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NO MORE PORTING! [P, Snell/agee]
Topic Started: Sun Jul 10, 2016 4:58 am (1,523 Views)
Lesk
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That was it. They were going to do no more teleportations of the mighty flesh golem known as Effagee. The Tarasian monster of the arena, the Colossus of Flesh, the gladiatorial beast at the end of the Taras Arena Gauntlet, would have to find alternative means to teleportation if it wished to return to the city that it may as well have called home. The teleportations that the wizards had done for the tournament were mostly easy, but when it came to the special necrotic form of the cognizant flesh golem it proved to be more of a burden than they were getting paid for. Having to not only move every bit of melded-together flesh and magically reassemble it in the arenas, to keep any parts of him from fusing into the surrounding area where he was being dropped off at, and to make sure that the unholy magic which kept him animated remained intact so that there was no claim of international incident with Taras added to their list of troubles, was just too much to wwant to dare do ever again outside of the arena duties.

Of course Effagee, being the big lovable oaf that he was, did not take this as an insult or anything negative, but simply shrugged off all of the shouting and complaining that the wizards did and headed for the Stribergian docks.

Whine, whine, whine. The first voice in Effagee's head mocked the wizards.

Bitch, bitch, bitch. The second voice in the golem's head added.

The sword returned to its normal habit of saying just about nothing so long as combat was absent from its life.

The voices in Effagee's mind were much more annoyed by the wizards' words than the flesh golem might ever be, but he simply ignored their own words of protest to such treatment and made his way through streets of onlookers, some of whom cheered the mighty meaty amalgamation's performance in combat, particularly the Rejevi who apparently had an appreciation for brawn over brains when it came to battle. Simple, skilled, and deadly, Effagee was effectively a superzerker who laughed more than he raged, who took battle head-on and would crush friend and foe alike if it meant victory.

In hindsight, perhaps not the best strategy, but holy magic had a way of scrambling what little thinking power he had and sending him into nigh-uncontrollable rages. Fortunately there was no holy magic currently trying to rip his undead form apart as he walked through the streets of Striberg, so there would be nothing for anybody to worry about.

Effagee, being a fan of his fans, stopped whenever one came up to talk to him about the battle, or recite how awesome it was. The flesh golem loved reliving the moments through the eyes of each of his supporters, to share in their excitement at seeing a necrotic war golem going headfirst into conflict with a big toothy grin, to throw aside and seemingly forget his own undead nature for the sake of glorious battle.

Of course, fans or not, the Colossus of Flesh did not really know any of these glorious strangers, and they broke off when they were done meeting with him to return to whatever it was they had been doing prior. That was fine with the golem, but having actual friends was something he considered better.
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Snellopy[Adm]
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Snellopy ambled down the street, seeking inspiration for what to do next. As an itinerant priest, he had no real plans, and was happy enough staying in the north after the tournament had ended.

The last round had concluded yesterday, but somehow it felt like months had passed. The dwarf put it down to the massive amounts of damage he'd taken. He was surprised that his soul hadn't needed to be recalled from Kern's Forge. That didn't lessen his enjoyment though, far from it. Combat to amuse and entertain with no serious repercussions was a wonderful thing. Snellopy hadn't managed to get many hits in--his role had been more of the target, unfortunately--but his repertoire of drinking tales had expanded greatly.

He saw a crowd gathered around a monstrous form down the road, and smiled in delight.

"Well, I'll be! It's that big bugger again!"

Picking up his pace, Snellopy was soon at the edge of the throng. He jumped about, waving his arms wildly to attract the behemoth's attention.

"Hoy mate! Over here!"

Even though Effagee had nearly killed him, Snellopy bore the massive flesh golem no ill will, and was actually hoping to have a drink with him and yarn about the contest.
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Lesk
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There were a lot of people of many different species, some naturally strong, others weak, all interested in getting a nice up-close look at the simple creature that seemed to ignore the rule that undead abominations were supposed to be horrifying creatures of only death and destruction, yet for him to have a parallel nature of fighting and glory seemed to make him approachable.

Out of the corner of an eye, Effagee saw what looked to be a dwarf, short and stocky with a pretty nice beard-- no, not just any dwarf! That was the dwarf that was at first Effagee's ally, and then his opponent! Trying to gget his attention, no less! Wanting to speak with Effagee, probably about fighting! Oh, the holy energy had burned and sent Effagee into a berserk rage, but there had been no ill intent behind it like some undead hunters from Istan, but just a want to do something to hurt the enemy! Effagee could respect that desire.

"Little holy man!" Effagee laughed towards the fellow combatant as he began to approach.

Effagee kind of just walked through the crowd towards the little man with big, thunderous footsteps. The crowd was smart enough to part, recognizing that the flesh golem had just completely shut out their existence for that of a fellow fighter. It was simply in the gladiatorial monster's nature to favor fighters,

"Good fight! Hurt Effagee!" The Colossus of Flesh laughed, reaching down to pick up the dwarf for a big hug.
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"Glad you saw me mate, you had a much better chance of wading through the throng." the dwarf said.

"I don't blame them mobbing you mate," Snellopy said, pointing at all the fans, "You're a hell of a fighter. I thought I was a gonner after you whomped me. You certainly eat your vegetables."

Even though his involvement in the battle in the Ice Palace had been cut short, Snellopy had enjoyed that battle the most out of the three. At least he'd managed to get a couple of hits in.

"I'm glad I ran into you on both sides of the shield," he continued. "In my line of work, you're the first undead I've come across that ain't all shambly or evil. I must say, I do like this change, even if down the road it means less call for my kind."

Snellopy took a drink from his flask. "Say, what are you up to now mate? I've got nothing much planned, mind if I tag along with you for a while?"
Edited by Snellopy, Wed May 10, 2017 8:06 am.
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Lesk
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Effagee is pretty special. Said the first voice in Effagee's head proudly.

And we're the best coaches-- oh, right, the dwarf can't hear us. Realized the second voice, a bit annoyed about a lack of communicating outside of the flesh golem's mind.

"Effagee eat lots of pie!" The flesh golem chuckled proudly with the dumb grin on his face growing just slightly bigger. The mentioning of vegetables really did just go over his head, being something he rarely if ever ate, and probably would have trouble identifying if he ever saw, "Holy hurt Effagee, and Effagee not get hurt much, so it make Effagee angry and happy! Effagee happy to fight little holy man again! But guess Effagee not good fighting with people, just good fighting at them."

It had been counted as a loss for Effagee, even though he had emerged victorious. Apparently teamwork, being something he never used, was not his strong suit. Attacking an ally was frowned upon, but everybody seemed to agree that he made things entertaining. Oh well, he may have lost, but as long as the crowd left that fight happy, then ultimately Effagee was happy. He was a people corpse.

"Little finger-wagglers say they not port Effagee any more, so Effagee taking boat back to Taras!" Effagee said without a shred of guilt in his voice, quite liking boats. After countless time spent at the nearly completely dark depths of the ocean, taking a boat over the surface was a much-appreciated change in pace for all consciousnesses present, "Effagee go back to Taras Arena. Fight here sure to make more people show up to watch Effagee fight! Maybe get strong people who want fight to fight Effagee! Effagee have money to bring Little Holy Man with Effagee! Come! Trips with friends better than making new friends on trips!"

Effagee said and would hoist the dwarf on top of his shoulder with the greatest of ease, the relatively small weight being nothing before the might of the Colossus of Flesh.

Oh yeah! Effagee taxi service! Laughed the second voice in his head.

We should start charging. . .but we can leave a discount for friends. Said the first voice in his head.

"Little holy man can tell Effagee about little holy man!" Effagee said happily, some laughs and cheers ringing out from the crowd at the sight of the flesh golem just hoisting up the dwarf in such a friendly manner.
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"A boat ride, hey? Not a bad idea mate. I am sure it'll be plenty relaxing."

The dwarf smiled happily as he was hoisted into the air and onto Effagee's shoulders.

"Woah, the view from up here is great!" The dwarf craned his head around while idly drumming his heels on the chest of the colossus of flesh. "I think I might even be able to see the arena from up here, mate." Snellopy grasped Effagee's hair with one hand, and took a few reflective sips.

"I have all me gear with me, so if you're good to go, mate, the docks are over yonder," he said, leaning down and pointing so his flask was visible.

"Gee-up!"
he said, tapping gently with his feet again, and waving (regally, he thought) to the watching crowd.

"So why do you like Taras so much mate? I've not been there meself, but surely a city that big'd be a bit sameish?"

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Lesk
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Yes! The first voice in Effagee's head cried out as the dwarf seemed to take well to being picked up and placed upon his shoulder. It was almost like hanging out with a bearded, possibly drunken child, but one who knew magic which could hurt the Colossus of Flesh. Unlike those camel-riders from the desert so long ago, there was no ill intention towards the flesh golem behind those spells, just a desire to eke out any sort of victory that could be achieved, and Effagee could respect that.

Always wanted to give a shoulder ride to a dwarf! The second voice added gleefully, perhaps speaking to some fantasy lost to the identity behind it. Maybe it was nothing more than an echo, but all the same the sentiment seemed to carry, much like the massive gladiator did carry the dwarf. It was light to such strength, practically equivalent to a feather for anybody else.

With a laugh, Effagee proceeded forward at the dwarf's prodding. The crowd surrounding them laughed, cheered, applauded, and made sure to clear a path for the duo. To see such a crazy fight followed by such a show of camaraderie to one's enemy, especially from something so monstrous and someone so holy, it was almost too weird to be believed, but here it was not caring for other peoples' expectations of the world. Madness incarnate in glorious fashion that could only exist within Imythess.

"Arena!" Effagee admitted to the dwarf without worry, "Taras arena big, lots of fights! Big fights, too! Lots of people come see Effagee fight lots of things! Effagee fights, make people happy, Effagee and people all happy! Little holy man should come watch Effagee fight! Effagee make show good!"

Each thundering step brought Effagee and Snellopy further down the path towards the docks. The calls and laughter of people warned others to watch out, but even those who did not move, the Colossus of Flesh merely avoided with easy. He was a bipedal creature after all, not some runaway cart or barrel.
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"I'm surprised that they haven't tried conscripting you, mate. A shield-wall would fair wet themselves with you running towards them."

Snellopy looked around the street Effagee was carrying him. He shook his head. A bigger version of this place wouldn't appeal. The arena sounded alright, for a time, but a rambler's life suited him best.

"Do yah have any mates that are prissy, stuck up-elves? We should get one such to sit on yer other shoulder to be the hoity toity voice you can ignore, like in them woodcuts o' your conscience duking it out."

The dwarf took a drink, then passed his flagon down. "Speaking of advice, mate, hook in. It's bottomless, so's it's fine to have at it."
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"Effagee want lots of good fights. Army not fight enough. Maybe if army fight, then Effagee fight with army, but Effagee get lots of good fights at arena." Effagee said, not having a clue what conscription even was. It was a long word with a lot of parts to it, but he got this idea that it had something to do with joining the army.

Like even Taras could make Effagee fight for them. The first voice in his head scoffed, amused at the prospect.

Though the dwarf's right, Effagee would just walk through actual soldiers! The second voice laughed at the notion, picturing heavily armored knights getting swatted aside like rag dolls.

"Effagee only elf friends fighters like Effagee. Effagee elf friends not act like other elves." Effagee shrugged his free soldier, being careful not to move the one currently being used as a dwarf's seat for worry that it might send his new friend flying through the air, "Little holy man have elf friends like that?"

Effagee carefully took the cup and looked it over for a moment. He had no idea what the dwarf meant by "hook up", but figured treating it like a normal cup would not be a bad idea if it was being offered to him. He tilted it over to pour the contents past his mouth and drank up, a lot of the alcohol going down his massive throat before he just stopped and handed it back to the dwarf, unaffected and clearly unimpressed.

"Not as good as food. Effagee like meat and pie." Effagee said, finding no satisfaction in either the taste nor the added liquid weight to his body. His rotten body tended to be fine with fluids from fresh foods, staying nice and hydrated, though mummification was hardly an inhibiting factor to the flesh golem.
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"Ah, that's sensible, that is mate. All my Elven friends ain't like the normal sort, either.I don't blame 'em, to be honest, as there's no fun in being like that."

The dwarf took the flagon back and returned to absentmindedly imbibing. "Fair enough, Effagee. Food does have its fine points, I'll give you that."

Snellopy looked at the pier they were heading down, watching smaller piles of barrels jounce around in time with the flesh golem's steps. At this rate, his big friend was likely to put a foot through a board with the force of their passage. Conveniently though, they were now past the fishing smacks and smaller boats owned by locals and were now passing merchant vessels, some of which looked suitable for the mismatched pair.

"Hey, mate, what do you think of that boat there? It looks all... floaty... and such. How's about we get on it? Even if it ain't going to to Taras, it's gotta beat this joint, surely." The dwarf paused. "Say, do you get seasick? If you do, I'm more than happy to help swap out buckets for yah. It's just like chundering when you've had too much."

He cupped his hands round his mouth and shouted. "Hoy, the boat! Two of your best cabins, for me and me steed, if yer taking passengers! And if you ain't, I'm thinking you'll be wanting to change yer mind", right fast.
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As usual, the Colossus of Flesh did not even take note of the quaking effects that his heavy footfalls had on the world around him. To take note of such a thing would only make him paranoid and lead to even worse clumsiness than him inside a normal-sized building as he tried to avoid breaking things, but he was thankfully distracted by the companion resting on his shoulder rather than in is mind.

"Effagee spend lots of time on boats good!" The gladiator responded to his new friend about handling the motion of the ocean.

"Holy trout that's the flesh golem." Said an elder human sailor at the boat that the dwarf had called out, his clothes thick for warmth and his beard scruffy and mid-length. He had stopped mid-conversation at the rumbling of the deck beneath his boots, and only turned his old brown eyes to take in the hard-to-miss sight of the recent arena monster rumbling words like thunder.

"And that poor dwarf he bugged." Said a younger-looking orc, his clothes about as thick and his hair in a short dread behind him, but his face clear of hair and scars.

"Cabins? I don't. . ." The old sailor was trying to get through his mind fitting something larger than his loaded crates and twice as dangerous onto the vessel. It could be perfectly safe, but after watching the undead's fights, it seemed riskier than most things, "I'm not sure our hold's even got enough room for that!"

"Effagee can sit on deck and not move for long time!" Effagee said with a big dopey grin, understanding an age-old concern with his massive size, "That what Effagee do when Effagee pirate!"

"Pirate?" The orc parroted with confusion, fairly certain that he had never seen, nor heard, such a large thing actually being a sailor even for pirates on iron galleys.

Oh, those good old days. Reminisced the first voice within the golem's mind.

Less swashbuckling and more boat-buckling. Recounted the second voice of Effagee's blunt force tactics.

"I guess if you've got the coin we can ship ya." The old man said, still unsure but not about to turn away the golem outright, lest he find himself testing the limits of a berserker's patience. It seemed not the sort of creature to hold grudges given the dwarf on its shoulders, but the way it snapped in that last fight was cause for concern.

"Effagee have coin!" The golem cheerily boasted, reaching for a small bag at his side and clumsily ripping it from its cord to shove towards the old man who set the requirement for travel.

The old man flinched at the sudden movement of such a large thing, such a thing was only sane, but after realizing that the Colossus of Flesh had stopped, he gingerly took the bag being offered and took a look inside before barking with a change of tone, "We're takin' 'em!"

"Captain, are you sure--" The orc tried to question, a cautious glance to the duo before being cut short by the open bag being shoved towards his face. Filled with gold. Not silver, not copper, just pure gold.

"We're takin' 'em!" The captain stated once again before looking back to the massive monster like he had just opened a Midwinter gift, "Welcome aboard the Fesity Manta! We'll be leaving in an hour or two, so get yourselves comfy! Golem, you can sit by the central mast, and Nerod, here, can show the dwarf to the quarters. It ain't much, you'll be bunkin' with most of the crew, but it's what we got!"
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The dwarf laughed along at his friend's explanation of how well he could sit still. "In a pinch, I'm thinking you could also use him as an emergency anchor, as well!"

As the Colossus of flesh walked under some rigging to the mast, Snellopy held onto the ropes until he was lifted free of his friend's shoulders, then clumsily climbed down.

"I'm more than happy to help out, too," he said, "I can heal just about any hurts yer crew have, and I promise not to sermonise too much while doing so," he said, taking a drink.

"Righto, lead on, Nerod, mate." He waved to Effagee as he headed below decks. "I'll be back in a bit, mate."

After dumping his pack at the foot of an unclaimed hammock, the dwarf made a quick tour of the boat, focused mainly on areas relating to the victuals.

The whole crew seemed happy enough to talk to him. Whether that was because they were a friendly lot, or they just didn't want to draw the ire of the undead gladiator, he didn't seem to care. After swapping a few jests with the cook, he headed back up on deck with a whole chicken in each hand.

"There weren't any pies on the go, but here's some meat, with a side order of meat, mate," he said, holding them out towards Effagee.
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The boat may not have rocked when the Colossus of Flesh boarded the Feisty Manta, but the boards of the deck creaked out their complaints with each of his mighty steps, for as gingerly as he may have walked to avoid a cacophonous drum-like beat for the decks below, it did little to alleviate his weight from the floor. Some of the crew felt like they had to come aboard deck just to see what was making the ship whine so, never having expected to find the monstrous undead to be sitting down on their ship, nor a dwarf to be descending from their rigging when their ship had none when they went below deck.

"Effagee can stop boats!" The flesh golem proudly admitted to his friend's commentary as he got settled down on the deck. From that point on, only the ship completely capsizing would be able to move him against his will. That was where he chose to sit, and that was where he would stay.

While Snellopy went below deck to do far more normal things regarding ship travel, the crew of the Manta were spreading word across the ship fast about their unusual guests and coming to get a look at the undead. He hardly smelled pleasant, but enough years spent at docks with all manner of things coming and going at all times of day meant that they could at least handle the odor a little better as he lingered in one spot with the sea's breeze carrying the worst of it away in an instant. As always, the golem was more than happy to meet with more people.

Before long the dwarf was back with a great meal for the mighty rotten gladiator. Well, great in what it was, but Effagee would not even entertain the idea of complaining about food, taking the chickens and eating them both whole, bones and all. He chewed through them like a machine grinding them down, not losing even a piece of food, but hardly proving to be a pretty sight, and his choice to talk while eating just added to the spectacle, "Thank little holy man! Tasty birds!"

Once Effagee finished his display of consumption, he turned his attention to Snellopy, considering him for a moment. There really was little that the berserker could consider of his new friend, not in stature but rather in skill, "Little Holy Man need learn not get hit! Need move for fighting, or else be easy to hit. Holy stuff good, but not good if you done fast in fight."
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Snellopy took a reflexive, reflective sip. "You're probably right there, mate, especially when dealing with a great big lovable lummox like yerself," Even when the colossus of flesh was sitting, the dwarf still had to reach up to pat him on the shoulder.

"I'm not adverse to mixing it up, mate, but I am generally more of moral-support on the front line, as 'let's rush em with axes out' isn't that popular a strategy when they're all flinging spells and arrows at us but I try." Snellopy paused to laugh at himself. "Say! There is a damn fine time for sitting still, that works doubly well on a boat, mate. Have you ever wet a line before? With the poundage you'd be able to reel in, you could maybe get something that'd take even you a day or two to eat through... assuming we can scrounge up suitable bait and tackle for you. Are you interested, mate?"
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"Effage. Spit on line? Bait and tackle? Is fighting? What?" Effagee's mind tried working through the confusing string of dialogue that the dwarf had just spat out. Whatever it was, it seemed that he felt rather confident that it might be able to keep the flesh golem fed so that he would not have to strain the ship's reserves for the trip, but beyond that the big amalgamation of undead flesh was at a complete loss for what was going on, and how any of the words used could contribute to his stomach.

Fishing. The two voices in the golem's mind said in unison, wanting to get past this confusion as quickly as possible.

"Fish!" The golem said as the smile returned to his face with a big toothy grin, though now instead of a look of confusion, it turned into one of intrigue as he learned a little closer to his short friend, "Effagee not fish. People say Effagee scare fish. How Effagee fish food fish if scare fish?"

Actually, it's not a bad idea. Noted the first voice in the gladiator's mind, mulling it over.

That is, if the dwarf can handle teaching Effagee something that's not fighting. The second voice said with exasperation and low expectations.
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