Merry Christmas! Ooblex the Gooblex orders a potato for everyone at the Tavern!

Three-headed Malicia stretches out her necks as tall as can be, so that her voices reach out across the fighting arena and the tavern below...

Malicia Head #1: "MERRY!"
Malicia Head #3: "CHRISTMAS!"
Malicia Middle Head: "EVERYONE!!!"

Free drinks for everyone! Happy holidays!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

*Hodd Toward walks into tavern* Merry Christmas everyone! Dont forget to buy my game!

preorder :P

First port of call, Merry Christmas to one and all.

Next up, my deputy shadowy figure, Punington, has sent in the two fights he was working on. Great job he has done as well.

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None could tell why the ringmaster's tribune was vacant once again. Certainly, those leaflets scattered around it which read "Only today: Death-dealing hamster amusement park" had nothing to do with that eventuality. Being as it may, and hoping that no one would mind rather than notice, the sneaky stranger approaches the overseer's position and makes himself at home just in time to witness the the opening of the next fight.

Fight 11

If there had ever been love between man and a piece of wood, none would have dared to say theirs was deeper than what (15) Belphegor felt for his drum sticks. The lover, the drummer, the next fighter, enters the arena followed by cheers from his devoted groupies.
His opponent, the name of eagerness, had been waiting for a chance to show the world how detrimental specialised roles are for society. (16) Lupos, the warrior-wizard with the skill to borrow powers and abilities from nearby animals; Lupos, the warrior-wizard against stereotypical builds, makes his appearance wearing a magician’s hat and a chainmail, fascinating everyone with his multifaceted disposition.

* DICE ROLL 1 *
Belphegor rolls 7
Lupos rolls 8

Wasting no time, Belphegor attempts to incapacitate his adversary by throwing drum sticks aimed at his eyes. As if they were shurikens, a bunch of wooden projectiles fly in a split second towards Lupos' face.
They connect! But wait a second, the sticks are stuck in a sticky surface! Impassive, Lupos the warrior-wizard reaches for one of his pockets revealing a hello-kitty tupperware with a snail inside it. Picking up the wooden weapons from his slimy face and unfolding his now gastropodic eyes, Lupos senses his opportunity and flings the drum sticks towards Belphegor's crotch making him kneel down in pain.
The crowd can't believe what's going on, an adept warrior with a love for hello-kitty paraphernalia, how's that for an eye opener? Lupos smiles, happy to have broken another stereotype.

* DICE ROLL 2 *
Belphegor rolls 8
Lupos rolls 9

Belphegor is still recuperating from his injuries when his adversary takes the initiative, well, sort of... Wanting to finish the fight quickly but forgetting he's borrowing the abilities of a snail, it takes Lupos around an eternity to make it halfway to the drummer. By that time, Belphegor, fine and dandy and knowing his advantage in speed, circles around the warrior-wizard rushing towards his back so quickly, so swiftly, and so unable to notice the trail of slime, that he ends up loosing his balance falling to the floor and breaking a drum stick. Ouch!
Lupos is not happy about this stereotypical development and reverts back to his usual self, this time adopting a smug wizardry stance.

* DICE ROLL 3 *
Belphegor rolls 6
Lupos rolls 9

In tatters, Belphegor stands up once again. His stoicism and determination resonate around the arena gathering a loud response from a bunch of onlookers wearing the drummer's merch. "Bel-phe-gor! Bel-phe-gor!" they cheer, and Belphegor's heart begins to beat at that same cadence. "Bel-phe-gor! Bel-phe-gor!” a second wind overtaking him, resolution and energy oozing from his whole being. This time the drummer dashes directly towards his opponent, gripping a new pair of drum sticks precisely at the fulcrum point, and castigating the warrior-wizard's body with rhythmical beats.
"Not, not quite my tempo" interrupts Lupos apparently immune to the damage dealt.
Belphegor's concentration breaks in an instant. "Wait, what?" he answers.
Lupos reaches under his magician’s hat and under his chainmail unveiling both an Owl and an Armadillo.
"Yep, not quite my tempo. Believe me, I know, now I’ve got a very good sense of hearing mate" says the smug wizard (and also a warrior), and leaving both animals at a safe distance, begins clapping his hands together whilst saying: “Here we go: five, six, seven..."
Belphegor suddenly feels compelled to try again under Lupos' patronising look and set pace, but he hasn’t even begun to lash out the beating when he is interrupted once more.
"Not... Not quite my tempo. It's all good, it's all goooood... No worries. Here we go: five, six, seven…”
Belphegor tries again and again to no avail, sometimes rushing, sometimes dragging, there’s no way of pleasing Lupos’ acute hearing. The crowd averts their eyes ashamed of such horrific display of torture.
“Ok, once again, let’s g…"
No, there isn’t once again anymore. Exhausted and out of resources, having dedicated his whole characterisation to being a drummer and not being able to deliver as expected, Belphegor's heart breaks in sorrowful silence after having withstood so much damage. The drummer falls, his last beat that of his body collapsing onto the arena’s floor.
“Shame, he almost had it.” says Lupos as he picks his animals and his hello-kitty tupperware back up and walks away.

After the whiplash Belphegor wakes up in the tavern feeling a bit down. Wanting to warm up his soul, he orders a spicy noodle soup which he carefully sets aside once served. He isn’t hungry. Instinctively, he reaches for the chopsticks instead and begins fidgeting with them, a few beats here and a few double strokes there, everything comes with ease. In no time, Belphegor is back at it, smiling, realising the beat will always be there for him, no matter what.

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Fight 12

The doors of the arena open once again. (105) Metälingus, the master of brütality, steps in after the ear-piercing cheers and tribal screams exploding from the horde of metal.
"That must be my cue" says (22) Slick Cat, coming right after the commotion and blowing kisses to the onlookers from his conspicuous fancy convertible super-car.

* DICE ROLL 1 *
Metälingus rolls 7
Slick Cat rolls 8

Engrossed in charming the audience with his swagger, Slick Cat swerves his car around the arena on a dazzling display of drunk driving. The crowd is loving the unusual savoir fare of course, some throw flowers on his way, others fly napkins with their phone numbers written on them. There's so much charm in the air that from the masses a brave soul emerges and hurls his undergarments directly into Slick Cat's face.
It's an audience hit!
The gentleman cat-assassin's car crashes uncontrolled into one of the pillars supporting the arena. A sudden explosion erupts from the machine, bathing the whole place under a thick stench of petrol, a dark trail of smoke rising to the skies on the wake of its destruction.
Awed by such display of brütality Metälingus begins to run towards the wreckage when a feline figure clawed to a burning ball of fire drops from the heavens directly on top of his head, knocking him down.


* DICE ROLL 2 *
Metälingus rolls 3
Slick Cat rolls 6

"You ok there kid?" says Slick Cat dusting off his checkered suit.
Metälingus who isn't neither ok nor a kid, stands up and hurls the car's ejected burning seat out of his damn way. The angry-looking long-haired metalhead can't call himself long-haired anymore.
"Lemme tell ya, that's such a shame friend... It was a fine car you know?" the cat-assassin says shrugging.
Having lost the only half that of himself which prevented him from being exclusively angry-looking, Metälingus bursts with rage, unstraps a steel electric guitar from his back and lifting it with both hands, sets himself to deliver an 8.5 Richter-magnitude killing blow.
Distracted by a hay ball, Slick Cat notices Metälingus' rage with enough time to begin turning slowly in his direction, and stopping him on his tracks with a charming cute little kitty look.
The metalhead lowers his arms ashamed of what he was about to do. Seeking forgiveness he reaches out towards the cute cat who, in a flash, swirls upwards Metälingus' arm, unfolds his claws in front of his face and gouges the metalhead's eyes out. Metälingus cries of pain almost manage to stop time but Slick Cat isn't finished yet. Reaching out with both arms inside the bloodied cavities of his opponent skull, the cat-assassin seals his victory by clawing at Metälingus’ brain and grating it finely as if it was parmesan cheese.
“Such a charmin’ littl' fella” a voice from the audience raises above turmoil followed by many “hear, hear”, a few “Take me!”, and some “Make me yours!”.
Covered in gore, Slick cat leaves the arena muttering to himself “Now you’re gonna need a new suit, you silly.”

Back at the tavern, Metälingus opens his new set of eyes under a curtain of thick hair. A lingering aura of absolute brütality envelops him, enticing all the fivers of his being to unleash the ultimate apocalypse. Gazing upon the world surrounding him one last time, the arc drawn by his eyes suddenly stops before the view of a lonely amp. “F****** finally!” Metälingus yells, and dashing to his lifeline now and connecting his electrical guitar after, he proceeds to shred a devastating riff, shocking everyone in the tavern with the overwhelming power of METAL.

oh how many cats are there

Metalheads in the tavern... This sounds cool.
Anyway, Merry Christmas everyone!

Merry Christmas to all of you... except Elexis ! I will gift you a special treatment very soon.

Merry Christmas. May the next year bring better than the last.

epic.
also, Merry Christmas, fellow goglodytes!

Merry Christmas and best wishes from me and your friendly neighborhood Generic Superhero™!

Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone

Now I want a hello-kitty tupperware with a snail inside it for Christmas.Pucca will do. Happy holidays, people!