conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Unoriginal: Spoiler: OOC 
  IC thread for the fight between MaxWilson's Goblin Fighter/Wizard and my Tabaxi Barbarian
   
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: MaxWilson: Spoiler: OOC thread 
    https://forums.giantitp.com/showthre...ian&amp;p=24665895 
   
  
  
  Just as I had foreseen, the emperor was on the verge of striking the signal gong to start the match when suddenly he sneezed. His consort then whispered something to him and they were deep in conversation when the emperor suddenly remembered himself and, without pausing in his conversation, struck the gong.
  
  I of course was ready. My opponent, as I had foreseen, was not.
  
  Just as I had rehearsed when I planned the hit, my right hand gestured with a wand once, twice, and then smoothly flowed into a second sequence of gestures, while my lips babbled words that I've frankly never understood. A magical construct appeared on the sands of the arena next to my opponent, in the shape of an invisible hound that only I could see. An invisible sphere of indestructible force enclosed the man and the hound, trapping them within arms' length of each other.
  
  I cautiously backpedaled while watching my opponent's face. He had been a man and now he was a target--his job was to die. Nothing he could do or say mattered now.
  
  The hound growled and began to bark, phantom lips peeling back from phantom teeth.
  
  "So far so good," Jhereg's squeaky little voice said in my mind.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Unoriginal: Robert frowned slightly when he heard the gong. Too fast, it went. As did the little armored wizard when he cast his spells.
  
  But Robert knew those spells would only delay him, not beat him. And so he waited, arms crossed.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: MaxWilson: "Um, boss?"
  "I see."
  "It's not doing anything. It's just growling."
  "I said I see!"
  
  The stupid, defective hound wasn't attacking the target. The stupid, defective barbarian wasn't provoking the hound. The crowd couldn't see the force dome or the dog, and most of them probably didn't even realize the fight had started.
  
  I walked up to the dome, turned briefly to survey the crowd, and said in a loud voice, "You know what, chump? I'm gonna let you have the first blow. Go on, take your best shot at the weak little goblin. " I turned to give the target a perfect shot at my back and crossed my arms. He was several feet taller than me, even taller than most other Westereans, and from that angle he'd be able to practically cleave me in half vertically... if only he could. The crowd let out a collective gasp.
  
  "You're a terrible person, boss."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Unoriginal: The Genasi couldn't help but chuckle at the display. "You've missed your calling, wizard. But I'll move when I want to move. You can make a fool of yourself for all I care."
  
  Robert had spent more time at the bottom of the social ladder than the current emperor at the top. The crowd could get impotently angry all it wanted, it wasn't some boos and some thrown trash that'd make him act.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: MaxWilson: I spoke without looking at him. "It's your funeral."
  
  Then in a louder voice aimed at the crowd, "That's your best shot, huh? Now it's my turn." I raised my arms and circled the arena's perimeter a full 360 degrees and then another 180, facing the crowd and chanting loudly the whole time. It wasn't necessary of course--I'd cast the spell once I got to the southern tip. The chant was in fact a Fenarian recipe for paprika. I wondered if anyone in the crowd spoke Fenarian.
  
  "Hey boss, that guy looks so impressed I think he's going to fall over dead out of sheer admiration. I know I am."
  "Shut up, Jhereg."
  "Heh."
  "Seriously, Jhereg, what's he doing right now? Has he moved or done anything at all?"
  
  I continued to face the crowd but Jhereg showed me the target through his eyes...
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: MaxWilson: Apparently he was still just standing there impassively. Good enough for me.
  
  I kept walking until I reached my destination at the southern tip of the arena, still chanting and waving my arms, then turned to face the target. I pulled a handful of ruby dust out of my component pouch, swirled it around, and put it back in. A cube of force invisibly materialized around the target, point-down, interpenetrating the existing invisible dome and extending into the ground.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: MaxWilson: Then I filled the arena with sickly green light and fried him.
  
  There were some screams, and a few flung javelins and so on, but none of that really matters. He was the target and his job was to die. I kept up a suitable show for the crowd, creating force shields and firing off blasts of energy and so on, but I knew it was over and eventually so did he. We were just going through the motions so I could get paid, but as I shouted dramatic nonsense my mind was already elsewhere.
  
  It's the first time I ever assassinated a man in broad daylight and didn't have to take a vacation to Candletown afterwards to stay away from the feds. Not only was I getting paid for doing it, I was actually getting applauded. Westereans are a bunch of sickos.
  
  Maybe I should take Kireni to Venli's tonight. I was in the mood for something spicy, maybe pork rolls. Jhereg would like the blood sausage.