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RE: (TFT) Talents
Talents are a studied or trained grouping of success checks.
An untrained individual must check success aganst several factors that the training covers via the concept of Talent.
Or something like that.
GMs don't like to run a clock.
That abstract, i.e. too hard.
Cry me a river.
also this crap today...
Two second turns "suck"?
REALLY?
The GM "spot" in the "interaction" is...?
Superior?
WTF Indeed....
How about, "screw your 'abstraction' I've got INFORMATION"?
Is this about how "smart" the GM is, or do the players actually make a difference?
Let's talk about dice.
Why do 6'ers still carry weight in Vegas?
Cause any "loony" worth their salt will "roll the dice", providing they know the odds.
I propose that what was already offered in the system has been ignored in favor of comfort.
A character who tries to do everything will not be very good at anything." ITL:9
But he won't be such a moron out of his element.
Plus he has a hell of a lot more fun along the way.
Specialists tend to think they're special.
OMG!
Cat Ballou was just on Turner Classic.
Kid Chealeane!
I always liked this one but with a little time behind me,...
What a scene when Jackson busts out the valise and gets him ready for battle.
And THEN...
< sings >
"Why are you weeping, sister?
Why are you now all alone?
I am old, and gray,
and I've lost my way.
All my tomorrows, were yesterday.
You bartered you braces,
for silks and for laces,
and you sold your soul,
for silver and gold,
and now
you
are old!"
So,
The Ludi (games) or Munera (offering (of entertainment, i.e. pacification))
A day at the arena opens with a succession of bloodless duels.
First you throw out the gimps and cripples.
Weapons are commonly things like big fish.
(That is what I like to see, little people, hitting each other. Napoleon in Time Bandits (I've got a hole in MY Universe too...))
Toddlers, women, loafs of stale bread, exotic animal dung, it's all fair game.
Over the course of the morning the crowds build.
When the arena master judges the crowd to be at its peak, or upon arrival of a dignitary, a sonorous blast was sounded upon the tuba (war trumpet) that signaled the entrance of the blood acts.
Each contestant would arrive in a chariot that would be formed into a parade around the arena.
They would then dismount, circle the arena, and form in front of the emperor's box.
Each man would then throw out their right arm and utter this salute.
Ave, imperator, morituri te salutant!
Hail, emperor, men soon to die salute thee!
(Claudius (himself a gladiator) once shouted back, "Or maybe, not!")
Behind the contestants marched slaves, bearing the gladiators equipment, especially featuring the helmet, which distinguished one man from another.
During the imperial age (common concept) there were four main classes of gladiator, one for each type of enemy early Rome faced.
An american version of this might be a Brit, Jap, Kraut, and Injun.
Samnite; Sword or Lance, Scutum (a large quadrangular shield), and armored right arm and left leg.
(I suppose this depends on handedness, but then again...)
Thracian; Sica (curved short sword), Parma (buckler)
Myrmillo (fisherman);
Retiarius; Net, Trident, Leather shoulder piece (left side) and Cummerbund (?).
Also included in the gladiator corps were boxers, archers, horsemen, charioteers, bestiarii or specialists in wild animals and comedians.
The gladiators were led into competition by managers, often loudly urging their fighters and even resorting to theatrics like whips.
Think Mid-South Wrestling managers like Jimmy Hart.
Gibbon here.
>From the crowd;
Habet!
That's done for him.
Hoc Habet!
Now he's had it.
Mitte!
Let him go free.
Iugula!
Pay the penalty.
From managers;
Verbera!
Strike.
Ure!
Burn the fellow up.
Ingula!
Kill.
The ceremonies attending defeat are somewhat poignant.
Quarter is asked by casting away ones shield and raising a finger of the left hand.
Lacking the presence of an emperor, the question fell to the victorious man.
Emperor Titus was famous for arguing with the crowd.
Vespasian, though no fan of the blood sports, would conduct business at the colosseum.
I have a very interesting epitaph from a gladiator who granted quarter to a man who later dispatched him.
"Take warning from my fate. Give no quarter, whoever the fallen may be!"
Saint Augustine reports that whenever a man dropped the whole mass gave utterance to a cry that resounded upon the hills for miles around.
pollice verso
down turned thumb.
A victor was crowned in laurels and a sliver plate was heaped with his prize moneys, after which the victor ran from the arena to the throngs loud cheers.
At the end of a contest a list of the results was prepared.
Each name was appended with a letter, V for Victor, P for perished, and M for missus, or sent off, indicating a living passage through the Porta Sanivivaria.
I have the Colosseum in Battle Maps, (you can ALMOST fit an old school baseball field into the actual arena area) and I'm screwing around with Game Box to see about presentation options.
Here's hoping that your next run of Melee has a touch of theatrics!
Vae, puto, deus fio!
Good Visuals!
Jay Carlisle decus puellarum, suspirium puellarum!
< strokes beard and cackles evilly >
I weird huh?
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