"So Capns what wez gonna doz about this." Ank-hore points to the strangely dead body
Fixed; fixed yea says yea swabs, but I gots deez plans; ooh plans; <starts whipping or drawing and notes> wheeer iz our catapults; our spear chuckers or wenches an longtooth boats...our dragon belchers
whoosi's eyes alight with dreams of pointy chucky things all over the ship; Ank-hores message gets through....
well, we first kin check him fer loot
Whoosi starts checking the body over for loot, clues; maps tattoed on his head or bottom of his feet.
Ank-hore is thinking about the corpse in front of them. Then looks at the Capn searching the body knowing that he has the corpse's money in his pocket. "He had nuffin, Capn"
just the results of my checking over the body; cavity search and all; this gobby is not squeemish; look through his guts even in case he swallowed something interesting.
If Whosi is going to gut the Gob corpse Ank-hore will try to read the future in the dead gobs entrails.
:)
Ank-hore takes the end of his demon mace putting it in the pile of guts swirling them around trying to the find the pattern that best fits the tribes future. while he is doing this his stomach growls.
Whosi searches the dead sailor with, ahem, thoroughness, but does not find anything worthwhile. It would seem that the sailor had no eaten in some time and his stomach contents reflect that.
Meanwhile Ank-hore tries his hand at haruspicy, swirling the entrails about until they seem to tell a story.
Unfortunately that story is a rather sordid tale of entrails in love, entrails at war and entrails at dusk. Well, mostly just entrails. Still, he almost fancies he can see something else in there...
By the time night rolls around, the hurricane is behind you and the faint lights of Tashket are before you. Several large fires demarcate the line of the harbor and song can be heard on the wind, as well as the smell of roasting fish and other savory treats. You can easily see a dock that is less well lit than the others, perhaps owing to its being partially under construction, that might make a suitable place to set aground.
Or of course, you could run the ship aground if you choose right in the middle of town.
Or you could weigh anchor just outside the harbor and take the ship's boat to land.
What shall you do?
Splurg says "We Sneakzy let's set anchor and sneakz into town!"
Wisdom
Ank-hore peers deep into the entrails and sees...
The lights of Tashket draw nearer and the Captains can see that if they plan to drop anchor, they'll need to do it soon to avoid notice.
Crang waves his axe at the nearest member of the goblin crew:
You, drop ank-hore!
Upon Crang's order, the nearest goblin jumps to action: he immediate grabs the cleric and begins to drag him to the railing, clearly with the intent to toss him overboard.
Something doesn't seem quite right to Crang.
Scratching his head he turns to Splurg: Splurg?
acck, put mez down now capt'n tell um to putz me downs" Ank-hore flashes back to when the hummies tied him to the anchor and bites the gob holding him and yells "entrails say ship cursed by woman, youz needs me to stopz it."
Splurg points at the Anchor and shakes his head yes and then points at Ank-hore and shakes his head no...
The confused goblin puts Ank-hore down and makes his way over to the anchor. Seeing Splurg's affirmative, he shrugs, picks it up and walks it over to the edge of the ship. Holding it tight he lifts it up and promptly leaps over the edge, still holding onto the anchor. A few bubbles rise to the surface of the water, then cease.
Splurg seems satisfied with the Anchoring
looky hears slobs and gobs; wees in trouble soon; that Haiy Pain is a blowin our way; weez gotsta take all da sails down; batten da hatches; aint no wimpy Anger gonna hold us on place; can weez take da ship under again; be pleanty safe me thinks under da water da wind canna blow none too strong. Den we can creep ashor from under waters maybe like water snake out huntin fer a tidbit; what says yea? Shee's a good ship with a right beaut fer a lady on the mizzen; dont wann no hard to come ta her
The ship is secured, the anchor goblin seems to be holding steady. The hurricane is stationary; you've sailed through it with surprisingly little difficulty. The lights of Tashket are starting to diminish as people blow out lamps and head to bed. The sounds of carousing can still be heard from a few dockside pubs, but even these seem to be disappearing. A thin fog is starting to form over the water, which may help to mask your approach.
alright; which won oven youse magic wankers is funnin me? I aint drank enough ta be seein things....yet
---
so what kind of town is this apparently; what kind of peeps live here; all wood contruction?
Crangs pats Whosi on the shoulder: Sokay, we get some longshank booz. Then we help you see fings.
[b] I could go relieve them of a few bottles hehe; wonder what race they be anyway; shall we go see; a thought occurs to me Captain Crang; if they is out partying; who is watching their valuables at home heheheheheeee [b]
"Humanz meat is valuable...Ask GutBucket..."
"I thinks it is, Humie meat is also tasty." looking at Whosi No onez is watch'n valuables, we shouldz teach them lesson by takin it." thinking for a second and maybe burning all the buildin's to the grounds."
"Splurg likes the burning of the buildings, but maybe keep a few for Goblin castle?"
Splurg stealth
Spots stealth
Spot
Stealth
The ship's boat is launched and the goblin rowers begin to make their way toward the land.
With uncharacteristic silence that comes of knowing that mayhem is shortly to be unleashed, the goblin boat rows beneath the docks. A rope is quickly tied and as one you all swarm up the wet wood to the docks above. A small leaning hut sits at the dock's edge. A lit in on inside and a drunken man's singing can be heard over the sound of muffled carousing from the bars and the wet slap of waves on the dock.
"Ohhhh, a happy sailor's a miserable sot, his bunkmates all hate him, his capt'n's besot, his sea-wife's a terror, his ropes never knot, let's tip him o'er the side and draw up his lots! Ohhh, tie me down, lads, tie me down, boys! Me berries are itchin', me sausage's annoyed!"
Whispering to the goblin horde "Someonez is ties him down and taking his berries and sausages... dem's good eats Gutbucket... you guys takes em quick"
Stealth checks
Crang has even remembered to black up his axe blades today.
He is searching for sausages and other meats. Also shiny stuff. And fights! And fire!
perception
a pickled sot
Whosi slips into the Harbormaster's hut like a shadow, sliding along the wall and keeping low and out of sight. He spots a small lockbox, sitting next to the fat Harbormaster on a low table. The Harbormaster is clearly drunk, reclining on a wooden chair tilted back on two legs and holding an unlabelled bottle of something strong and pungent. He's older, fat and bald, his shirt untucked and stained and his boots wears in places. Whosi moves to the lockbox and manages to lift it off the table without a sound and is making his way back to the door when five goblins, led by Crang erupt into the room.
"And whass this? <HIC> Here's a bunch of little men with little knives bouncin' into me hut. Well now little men: I'm not nearly drunk enough to deal wit' the likes o' you right now. Go away and come back after I've finished me next bottle. Or pull ups a chair and drink a toast to me health and long life with me, eh?" The Harbormaster drunkenly grabs another unlabelled corked bottle from the table next to him and tosses it to Crang, who looks to be in charge. The other goblins all pause, their confused faces looking toward Crang for guidance.
Crang takes charge: Yous go outside wiv splurg. he tells the goblin sailors.
Then he pulls up a chair next to the harbourmaster, uncorks the bottle with his teeth, spits it across the room, takes a deep swig and declares: Yaar.
The liquor inside is at first sweet, then burns as it goes down your gullet. The Harbormaster smiles and raises his bottle. "Indeed, hallucination! I buy that from a man wit'out teeth. Best drunk you ever had, I tells ye. Burns in the belly, keeps a man warm through the night. Better'n women or wine, b'far. Got me through four wives, three ships sinkin' and nine ungrateful children. Here's ta a life well-lived! Cheers!" He takes a long pull from the bottle.
Splurg looks on in wonder at Crang and decides to move on and take the Goblin Castle(inn). Motioning to the rest of the Goblin crew they continue to move into town dispatching small groups as they pass buildings.
Splurg moves into town, noticing that while the bars are hopping, the rest of town seems to be asleep. You pass a few inns, but by far the largest building in town seems to be some sort of church or temple, but has no recognizable religious symbols on it; all it has is an outline of a man. Still it's two stories tall, made entirely of stone and features an impressive dome. Its doors are open and light spills out from it, though it is silent.
The gobs break into small groups, heading off to commit the usual atrocities. As Splurg approaches the large stone building, he can hear sudden shouts, screams and the jubilant songs of goblin rage, as well as see and smell burning as fires flare up through the town.
Splurg gazes in wonder on the giant stone building. "This be our castle lads, if be a true pirate you will go in first!" Splurg fakes like he is going in and waits for a few goblins to pass before following.
The last remaining goblins with Splurg all gulp and look at each other for a moment, before charging into the dome.
Inside, the dome is huge and two stories tall. In the center, movable chairs sit facing a massive stage that dominates one side of the dome. On the opposite side, doors lead to several smaller rooms, that look like meeting rooms or offices.
On stage, a fearsome sight looms! A knight clad in shining plate wields a burning sword in battle against a gigantic fire-breathing dragon! The two foes face each other silently, but pause as the goblins race into the dome. A voice issues from the dragon:
"Earl, did you order any kids to dress up as goblins for this show?"
Splurg exclaims over the crowd "Ack a dragon!!!! and it Talks...." Spots just looks at Splurg and shakes his head knowingly.
The knight shakes his head. "Not me, Stefan. But I got to say, it's very good make-up!"
As the dragon and knight peer at the gobs, a thin, foppish looking elf in a bright blue beret stomps onto the stage. "I TOLD YOU TO SHADOW BOX, NOT TO TALK ABOUT GOBLINS! THIS PLAY WILL BE A FIASCOOOOOO IF YOU DON'T AT LEAST GET THE METAPHORICAL DRAGON BATTLE DOWN. I mean, really, you two, how will the people understand the struggle of the common man versus the ruinations of religion and false idolatry if they don't a knight fighting the dragon? It's simple preeeeeeposterous the sort of trouble you so-called actors give me an artiste like myself... Simple PREPOSTEROUS!" The elf stops, his head in his hand dramatically and turns back toward the audience. He pauses, peering at the goblins. "And WHO IS THIS?!? I CANNOT WORK WITH ALL THESE INTERRUPTIONS. OUT! OUT I SAY!"
The liquor inside is at first sweet, then burns as it goes down your gullet. The Harbormaster smiles and raises his bottle. "Indeed, hallucination! I buy that from a man wit'out teeth. Best drunk you ever had, I tells ye. Burns in the belly, keeps a man warm through the night. Better'n women or wine, b'far. Got me through four wives, three ships sinkin' and nine ungrateful children. Here's ta a life well-lived! Cheers!" He takes a long pull from the bottle.
No teef, aye, I know no-teef.
Crang burps loudly: Good booze. No more sharin'
Crang pushes the man over, takes any bottles he can find, and goes outside: grinning from ear to ear.
Doing his bes pirate impression, he bellows
With a surprised "Whoaa!", the man goes over, falling hard against the hut's walls and letting out a huge belch as he does. Crang grabs the remaining two bottles of rotgut and heads outside. Once outside he can see the city is starting to erupt in chaos as goblins run to and fro, carrying burning torches and screaming lewd songs. In the distance, Splurg can be seen disappearing into a large domed stone building...
Crang follows Splurg, waving a bottle of booze.