Sticky's bag hits the ground with a muffled thump and clatter of metal. It's stuffed with everything he might need like rope, a grappling hook, his lucky saw, and a bear trap, just in case.
Sticky himself is an average sized goblin with no special features save for a slight blue tinge to his skin. All the better for sneaking and blending with shadows. He is dressed in studded leather and sports a dog slicer at his hip. His head is larger than normal with vicious, pointed teeth.
While he listens to the chief, his eyes sneakily scan the gathered troop for things that aren't safely secured to their owners. With chain.
He was a strange goblin that was for sure. He half listened to the cheif instead he steepled his fingers together evilly and brooded glaring at the other goblins. One thing he regretted from his saking of his former masters tower was he didnt have the foresight to get a proper wezard hat. He needed a big pointy wezard hat. He patted the dogslicer trying to look feirce and like he was paying attention...
A small, thin goblin will perk up on his feet to better see the chief.
Me be back here to show path of the Dawnflower to tribe. Chief's speech looks like good occasion to talk to lots of people. Me wonders what chief wants to say, first...
While pondering on what the speech would be about, he will continue to try to stay on the tip of his toes to hear the speech better. A few seconds after, tough, he will find himself staring at the sky.
Uuuuhm, Tochack tripped again. Not good. Also landing on backpack with 'Scimitar'. Worse.
Hoping that the 'Scimitar' was still intact, he will pull it out of his tiny backpack. Well, calling it 'Scimitar' was not really correct: it was a Dogslicer so badly built that it resembled the weapon he trained so much with.
Tochack will look at it with satisfaction.
All good. Not as pretty as Amid's Scimitar, but good.
A somewhat corpulent, blueish, female goblin comes into the room dragging a metal cauldron behind her. On the side of the cauldron there was a drawing of a hungry maw and two fierce looking eyes, though they looked rather silly right now, upside down as they were as the goblin lady sat on top of it.
She herself was a little odd. She was more than chubby, a goblin mark of beauty, but her ears were so big and bat-like that it offset her other features. Perched between those giant ears was a mass of blonde hairs, a wig made from horse hair she claimed to have harvested herself. What probably drew the attention of the others though was the fact that while listening to the chief she was nibbling on a honeycomb dripping with raw honey and filled with now dead bee larvae.
Squatting unobtrusively in a corner is a short and thin goblin of a mottled greyish-greenish color. He is all lean, ropey muscles and watching eyes topped by a threadbare and pointy burlap cap. His necklace of finger-bones clacks lightly, unheard beneath the general clamor of the goblin meet. Slung across his back is a bow of Elf femurs and scapulae bound by tendons. Laszlo pulls a broken arrow from his belt and uses the rusty iron head to dig at the wax in one of his large ears.
Barely unnoticed, a lean and short goblin lurks into a corner his skin, somehow, changes tones, from dark green to pale blue, on a undetermined whirling pattern, wearing dirty robe with a cap and a leather apron for carryng tools, and a leather armor with little bones attached. He looks unconfortable, looking for a spot with as few people possible, playing nervous with a couple dogslicers.
Makena sticks out perhaps the most in the crowd of goblins, though there is certainly some stiff competition for the honor; of course she does have the advantage of being the only non-goblin gathered to hear the chief. As he finally arrives and calls for attention she jumps in surprise, lowering the small bamboo flute she'd been playing with, and scrambling to her feet from her kneeling position. Even after she stands one could be forgiven for thinking she was not, being one of--if not the--shortest person in the room at a little over two and a half feet.
She brushes absently at her kimono, a bright red color with a white flower pattern and immaculately clean, which is explained a moment later as she whistles a small tune and the dirt crumbles away from the front, falling to the floor. The bright color does clash somewhat with her dark green scales, but the elaborate black haired wig she is wearing and thick wooden sandals complement the tied kimono, so it... kind of works. Further throwing the whole thing into a giant mess of influences is the crossbow and quiver across her back, and a small backpack that clinks gently when carried, though it currently rests besides the kobold girl.
Stickymitts has been around long enough that the rest of the tribe tends to give him a wide berth and keep any objects of value well hidden.
Chief Rendwattle's voice lowers conspiratorially. "Longshanks be have bigbig party name 'Swallow Tails Festival'. They not be looking for Gobs. Licktoads make four groups, sneak into town. One group attack thissa way through big gate. One group attack thatta way over little bridge. Them two be MAKE LONGSHANKS CHOKE ON TAILS!!! Other groups job different but still important. One group sneakasneak thissa way . Find filthy evil books, writing and burn. Make bigbig fire. Last group have hard dan-ger-us job - but most important. You attack from top like Tail Kill group . No fight longshanks. Find dogs and horses. KILL THEM DEMONS!!!"
Chief Gutwad pauses to make sure everyone understands, then assigns the entire tribe to random groups. By sheer luck, it's a relatively even split - approximately 50 Goblins apiece.
Sticky conciders. Fighting was sucky. And yuck. Killing doggies is good, but might get bit. He signs up for the book burning crew in hopes that he would come away with more than sweet book ash.
In spite of his best efforts, he still hasn't been able to lift anything off the wary goblins of his tribe. Not even the loud, distracting entrance of that Auntie lady gave him success. Still, he is undeterred and continues searching for a mark.
Laszlo inspects his cap, poking at a loose thread, while he mulls over which group he'd like best... though he has no say in the matter. He's just glad the Chief finally let him go on a raid. As luck would have it, the chieftain's finger jabs at Laz and tasks him with attacking from the bridge.
"Eeeep..." Tochack will manage a chocked scream.
Maaaaybee not good time to sermon. But this plan bad! People be hurted like this! Tochack have to find a solution.
He will consider the different groups, and then pull out his copy of The Birth of Life and Truth.
Killing is bad, but maybe book burning is not? Books evil...
Flipping trough the pages, he will finally find the passage he was searching for. His reaction will be of utmost terror, as he watch the drawn scene.
A stick figure that, judging by the flames on her head, was supposed to be Sarenrae was frowning at a group of stick-people. With wicked grins on their faces, they were setting fire to a building, in which a terrified stick-person was flailing his arms in terror from the window.
No no no, burning buildings with people is bad, too! What should Tochack do...
The stressed goblin will clutch his ears, trying to concentrate, not even noticing that he was assigned to the .
If only me was in bookfiring squad...Could scout ahead and warn people in building before other gobbos set fire to them!
Only then he will notice that, indeed, he was assigned to the Book-burning squad. "Woohoo!"
assigned main gate attack force, sneaks away until the group being assigned to the book torch is formed, mending with it. "there must be the less guarded path, and the longshanks must pay well for those booky-things, after all, they fill buildings with them!"
-Me assigned here!
Shouts after a while without being noticed by anyone.
Oh he was certainly going with the book burning squad... mostly to save any possible spell books the long shanks had in the town. He could find someway to intimidate or convince those to be spared... maybe.
He had to remember to work on his goblin sounding.
"You uh... youz want me to go with ...er wif da book burners to uh... make sure the really bads thought stealing wordy books is burned the first?" He called out to the chief hoping that perhaps with a little ...orders from on high it would make it easier.
Auntie grinned as she was placed with the dog killers and horse slayers. She didn't care about the dogs but the horses were a thing of interest for her. Most only thought about killing horses but she wanted more, she wanted their meat to cook and their hair to weave into her hat-wig.
She just hoped Chief stayed out, or at least did not go with the her group. That way she could take command and direct them all. They'd kill the dogs but chop up the horses. She herself would take it upon herself to pluck the manes. She also had to make sure they didn't kill any donkey's they had. Those were cute and great for carrying Tum-Tum.
When DNPWwO speaks up, the Chief freezes in stunned silence. A moment later, his shock changes to outrage.
Laz slides up to Play when the ugly wizard joins the bridge crew. He says quietly, "Is OK. I'sing spect there many berks all over village... We find yous some. Hai! You speak longleg's tongue, yes?" He asks casually.
Makena frowns at some of the chief's plan. She was all for helping her friends to improve the lot of their tribe; Makena certainly knew that small folk like them needed all the help they could get in this world of tall-ones. No not tall-ones, goblins called them shanks... something. it had only been a couple weeks since she'd found the Licktoads and been happily reunited with Feeva and Ki-Ah; she was still adjusting to being amongst goblins again though...
When the chief tells what the final group is going to do Makena stares at him in dismay. Why he want to kill horseys and doggys? She still missed her old friends, pony, and Mr. Barks had helped her a lot, all of her friends had! Clutching her flute she prays fervently to snake lady goddess Onee-sans had taught her of that she not be put in that group. Though... if she did then maybe she could try to hide doggy from other goblin, make sure they not get hurt, chase pony out of sands point...
She is snapped out of her thoughts as she is called out, and quickly finds herself pushed into one of the groups, next to a goblin with a large bow. "Why you talk bout books? Makena thought chief say this group attack bridge." Makena says to the bow goblin and another strange pale goblin he's talking to. Even if she wasn't put in the dog and horsey group she can still try and find some during attack and get them away.
Sticky is physically bouncing with excitement. Nothing her was glued, tied, trapped, or otherwise secured to re place like everything of value in the tribe had become since he discovered his talent.
He spots many shiney things and proceeds to stuff them in his sack as he goes. He has no idea if they're valuable, but he doesn't particularly care because SHINEY!
When his group leader charges into a wonderful smelling building he hangs back a couple seconds. Rule number 1 of thievery: let someone else go first and set off the traps.
He does follow, however, and starts nabbing expensive, shiney bottles off the shelves.
Teefee looks around as she assesses the situation. " Sting Sting, we go book hunting. Books nasty for goblin. We find we burn. Teefee didnt mean any of that, but went with the other goblins to hunt out the books, planning to steal some for herself.
Sticky ignores the screaming females and sees no books, so he starts grabbing all the light shineys he can carry. He can't grab them all, sadly. His sack is already heavy with gear for the raid.
The small archer hisses at the sight of the Godtalker. Laz knows enough of the Gods to be wary of anyone who could speak with them. His bow twangs as he sends two arrow streaking towards the priest.
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Oh he was a cranky goblin, All he could think about were those books those nice chunks of perhaps magical information. More spellz would be very important for his . . . quest for dominance. He would make that nasty chief regret sending him for so menial a task.
"Hey Boss boss Ki-Ah gonna magic you super big big like longshanks big kay?"
He began pulling out his prepared scroll of enlarge goblin (person) and starts to cast it, the scroll disapears in a puff of flame, and their valiant leader (albeit a bit unstable,) grew to the size of a longshanks person. Fearsome indeed.
Lets hope the fool rushes off like an idiot and gets himself killed....
He thought to himself before he started to cackle wildly.
Tochack wasn't really excited to get his soul stolen, but he will read the signs nonetheless to guess were longshanks would have needed the most help.
Hhhhm, Merchants write on books to note how much money they have... Mibbit me go there first.
He will shout to the other goblins in his group "While you go gluggadrinks, me goes find books, okay?". After saying so, he will run in the Mercantile League and say to the humans there.
Seeing half the group charge of with Rita made Targa sigh. "Goods, now idiot is gone we go do what we came here for: Kill horsies and steal me a goblin-horsie! You's recognise it by it bee'n more gob size and lots better than horsie!" She raised her voice but not so much that it would be heard by the humans. Then again, they'd probably not understand her anyway.
"You's free to kill a dogsies you find, but target is horsies! We's prove we can do with Chief says!" Hopefully these idiots would listen. Then again, there was the chance they simply were too stupid to listen to Rita.
Knowing her fellows were afraid of magic she started casting a simple spell, mumbling words they would not understand. When she finishes a glimmering, transparent layer seems to cover her entire figure, the glimmer slowly fading.
Even afer the attack is commanded, Puseater moved to the rear and tried to be hidden, or at least not in sight. So, as the attack behinds, moved to the appealing shop (boutique)
If enough to notice Brother Tochack, he will doubt between ignore Tochack and go loot the boutique or shadow him out of curiosity.
Sticky follows Feeva, secretly using her as a living trap-checker. He's in full looting mode now and gleefully nabs any small thing of value he encounters.
Laz briefly enjoys the loud thump of the Godtalker's body hitting the stage. He scans the crowd for another dangerous target, sending an arrow streaking towards the nearest armed or combative longlegs. Then he scrabbles onto a nearby crate and leaps up to the convenient gutter that leads to the roof. Metal screeches as a portion of the gutter tears loose under the archer's added weight, dumping the goblin with a bone-jarring whump onto the crate.
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Purseater starts taking all the tools and skill kits that are lighter and most valuable, then looks for the musical instruments, taking too the lighter ones; the only clothing that interest him is those that can wear, like child clothes or the likes and, of course, a bigger bag to keep the loot.
Then, after sniffing a bottle, starts breaking perfumes all around, trying to dampen all the shop with it. that smells really funny, Im pretty sure thats gona catch on fire really fast...
burn, burn, burn, the stupids longshanks shop sings Purseater while takes out his flint and steel and walks toward a windows
sparks, sparks, sparks, get bigger an eat the housesings again while smiling and giggling silly.
whith the fire on, he sneaks through the window to decide his next target.
"Good good, just warn other people that south is safer-ish."
After stowing a couple of accountancy books he finds lying around (or something similar) to have an alibi for his detour, he will think what building he should help evacuate next.
Cooked Meat-smelly one will attract gobbos, best go there first
Moving to the building with a rusted dragon on top, Tochack will repeat to the longshanks there what he already said to the ones in the Merchant guild.
"Also, have books you not need at hand? Long story."
"You'se, come here! We go get food! You not attack longshanks till I say, better to scare them." With that she starts moving, avoiding the chaos but leading her brainless band to the first place where she smells food. An inn or something they call it.
Makena is left standing on the edge of the square alone as their leader and several other members of their squad charge into the crowd of longshanks. She turns her attention to the priest, pulling out her flute, ready to cast a spell when he collapses. She looks around, squinting at the bow-gob Laz and shakes her head.
This was waste time, she heard lots of doggys barking, she had to gets to them before rest of dog hunting squad got them. In the chaos a kobold sneaking in the direction of the good and bad smells and barking dogs is easy to miss, which is good as she trips over something and sprawls into an alley and has to cast her spell to clean her robe, before hurrying towards the barking.
Sticky loves this arrangement. Feeva takes care of all resistance and he is free to lot and pillage at will! When his pack is finally full of trinkets, he takes a moment to toss out the junkies stuff before continuing on. In this manner his pack stays full while also constantly improving in quality and value!
"Oh noes!" whispers Makena as she spies the goblins fearsomely menacing and taunting the captive dogs. She wiggles on the spot as she peers around the corner at them. After a few moments of indecision she finally takes a deep breath and raises her flute to her lips, playing a soft, lilting song as she weaves a spell around the goblins.
When the spell fails to send the entire group to sleep she wrings her hands a little before looking at the dogs. Tucking the flute into her sash she puffs her chest up again.
she yells in Goblin in her best deep, growly, barking voice, hoping the goblins don't pay too much attention to where the voice is coming from.
Watching his arcane handiwork at play the meglomaniniac goblin clambers atop a table and scans the crowd mostly looking for armed and armored townsfolk assaulting his brethren. When he spots one he will channel a burst of arcane energy and shoot of a missle of pure magical force to unerringly strike at the humie.
Tochack will gulp before he starts talking.
"Tochack said, me follower of Dawnflower. If me wanted to hurt, me wouldn't have come here alone. Lotta gobbos here, no sense to go around alone if there are others who want to do the same thing. But me the only to want helping humans, so no ones with me. And" the goblin will raise up his little arms "Tochack didn't enter here scimitar in hand."
He will think for a second and then add "Besides, what Tochack would gain by telling you little safer way to run away? If you afraid I would steal from here, me could escort you until we're far from this house. But not out of town! Me has to find other humans to evacuate."
A wide grin appears on Auntie's face as she sees and hears the reaction of the fat man. She speaks in near perfect, almost accent-less common, sounding more like a lady than a goblin, "Dear sir, what do you think we are, savages? You are right about them it that case, but I am not."
She sighs, "No, I want to make a deal with you. You give us all the food in this delightful shop of yours and you are free to go. If you are smart you'd move to the south, there are fewer of my kin there." While talking she keeps one hand low as if waiting for the man to make a sudden move so she can send them in to attack.
Purseater takes as much meat as he can, searching a bit for shinneis and raw meat too, though he can sway away the image of Sticky (more properly, his great full of shinneis bag) He's smart -thinks Purseater with a mix of jelousy and pride- having someone to smoouth the way without caring about your loot... so smart
Chew, chew, chew,... starts to sing before feeding himself with some of the food while searching the best way to put that place on fire.
Laszlo rolls to his feet as the giant, lumbering, men bear down on him. He doesn't understand a word they say but their intent is clear enough. The archer knows a moment of, well fear is only word for it, However, that is quickly overshadowed by disgust. He'd heard that humans, while tasty, were an ugly, insane race... and it was true. Their skin-tones - from a sickly whitish pink to browns - were nauseating and unnatural. There were no healthy blues, greys, or greens. And in place of the sparse, wiry, hairs of goblins they had thick skull-fulls of fur in strange shades of brown, red, and even yellow. Some even had fur sprouting from their faces - like hedgehogs were staked to their chins! blech
Worse than that was the smell of them. Auntie said they washed themselves with soap! It was a delicious condermint (as Auntie called it) but it was ridiculous for a race that complained when they were eaten. Why slather yourself with BBQ sauce and then whine when people try to eat you? Insane.
Crazy or not, the ropey little Goblin had to deal with the menacing men. He leaps for the remaining portion of the gutter. Thankfully, it holds this time and Laz is able to scramble onto the roof and ready his bow. He exhorts some of the nearby goblins to come to his aid.
"Oi, you lot! Get these meaty, big, basterds!"
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Sticky sticks to the shadows and follows. If goblins are screaming then he likely wanted to run from it, but natural curiosity pulled him forward to at least see what "it" was.
Auntie offers the man a broad grin as the man recoils in fear, "Your saviour." After that she cackles madly.
She then turns back to the other goblins around her, "Gets the food! Strip the shop! Get also all weapons you finds! We needs em and fatty not!"
As she leads them out of the shop she addresses those around her, "The Mother of Gluttony blessed me with the ability to speak longshank so that I can scare them! Listen to me and she will bless you as well! Now lets move, find more to eat!" With that she leads on, stuffing her mouth with some of the meat they just found. They go searching for either horses or another place with food, still avoiding the central combat area.