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No, you're fine. We're waiting on Granta, but he is generally busy. Still, it's been a bit, so when I get back from work today I'll send him a PM to ask if he's still in. Also, I'm trying to figure what to do with the Core table. It looks like at least three people are in, if the fourth isn't I'll pick up a player from the Flaxseed Lodge or something.
I don't mind playing for a CORE chronicle sheet if you need to swap bodies to fill a table.
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Being a chieftain is boring. Adventures are interesting. As goblin chieftains, you have quite reasonably decided that your minions in the Birdcruncher tribe should either entertain you or bring you an adventure to quell your boredom—otherwise, there’ll be trouble! A great feast has been prepared in your honor, and goblins are scattering every which way to get things ready. While the others try to keep you satisfied, a few even went with Squealy Nord to hunt for your favorite truffles.
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Mogmurch has implemented a basic education system for the village's brighter goblins, and is presently leading a class titled "How You Be Sneaky and Why You Be Sneaky." As a handful of young goblins mill about in front of him, he gestures to the swamp foliage behind him.
"Goblin name Likkety-Split hiding here somewhere. Anyone see?"
The students all shake their heads, so Mogmurch calls out:
"Likkety-Split, you stand up pleaze?"
A particularly plain-looking goblin obligingly rises from his hiding place in the foliage, and Mogmurch promptly blows his face off with a well-aimed bomblet.
"THAT," Explains Mogmurch as he turns back to his students, "is why it good you be sneaky!"
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Poog is nearing the end of a three hour sermon about the evils of dogs. He is currently in the middle of an epic story of Zarongel tearing apart a particularly nasty specimen of the species, going into minute detail about the order the limbs were removed from the body and how each organ tasted as it was removed.
Looking over the goblins that were attending the service, he notices a young goblin sleeping.
"Biffy! Wake Up! Does the history of the great Zarongel bore you?!?"
He leaps down from the stump he was standing on and bonks Biffy on the head.
"Just for that, you can stay after the service and help to extract unholy water from Squealy Nord. He has been out hunting truffles and probably drinking lots of water, he will undoubtedly have much unholy water to gift you."
Reta walks up to Poog and slams her bow to the table. "Me am Reta Bigbad, and me am the bestest of all warriors. But you am goodest talker Poog. Story need more fighty-fights." She looks to Chuffy, "You am right Chuffy, being bestest get boring. We need life more like song-story, stabby longshanks."
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One goblin hustles up to the raised platform upon which the chieftains sit at their table to inform them the games will begin shortly. No one present can recall his name, but then again, he can't be that important. After all, he isn't any of you, the great goblin chieftains.
Plunger and Reg Runtweed, two others goblins, wheel a massive covered cart into the feasting area. "A secret treat to make chiefs happy, after games n' feasting," they chorus and unison. However, a few other Birdcrunchers, hoping to curry favor, reported the pair had built a statue of the four, ruining the surprise somewhat. Once the high table is loaded with pre-feast snacks and fruit and soft rocks for throwing at unsuccessful entertainers, the show is on!
The sun is already dim as Mothmangler Munge, a half-baked storyteller, prances towards the chieftains wearing a silly green costume and barely hefting a massive dwarf axe. "There once was a story 'bout a Green Goblin King," he announces. "Walked inta some longshanks court one day an' said, 'Any of you can chop my head with this axe, s'long as I get ta chop you after.' So the dumb longshanks said yes, an' they chopped off his head. Then he put it back on, and, well...I don' remember tha next part. Bet it was boring." By the time he has finished this delivery, he is at the bottom step of the platform, where he presents the axe handle-first. "So now I'm the Green Goblin King! Which one'a you wants a swing?"
With a wicked grin, Reta leaps out of her chair. With bombastic zeal she pronounces, "Reta is bestest warrior. Me will whack whack whack the Green Goblin King!" She takes the ax and pretends to look it over (because that is what warriors do when then get a weapon). She then turns to her fellow chiefs and says, "Gonna whack 'im on THREE! ONE...T-". Mid-count she spins and swings with all her might.
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Munge, for once, does not squirm, and obediently prostrates himself at Reta's feet. She takes the axe, swings down, and leaves a sizable gash across his neck, but he remains conscious. He is about to say something when Chuffy relieves Reta of the axe and-
And so ends the tale of Mothmangler Munge. His head flies off spectacularly and the remainder of his body collapses into the dirt in a bloody heap. He does not, however, get up and reattach his missing noggin, proving he was not the Green Goblin King after all. The surrounding tribe whoops and cheers for some time, and Munge's friends are told to bring out the prize. They shuffle about for a bit before revealing nobody had thought hard enough to get one. Fortunately the thinking is generally left to the smart chieftains, and the organizer of the next event, Munkle Pupsquash, decides to keep things moving along before the great ones get angry.
Munkle, a relatively large goblin, brings with him four leashed goblin dogs. "All good goblins know 'The Charge of the Most Powerful Goblins,'" he calls. "Four goblin heroes attack longshanks city on good dogs. Jump the moat, jump the walls, burn stupid city and people to the ground and ride off with all the pickles. You do something like that today, because you all like those heroes. Each of you gets good goblin dog. We got Lil' Flaky, Grumbles, Snortlick, an' Chub-Chub. You jump mud-pit, go up ridge, kill squash that looks like stupid gnome, and charge down ridge again." Munkle grins and produces a jar of ointment. "First one down wins prize, unlike stupid Munge who had none. Is magic paste, heals you good, tastes like puppy bacon. Which great chief want which great dog?"
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"Aren't goblins supposed to entertain chiefs? Why chiefs competing in race for entertainment of goblins?
Well, Mothmangler head still give me giggle, so Poog will compete. Good dog Snortlick name remind me of Squealy Nord, so Poog choose him.
Other chiefs be content with lesser beasts.
Whose head I get to chop off when I win?"
Reta takes her pet toad Spotol out of her sack, "What you think Spotol, which doggy for me?" She waits a moment for the frog to respond. <croak> After a time sitting in her palm, Spotol's tongue flashes out to grab a dragon fly and begins chewing even as the wings and legs flail about. "Ah ha! Spotol choose goodly. Reta take Grumbles 'cause watchin' Spotol eat make Reta tummy growl."
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The chieftains select their glorious steeds, and a few pickled foodstuffs change hands in the crowd. Goblins bet on many things, and this is no exception. "No can believe great Chief Chuffy no picked Flaky. Bubble an' flake good combination, constant companions throughout growing up." "True, but Chub-Chub start like Chuffy, sounds same way. Can't beat that."
The chiefs are lined up at a crude starting line on their goblin dogs, bareback, as is the goblin tradition. Munkle then shoots a small firework to signify that the race is on! The four mounts roar out of the "gate," but are soon met with their first obstacle: The mud-pit.
Before mounting the dog, Reta whispers in its ear, "Me am no afraid of you. If I no win, me eat Grumbles, no matter what Spotol say."
She then leaps on the back of her mount/future meal as races toward the first obstacle.
Laughing gleefully as she clears the 'moat'.
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Despite his bravado, Poog knows that he is by far the worst rider of the group. He calls upon Zarongel to help give him an advantage, casting Speak with Animals.
Grumbles! Watch out, you rider want bite and eat you! Throw rider and run away!"
During the barking and growling, Poog reaches into his coat pocket and withdraws a crushed toad.
Handle Animal checks for the "diplomacy"?
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Poog will honor the attempt and throw the crushed toad in front of Chub-Chub.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Reta tightens her grip on the dog's neck. "You 'member what I tells you before. Reta no win, stabby stab and chompy chomp!"
Wild with laughter, "Dog smart! Do's good. No am being dinner!"
With her tongue hanging loose, Reta closes in on her target.
Pulling forth her blade, she brings it down with all her might in a double handed chop.
Bits of squash fly everywhere. Reta licks her blade in triumph, sadly disappointed that it does not taste like gnome at all.
Sheathing her dogslicer, Reta and Grumbles practically leap down the slope.
As they race through the brambles, the goblin takes out her dagger and holds it to the dog's throat. She happily offers incentive, "Be the bestest or be the dinner."
She looks wide-eyed as the chiefs race for the finishline.
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As he and Lil' Flaky ziz-zag past the brambles at absurd angles Mogmurch reflects on what a close finish it's going to be. The others could cheat to get a tiny edge, and there'd be no way to prove it since everything's happening so fast...if only there was some way to catch a view of the moment like a fly in a spiderweb, make it STICK so one could take time to look at it carefully....
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The goblins thunder down the slope, the footfalls of their mounts not making as much noise as the riders themselves. Several choice bits of diplomacy are attempted between chief and beast, some less friendly than others, but in a surprise upset, Poog is right next to Reta at the finish line! The surrounding tribe whoop and cheer wildly, but have neither the heart nor the brains to figure out who was slightly quicker, and are forced to tell the two they must share the prize.
To cleanse the chieftains' minds of this unpleasant memory, the next amusement is dragged forth, much more quickly than planned to further the distraction. Surprisingly, the whole camp has managed to keep a rather big secret, in the form of ten straw effigies representing the heroes' conquests. Six are roughly dog-shaped, three are horses, and one is a particularly hunched creation meant to be an ogre, which the four chieftains, previously initiates, defeated in one of their prior adventures. Trimple Rotmouth, a recent convert to Zarongel under Poog's tutelage, hand each goblin a star candle firework and explains. "All chiefs light rockets, rockets shoot four li'l fires. Use 'em to fire up the dummies. Plenty of dogs, easy to shoot, one point each. Horses're harder, two points. Stupid ogre Pa Munchmeat big an' easy to shoot, one point, but you can shoot his dumb face more'n once." With that, the effigies are dragged into a sort of piecemeal shooting gallery formation, and Trimple lights each candle at about the same time. "Ready, set, fire!"
"Time showing who am goodest chiefy. NO AM 'FRAID OF HORSE!!"