We Be Goblins (And then some!)

Game Master Pip the Kid

Choperz Horslayer
Male Goblin Barbarian (Invulnerable Rager) 1
CN Small Humanoid (goblinoid)
Init +5; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +3
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Defense
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AC 21, touch 14, flat-footed 18 (+5 armor, +2 shield, +3 Dex, +1 size)
hp 12 (1d12)
Fort +2, Ref +3, Will -1
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee Heavy Shield Bash +4 (1d3+2/x2) and
. . Greataxe +4 (1d10+3/x3) and
. . Longsword +4 (1d6+2/19-20/x2)
Ranged Shortbow +5 (1d4/x3)
Special Attacks rage (4 rounds/day)
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Statistics
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Str 15, Dex 16, Con 10, Int 12, Wis 8, Cha 8
Base Atk +1; CMB +2; CMD 15
Feats Cleave, Power Attack -1/+2
Traits Reactionary, Suspicious
Skills Acrobatics +1, Climb +0, Escape Artist -3, Fly -1, Perception +3, Ride +1, Sense Motive +0, Stealth +9, Survival +3, Swim +0; Racial Modifiers +4 Ride, +4 Stealth
Languages Common, Goblin
SQ fast movement +10, hero points
Other Gear Scale mail, Heavy wooden shield, Arrows (40), Greataxe, Longsword, Shortbow, Backpack (empty), Rope, Waterskin, Whetstone, 21 GP, 9 SP, 8 CP
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Special Abilities
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Cleave If you hit a foe, attack an adjacent target at the same attack bonus but take -2 AC.
Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Fast Movement +10 (Ex) +10 feet to speed, unless heavily loaded.
Power Attack -1/+2 You can subtract from your attack roll to add to your damage.
Rage (4 rounds/day) (Ex) +4 Str, +4 Con, +2 to Will saves, -2 to AC when enraged.
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Chopslot never new his tribe they were destroyed when he was an infant. The ones responsible for their distruction took the infant goblin and sold him to a carnival. It was put in an oddity part of the carnival for all the people to look at the wild goblin. This lasted only a short time for as he grew he lost that baby cuteness and just became an ugly monster to those willing to pay to see it.

Thus started the second journey of Chopslot. This leg is where he became who he is today. The carnival sold the now two year old cub to Vankers Voldengrass. Vankers was not a nice person and his business was less than reputable. He ran a fight pit on the outskirts of Port Ice. This was the type of place where he would drop a couple of wild animals into a pit and only one was allowed to come out. He made his money on the betting. He took a little off the top from the bettors and pitted their money against each other. Chopslot was too young for the pit but he was given hard manual labor to begin with that made him strong, but he soon grew big enough. At the age of eight he was forced into the pit and given a sword much too big for him. His first opponent was an old horse. Now the goblinoids were notoriously scared of horses and dogs but Chopslot didn't know this fear because he didn't grow up in a tribe. Chopslot was told to kill the horse or be killed. Chopslot did just that though it wasn't easy for an eight year old goblin to do. He used that oversized sword and chopped the horse to bits and then began to eat the belly. This is how he got his name Chopslot Horseslayer, before he was just know as the goblin. For ten years Chopslot was put into the pit and forced to fight all sorts of animals and monsters and given all sorts of weapons to use. He also learned to tap into his inner strength and anger that allowed him more strength and endurance, though this only lasted a short time.

Chopslot time in the pit was not good to him we was caged when not fighting and given only enough to eat to keep him alive and able to fight. One night he was able to escape though not because of his heroics but of the stupidity of a hired hand. The guy who put Chopslot back into his cage forgot to lock it. Now spending as much time around humans as he did he learned common and overheard that all the people that worked in the pit were going to go to Port Ice for the night to have some fun of their own. Chopslot knew they would be gone for a long time and he knew this was his chance for escape.

After Chopslot escaped he went south keeping in the forests. He was able to take several items from the pit to help him on his journey included in these items were a set of armor, shield, longsword, and a great axe. Chopslot liked the big swords better but he didn't have time to really look for one. In his journey south he met with a goblin chief who told him of his plan to become a king. This chief told him he needed a warrior like Chopslot to do this and if he did would set him up with a position in his kingdom. A position that would cause everyone to look up to him. Chopslot had spent his entire life being looked down on and here was a chance to be free and important and have a cause. Chopslot didn't need anymore convincing he was in and would do what ever it took to make goblin king.

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"Please save Bighead friend Blackneck! Blackneck help Bighead set fire to mother's dog after she fed us fruit! Please! Please, nice tall-folk!" "OKAY OKAY OKAY ALRIGHT we will spare Blackneck, okay? Now SHUT UP." Rubbing his temples to try and get rid of the nasty headache he had developed from just thirty minutes in this goblin's company, Rodric Celes tried again to remember why he hadn't just killed the little bastard. Oh, that was right- they needed someone to help them find the camp. Rodric and four of his friends had answered an advertisement by a tavern owner in Cocoyashi village. After goblins had tried to sneak in and steal ale for the tenth time, in the process frightening and fighting some of the guests, the owner had posted a reward for any adventurers who could burn the little green sods' village to the ground. It was good money- anger always upped the price- and Rodric and his friends planned to collect. Running into Bighead four miles out of the town had seemed like a great opportunity; no one else knew the way through the hilly marshes to the village, and now they had their guide. Then he started TALKING. And didn't stop.

"Mother's dog nasty! Big thing try to eat Bighead ear! But Bighead clever, Bighead set fire to stupid dog tail! Chief proud, give Bighead much praise-speech..." cuffing him over the head for the tenth time, the small group broke through the final patch of ten-foot tall pointed reeds and entered the village. Clutching weapons in hands, the group looked around the muddy huts and pathetic attempts at civilisation nervously. "Squirt- where is everyone?" barked Rodric, craning his head to look up the huge hill on the other side of the village. He thought he saw a tower up there... "Long-Necks hear tall-folk come, hide up at watch tower up there! Most afraid, turn back, funny to watch them running so we watch. They not expect you tall-folk!" nodding hesitantly, Rodric gestured to his group as they slowly navigated through the village to the foot of the hill. As they reached it, Bighead suddenly burst into tears. "No no no tall-folk don't climb hill don't kill long-necks! Goblins sorry don't kill I want to kill them not you not you don't beat me please please kind tall-folk!" grabbing the hand of the last member of the party, Bighead tries to pull him back away from the hill. The dwarf grunts and shoves the goblin away, sending him sprawling to the ground behind him as the group begin to climb the hill.

Casting a quick glance behind him as he lead the group up the hill, Rodric felt a chill run down his spine as he watched the goblin slowly get to his feet, his posture suddenly much straighter and more proud than before, and point a perfectly still finger straight at the sky. A bright spray of four lights bursts out of his finger to hover a hundred feet in the air as the goblin gives a tiny smile with no teeth, and a huge, raucous yell sounds in sympathy from the top of the hill. Suddenly the ground seems to shake with a dull thunder, and ten heavy barrels appear at the top and then rapidly start to descend towards the climbing group. Rodric's eyes grow wide as fear fills him. On instinct he plants his shield in the gruond and calls out, "Take cover behind your shields! Dive to the side if you can't!" Despite having his gaze fixed on the barrels, Rodric is able to make out from the corner of his eye the sight of the goblin shaking his head mockingly. A series of eldritch syllables sound from the creature's mouth and flame shoots from his palm, striking each of the barrels in turn. All explode suddenly in a spray of oil set alight, and the cry is taken up at the top of the hill: "FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE FIRE!" Crackling and hissing, the oil engulfs all the members of Rodric's party, and he watches in horror as the scalding liquid burns them into oblivion. Thinking quickly, he hops up onto his shield and leaps backwards towards Bighead, landing safely on the ground just in front of the final wave of oil. Raising his axe, Rodric curses and lunges at the fat-headed squirt. Gazing out at the advanicng human with his enormous eyes, the goblin mutters again. Bright shiny lights flash before Rodric's vision, before it fades to black.

When Rodric regains consciousness, he finds himself unable to move, sprawled out on the ground. His eyes are opened by slender goblin fingers and he stares silently at the face of Bighead. "I feel this may be a suitable opportunity to greet you properly, sir Rodric" the goblin speaks in a voice suddenly full of the rich smoothness of warm caramel, each syllable booming with a depth so very different from the goblin's size. "My name is Bighead Inkyskin, wizard of the Long-Neck tribe. Please do not feel you have to stand." Sitting on the paralyzed man's chest, Bighead looks solemnly at him. "You should know that you are not the first to have fallen for my little misdirection; every so often my fellow creatures manage to bother one the humans too much and they send a group of butchers to our little domicile, heavy with steel and light of common sense. So I meet them, and lead them here... and then we meat them." Bighead smiles slightly at his little pun. "Forgive me, and the sad departure from the strictures and rigour of proper grammar that that small witticism requires, but I must admit it never gets old for me. Anyway..." standing up, Bighead waves to the goblins as they descend down the hill, many carrying haunches of deep-fried adventurer. "It was a pleasure knowing you; most attempted to gag me or slit my throat, and I had to deal with them out in the grass. But you simply struck me occasionally, and enabled me to bring you here and let my friends have their fun. For that favour... I give you this." A small bottle is pulled out, a stopper is removed and green liquid is poured down Rodric's throat. "Oil of Taggit. A simple potion to induce unconsciousness, certainly for long enough for my friends to finish gutting you like a dog." His eyes attempting to communicate a silent thanks as fear washes over him, Rodric feels darkness coming. The goblin bends down, and quietly whispers into his ear- "Bighead lie. Firebug oil burn bright spiky inside while goblins burn you bright and spiky on outside. Hee hee hee hee! Die, tall-one!" Then the mass of knife and torch wielding goblins finally hit Rodric, and the pain and burning began...

Sponge
Goblin Barbarian (Feral Gnasher) 1
NE Small Humanoid (goblinoid)
Init +4; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +4
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Defense
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AC 18, touch 15, flat-footed 14 (+3 armor, +4 Dex, +1 size)
hp 15 (1d12+3)
Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +0
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Offense
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Speed 30 ft.
Melee Bite (Goblin Bite) +4 (1d6+3/x2)
Special Attacks rage (6 rounds/day)
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Statistics
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Str 14, Dex 18, Con 14, Int 7, Wis 10, Cha 7
Base Atk +1; CMB +2; CMD 16
Feats Catch Off-Guard
Traits Restless Hunger (1/day), Surprise Weapon
Skills Acrobatics +7, Climb +1, Escape Artist +3, Fly +5, Perception +4, Ride +3, Stealth +7, Swim +1
Languages Goblin
Combat Gear Pig grease (5); Other Gear Hide shirt, Basket (empty), Crowbar, Decorative trim, Fishhook, Flag, small (ensign/courtesy), Magnet, Parasol, Sack (10 @ 19.68 lbs), Shovel, Teapot, Waterskin, 1 SP, 8 CP
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Special Abilities
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Catch Off-Guard Proficient with improvised melee weapons. Unarmed foe is flat-footed against your improvised weapons.
Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Pig grease Maybe it's the wide heads, but more likely it's the lack of common sense that causes goblins to so often get stuck in narrow spaces. In such cases, a dose of pig grease is really helpful. An application of pig grease applied to the body grants a +2 circumstance bonus on all Escape Artist checks for 1 hour.
Rage (6 rounds/day) (Ex) +4 Str, +4 Con, +2 to Will saves, -2 to AC when enraged.

Ikkthod rummaged through various vials and tomes hurriedly inspecting any little tidbit he found. Bear claw, no no no. Feathers, feathers, eyeball, no. he thought wetting the gnoll eyeball in his mouth and setting it aside. He had a box of Quarble toes in this cave somewhere. Ikkthod’s searching became more frantic as he moved from the shoddily constructed wooden table that his lab was set upon, the table often gave him splinters but he ignored them. Worrying something fierce, he stepped outside his small mountain cave, it’s inside lit with torches, and shouted at the treeling ”I know you’re out there Quarbles!” he screamed. Where WERE those toes? he needed them for the wards.

Ikkthod didn’t mind his life in exile, or at least he hadn’t until the confounded Quarbles. The others were jealous of his intelligence he was smarter than most humans, which gave him a Godlike intellect among the goblins. He could read write and speak in several different languages, admittedly this had happened nearly by accident, Ikkthod had been strolling along one day and he found the corpse of an Elven wizard in the woods, he then proceeded to do the only reasonable thing that all goblins would have done in his place, eat the contents of the wizard’s pack. He had woken up the next day with a new view on life, and a sharp mind, his previous love for destruction and explosions now had many new possibilities. After burning down five huts, poisoning several of his fellow goblins, and starting a massive forest fire, the chief had exiled Ikkthod. Feeling disenfranchised, Ikkthod traveled to the nearest city to attempt and join a school, that hadn’t gone over too well, those guards would remember him though.

After that, Ikkthod built a small home in a cave, and had lived peacefully, gathering components, stealing books from travelers if he could, testing his bombs on horses, dogs, and more often available, deer. Until the Quarbles showed up, little things at first moving things when he wasn’t looking until they actively stood outside his cave making Quarble calls, though everytime he ran out, they had scattered. Ikkthod HATED Quarbles, he would blow them all to bits and harvest their toes!