Not-scheduled reminder to close the thread at your leisure, thanks.
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Player Name: Crunch
Thanks aplenty for the game! Need any other information?
By some miracle, the jumble of liquids had some healing potion mixed in! Not enough to wake up Poog, though. Unless anyone else produces more potion, Mogmurch sets to pushing the goblin's face back together. His doctor's intuition may also have him direct others to fetch more cake for the injured.
With all the luck he's having with rocks, Mogmurch scoots over to Poog instead. Easier to put the sleepy goblin in his debt. He rifles through Poog's pockets, ready to mix all fluids he finds into a healing potion.
Mogmurch hurls another rock, this time at the longshanks, and hopes for the best.
Mogmurch's keen observation powers tell him the dog is weak to fire! He once again sadly notes his lack thereof, then hucks a rock at it instead.
Mogmurch starts to feel a bit sour at his revival. Chuffy had to do it for a reason, like Mogmurch is indebted to him now. The big-headed goblin continues the cycle by swiping a potion and running back to the barn. "You Mogmurch's servant now," he says upon healing Poog with it. He gladly swipes the doll and the moonshine, as well as several diapers, all for explosives and/or recreational purposes. He returns to his previous goal of trying to set the barn alight before leaving.
Mogmurch is barely returned to consciousness. "Knew Chuffy'd come back for Mogmurch," the goblin slurs as he rolls over slightly. "Just that good..."
Mogmurch starts to blow a raspberry, but the punch to his mouth makes his body sag and his mouth deflate with an amusing noise.
Mogmurch takes Reta's place in trying to club the shortshanks lady.
Trying being the operative word. If only she was on fire or something.
Mogmurch sidles up and, angry he didn't get to the cake in time, hurls fire at its remnants. It's in Winnius's general direction, too.
Mogmurch considers dropping a bomb at his feet, but instead just scuttles off with his proverbial tail between his legs.
Mogmurch retrieves and hurls more fire before stepping closer in hopes of finding an escape route.
Mogmurch won't be beaten to the punch again! Besides, the longshanks is weird and his fire isn't up to snuff. He tiptoes into the barn, then hurls his own fire at the man with a squeal of delight.
...Well, he didn't miss the barn, at least, by virtue of being inside.
"Heehee! Dumb shack's already burning, it knows Mogmurch close," Mogmurch giggles. He peeks inside to check for something really flammable like hay bales. Otherwise, he smashes some fire paste against the barn wall.
Mogmurch can't beat Chuffy to the cake, but has plenty of consolation. The buildings look pretty flammable even without also the colorful trash thrown on top. He sneak towards the outside of the barn.
Mogmurch doesn't need the excuse. He immediately runs off in search of a better club to bounce his bombs with. "Hey Cackle! Blew up Kettlehead earlier, right after Mogmurch got his prize toad. Rempty's gone too." He makes sure to hound his unwitting master with only the truth about today's escapade.
Mogmurch snatches up the fire-related material. The torches are hidden away, the keg and alchemy lab cause him to topple over. "Faster we get these words taken care of, we can get to party and firemaking."
"Vengeance!"
Mogmurch exacts his glorious revenge upon the donkey!
Mogmurch readies his whacky-stick and tries to surround the donkey with his imposing 2' 6" physique.
"Elfy toes gross. Mash to pulp with rocks!"
Mogmurch uncomfortably advances upon being called out. His eyes (complete with new glasses) are on the ground, the only place he can't see any horses or weird words. "Dumb horse would move faster if on fire. Maybe we can pay less for tossing in good idea?"
Mogmurch was caught up in adjusting his goblin song, only now brought back to reality. "Hey! Who started fire without Mogmurch. Me didn't start the fire!" He notes the newly-added burning corpses. "Oh! Kitties. Woulda gotten to that eventually."
Mogmurch crashes in, furious at being late. So much so, in fact, that he forgets most of his song! After a minute of improvising, he launches into a new one. "Mogmurch is a real strong guy,
"Mogmurch master of poison when related to fire. Best to not drink, dummy. Coat sticks with it!" Mogmurch stays well away from the nasty poison, instead going to kick Kettlehead. He tries and likely fails to knock off the goblin's prized headgear.
Unable to fling rocks at Culgick, Mogmurch continues to settle for his longtime foe. "Can't shoot Mogmurch, 'cept if your bow's on fire," he lamely calls over the brawl.
Mogmurch continues his bombardment. "Get her, rocks!"
"Aaaa! No, too close! Plan failed!" Mogmurch steps away from his tormentor, using his fellow whelps as cover. He then hucks a rock at her.
Now that Rempty is within mole range, Mogmurch lets loose against his favored enemy.
Mogmurch produces his new mole-bomb. "No, you say you be stupid! Or Mogmurch do it himself!" He hurls the whole setup at his hated foe.
Mogmurch successfully captures a toad after nearly ten minutes! Only the sheer necessity of the task kept him on it for so long. ”We’re in this together, Polliwogmurch!” He affixes his new friend to his forehead and goes to join Chuffy. He is immediately distracted again, grabbing the remaining mole and shoving fire paste down its gullet as best he can. ”This my new masterpiece. They won’t ever see it coming!”
Mogmurch attempts his finest toad mating call. "Caw, caw!" But when he lunges for the next thing to surface, it's a stupid fish! He can't even catch it anyway.
The goblin decides to take a quieter approach. He circles to bog's other side, where he lies in wait until losing patience.
At least he saw a toad this time! He tries the successful tactic again, though he can't help but halve his hiding time to ten seconds.
"Aaaargh!"
Mogmurch drifts off thinking about how he might make a better fire using toads. "Real oily, toads..." he mumbles in his sleep.
Mogmurch tosses back the mud, confident it all stays in. He has no idea where the worm is, though. He meekly asks for another one.
Again he fails to find the worm! Fairly certain the game is rigged against him, he swallows the lot out of spite. They won't laugh when they gotta ram the big spider down their throats!
Mogmurch has this! He might be small and weak, but he's smarter than the rest, plus he knows so much about fire! He starts thinking up something very rude to say about Rempty.
Mogmurch spits out the rock immediately upon putting it in his mouth. He slinks to the back of the crowd. "Gotta unfair trick, Mogmurch's mouth was already hot from the last game. And he woulda done real good in that one too."
Dejected and sporting a nose running faster than some silly elf, Mogmurch decides against another try.
Mogmurch siphons off a small bit of stuff from one of his fire flasks. He then flourishes his hands at the audience and quaffs it. "Hey everybody! Knock knock! Who's there?" He says around the mouthful. Rather than progress the joke, he jumps right to the screaming with laughter (and pain). Just as planned, the lava-like paste shoots from his nose!
Mogmurch hopes his stupid butterfly mark will lure the spider in. Once it gets close, he lunges for it, a rope tied around his arm. "You're gonna be my friend, or Mogmurch'll eat you! Or could be that's a 'and'."
Mogmurch goes for whatever test is being held first. "All'a these stupid things I can win with fire! An' if there's any left, Rempty's next."
Mogmurch is ready! Just about.
Agreed, thanks for the help! I think you get to roll for a boon too.
Torgen keeps up his assault, fighting slow and steady to contrast Kiliuk.
Torgen swings both weapons at the clumsy creature.
Torn from his reverie, Torgen runs toward the obvious threat.
"...I mean, Luglurch isn't for everyone. In terms of price and their precious taste buds, or so they say. Not that it was even in the running for best beer. I swear, you haven't lived until you've quaffed some Fort Indros Ale." A conversation playing in Torgen's head seeps into speech. "So which way? You'd think it'd be easier to find a great angry two-head in a small space."
"Hope you two ladies brought a torch for yourselves, my hands are full," Torgen shrugs with his weapons. He ventures to the north, more listening than looking for signs of the ettin.
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