Globlob Needlefingers's page

As much as I hate to do this when we're all getting geared up for the next book, mythic, and whatnot, I actually have to bow out. Work has picked up significantly for me and I can barely keep up with one PbP, much less two or three of them. If there was any way I could keep it up while still enjoying things, I gladly would. But as it is, I'm dragging just trying to keep up at the moment.

Thanks for the great game, all. It was a blast while I was a part of it. I wish all of you luck and apologize again for the frustration and inconvenience of losing another so soon.

Globlob nods in agreement with Relas and heads over to door with him. "Someday, fuzzy cat, we find something easy to do. And that be good day." He, too, mashes his face against the door to see what he can hear.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Globlob, on the other hand, has far less finesse involved in his efforts to slay the beast. On one, he just mashes his tiny fist straight into the beast's larynx in an effort to crush the windpipe.

Coup-de-Gras: 2d3 - 2 ⇒ (2, 2) - 2 = 2
DC12 Fort save or die

Honestly, it looks more like he is tickling the cat.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

Globlob compresses his lips into a flat line of displeasure, but just nods along with Rav's plan. Crouching low, he pulls his cestus-clad hand into a fist, ready to smush one of the critters.

Stealth: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (12) + 14 = 26

Knowledge: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

When the sparky cloud thing enters his brains, Globlob gives a yelp but holds perfectly still. It is once the dreaming starts that he begins to flail wordlessly at the rest of the group, who probably do not even notice. Once he has a solid handle on the fact that his brain is spitting out dreams while he is awake, he pipes up.

"You mean fight everything," the skull-toting goblin corrects Rav with a weary sigh. "Glob only know one more good song, so this better not take long."

With a mighty heave on his bowstring, Globlob fwips an arrow at the last remaining guard!

Bow: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 6 + 1 = 10
Arrow: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

"You kill quick, Globlob runnin' outta songs!" The skull-clad goblin shouts at the rest of his group before drawing in a breath that makes his stomach bulge comically large.

He lets out all that hot air from his lips, fortunately, in the form of a little ditty that is bellowed rather than sang. To punctuate the final line of his song, he shadow boxes with both fists in the direction of the Klaven.

Globlob grunts and nods in agreement with Blekk as he moves to pat Relas's flank. "We not know how long it be until entire place go BOOM, either. Better we get out now before it come down on head. Especially because getting worse!" He points to the meteorite that has punched through the ceiling, because that seems a good enough reason to him.

"Too much talk. No more! We go!" Turning on his heel, he scuttles imperiously in the direction indicated by Palomia. Clearly, everyone else is expected to follow.

Globlob briefly drops out of bow-shooting stance to bounce up and down, cheering for Relas. His laughter is less of the infectious kind and more of the cruel amusement kind, though. "Go, big cat! Eat other big cats! Nom, nom, nom, hahaha!"

Afterwards, he immediately goes back to trying to bean the other tentacle-cat with an arrow. With a bit of help from his friends.

Boq: 1d20 + 6 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 6 + 1 + 1 = 14
Arrow: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Globlob scurries up behind Andretta and fwips an arrow between her legs at one of the approaching tentacle-cats.

Bow: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 1 = 8
Arrow: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Knowledge: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

Globlob huffs in exasperation at the sudden appearance of even MORE enemies. Since his voice is no longer resounding off the walls, he hollars another tune.

The bard grins wickedly at the success of both his sonic blast and lyrical genius, and pulls out his bow. Not that he really needs to do much more at this point, because all of his new friends have it covered, but it helps to make the token effort. So, he fwips an arrow at the nearest enemy.

Bow: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
Arrow: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Globlob, quickly stowing the wand in his belt, puts a foot up on the nearest bit of debris to strike a pose! After all, how else will the lizard things know who to really be terrified of as he shouts out a song?

Globlob nods in agreement with Biggun as he hauls his wand of Sound Burst out again. "Take too long. I fix."

With that, he creeps forward until he can see the group and blasts the lot of them with a burst of cacophonous sound! So much for making plans.

Sound Burst: 1d8 ⇒ 1 DC11(?) Fort Save to avoid stun.

Pre-Combat Spellcraft: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Globlob belts out a rousing ditty that will surely inspire his comrades to feats of...well, horrific violence, honestly. But really, isn't that always the goal?

Would Glob be able to also Spellcraft the thing before combat begins or is that something for after combat?

Searching a few of the rooms is good with me, too. @Blekk, I think if Rav was taking some time to get his gun stuff sorted, you could've made another mutagen. There's no limit that says one a day, just that it takes an hour to make.

@DM, I didn't even realize I was the one holding the wand, so let me dig up how many charges it started with and how many we have used so I can update my sheet with it. Sorry about that!

"Definitely confuse. Bah-grah seem like confuse easily. Rav good at confusing," Globlob chimes in with a nod that sends his big ears flapping furiously. Their brief rest done, he hops back to his feet and pulls his bow back out, just in case.

Globlob, being the dutiful healer that he is, promptly walks over to Biggun and starts jabbing him with the cure wand. Over and over and over again. At least, until he looks healthy enough to be able to walk on his own.

Cure Wand!: 2d8 + 2 ⇒ (7, 7) + 2 = 16

Not sure who is tracking charges on this. Whoever is, tick down 2 please?

At Blekk's reappearance, Globlob puffs up proudly and gives a big grin that is only half obscured by his skull hat. "Glob told Blekk! Is good trick, all fuzzy Bah-grah love dance. Everyone love dance; longshanks, too. Right, longshanks?" He looks up to Palomia for confirmation, expecting a great deal of agreement from her.

Globlob, realizing the resonance of his voice bouncing off the walls is dying down, swiftly belts out a second verse.

Remember Rav, Palo's acid did a whole lot of nothing to it.

His only real job for the group done, Globlob nocks his arrow and lets it fly in the direction of the Mimic. Hopefully he can bean it straight in the eye or something useful.

Bow: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 6 + 1 = 25
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Tbh, I mostly just pull them out of my butt. Find words that rhyme together and mash it all up into one bunch of nonsense that is somewhere near the same number of syllables per line. About a third of the time when I'm making them, I'm forced to sit there and go, "...I got nothin'." and leave it for a while. Which is why it takes so long for me to post the first round of combat most times! :D

That said, I'm very glad to hear they're enjoyed! Thanks for all the positive feedback. I'll definitely keep them up as much as I can.

Thank goodness. And here I thought I was writing them purely for my own sake. Glad to hear others actually enjoy them, I'll definitely keep 'em up.

Globlob gives a similar but far more high pitched shriek of dismay as the table comes to life. Anyone looking at him can clearly see that this is going to result in some serious paranoia somewhere down the line. Regardless, he wrangles his wavering voice into the best damn song he can manage, given the circumstances.

Afterwards, he snatches up an arrow from his quiver and gets ready to shoot.

Having seen Suicide Squad, I can confirm that it's not a great movie. I liked it, but I suspect that's purely because I'm a huge fan of the Suicide Squad to begin with. So there's a bit of bias there. As for the rest, it does seem like DC is dropping the ball HARD on their movies. I want to blame Warner Bros for it, but who really knows who's in control there?

I am seriously looking forward to Doctor Strange, though. Cumberbatch is a spectacular actor, so I just can't see it going poorly.

"Eh. Glob not good at...numbers. But maybe it dot-two-four of one day? Dat seem more right to Globlob." He nods quickly, then scurries over to join Rav and Palo in scoping out the room with all of the fancy chemicals. He gives a quick thumbs up to Bleek as he goes, calling back over his shoulder, "Do dance for Bah-Grah! They like dance! All in hips!"

Globlob rears back the wand and blasts the ooze with yet another burst of sound! Because he is a helper, through and through.

Sound Burst: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

"You talk to mini-metal-thing faster! Maybe it stop this glop!"

Very much ready to try to fire an arrow at the blob of ick, Rav's shouts about blowing up the ooze remind him of how they dealt with the last one. He drops his bow and sets to digging into his pack so that he might produce the wand of Sound Burst. Once he has it, he fires it off at the...thing.

Sound Burst: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3 DC 13, I think, to resist the stun. If it can be stunned.

Globlob, true to form, starts singing at the top of his lungs. Honestly, it seems a bit more like yelling most of the time, but no one has complained yet.

Globlob leans over to Palo and whispers loud enough for most everyone to hear, "Taste that way because he use smily goblin named Cherry to make."

With a sage nod, he pulls out the Cure wand and wanders over to Biggun. "You broken. Stop being broken." Pokepokepoke.

Cure Wand: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
Cure Wand: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Cure Wand: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Globlob, true to form, lets his song resound off the walls and draws his bow. Without a second thought, he nocks an arrow and fires it off at the nearest zombie. Namely, the one between Solie and Relas.

Bow: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 1 = 12
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Globlob clambers himself up out of the elevator shaft and, spotting the undead things, belts out a rousing ditty for his loyal fans.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

Globlob naturally steps forward to acquiesce by slapping Biggun across the face with an oddly glowing hand. If nothing else, he will wake up wondering why his everything doesn't hurt as much anymore. Or maybe just wondering where the swelling on his cheek came from. And he continues to slap until Biggun wakes up.

Cure Light: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Cure Light: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Notching an arrow to the bowstring, Globlob sights down the shaft and fires up at the beast. Once the arrow is loosed, he shouts up to Blekk. "Globlob catch both, you smush!"

Attack: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 6 + 1 = 19
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

If Blekk or Biggun falls, Glob will use an immediate action to cast Feather Fall on both of them.

Globlob's eyes go and stay wide as Biggun gets snapped up in the beast's jaws. Never mind the part where he is very nearly decapitated in the process. Either way, this fight has been started and he means to...well, at least help finish it. So, he promptly starts belting out a jaunty, slightly terrified tune!

+1 to attacks and damage for allies for three rounds!

Globlob's eyes widen dramatically and he takes a step back from the metal box, drawing his bow. He takes a deep breath as his cheeks bulge in a most comical fashion in preparation for the inevitable. After all, the only way to victory is through song.

Five foot away from the elevator, draw bow, ready an action to sing as soon as a scary thing appears.

Globlob does not bother to go anywhere near the writing, but he does answer Andretta when she asks questions. Not that all of his answers are particularly helpful. "Dat a book. See if aklemy stuff help Blekk any. Maybe it mean evil lizards steal voice of other gobbies they keep here. Or maybe it mean box and doors broken by tauslek. You know what tauslek is?"

Knowledge: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7 To see if a "tauslek" rings any bells for Glob.

Globlob follows Blekk's lead, climbing down the rope and hopping onto the top of the metal box. His eyes go wide and he sticks his head down through the hole in the roof. Bright red beady little eyes peer about into the darkness as he tries to see what he can see of the path ahead.

Knowledge(nature): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
Stealth: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (10) + 14 = 24
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18 If these are needed!

Taking 10 on the DC 5 rope climb just like Blekk did puts me at a 9. So no problems there.

Globlob perks up at the sight of the metal box down below and pulls his head out of the lift shaft. "Hey, hey! I found box. It down. Straight down. Way down there." He even points down the shaft and then peers toward the cable as he considers simply climbing it down to the box.

Globlob purses his lips and sticks his head into the lift shaft, peering down one way and then up the other. If he can see nothing in either direction with his 60 feet of darkvision then he does his best to listen. Just in case there is a moving little room.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

Globlob grunts to himself as he peers into one of the large hatches. "Unless we break these out, there nothing here. We go back to middle room," he announces, before moving to lead the way back out. Who cares about those creatures stuck in these tanks, anyway?

Globlob nibbles on one of his grimy claws as he follows Solie and Palo, peering back over his shoulder. "The dead longshanks like our longshanks but more... Different," he offers helpfully, "Maybe they from another place. Maybe we find more in here!" He hefts his bow with an arrow nocked and takes a deep breath in preparation. Every good fight deserves a good song, of course.

Globlob frowns and scurries forward to poke and prod at the bodies of these lizardmen. He similarly lifts an arm and drops it again, then peers into their mouths, and finally sniffs all across it. They do seem terribly familiar, despite apparently being from a different planet.

Knowledge: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

Globlob, now getting over his fascination about the weapons, fwips an arrow at the last standing lizard creature.

Attack: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 6 + 1 = 24
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Last round of song atm. Make it count!

Round 2

Globlob snatches up his own bow and scurries around to get a better look at these creatures. But his eyes immediately go wide at their odd spike guns and he gets briefly distracted in the process.

Move: draw bow; move: move 20 ft; free: oggle guns!

Globlob, after taking a good few seconds to take stock of the situation, knows what to do. He draws in a deep breath and starts to belt out a rousing song to keep his companions in the fight!

+1 to all allies' attack and damage rolls for three rounds!

Globlob pauses in his dancing to peer over to Andretta, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he says, his ears flapping about as though he means to take off, "Goblins always fighting goblins! Is no new thing. But she right, we leave. Pick a door."

Globlob scoffs in the middle of his dance without breaking stride for a moment. "Is all in hips. Nothing to. You try, come join."

Globlob shrugs amiably and glances around at all of the so-called "Bah-Grah." "Okay, if you want. Globlob barely know what he sayin', though." And without waiting for anyone to try to stop him, he goes right back to sliding through the motions of interpretive dance between the two groups. Because comedy relief is the true mediator here.

Globlob, true to form, slides into the room and promptly starts tapdancing his way toward the woman with the downed gnoll-things. Along the way, he makes sure to snap his fingers along with the beat his feet make with every step. If it were a human doing so, this level of skill and professionalism would look brilliant and elegant. But as it is a graceless goblin, it just looks weird and silly and downright ridiculous. Not that he minds. There are some gnoll-things and a new lady to pacify.