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"What if we prove to be sneakier goblins by setting ambush for whatever cook Scribbleface? We would need to clean up mess outside, maybe even make it seem like nasty horse and dog are still there... but whatever try to cook Scribbleface will be back, right?"
"Yeah, this not a good place for sleeping" Gniffles chimes in, looking around the interior of the cabin. "Bad spirits in this place. Dead goblins here."
"Gniffles knew you would!" The goblin shouts back, a bit defensive of his own behavior. "That's why I got out of the way, so you all could work easier. You are welcome!" With that, he rushes back up the plank, though still keeps his sling loaded in case the dog is not dead-dead, but only partially dead.
Gniffles the Courageous stands shivering at the base of the mast, with his sling outstretched before him poised to strike at any hound that comes bounding his direction. The commotion in the room at the top of the plank goes silent. "They all must be dead now." Gniffle realizes. "Gniffles is alone."
Gniffles retreats. He's not sure what might be up in the crows nest of the mast outside, nor how many goblins could fit up there, but he's intent on getting into a position where he might attack unmolested. Doubling back on the gangplank, Gniffles rushes down the boards toward the base of the old mast. From the base he loads another bullet into his sling, ready to hamper the beast's pursuit.
Gniffles rushes to try and stop the bleeding, wary not to let on that he has no idea what he's doing.
The loincloth whistling as it spins violently over his head, Gniffles releases a stone at the frothing beast.
Gniffles drops his staff, clattering to the deck boards and rolling slightly with the tilt of the beached vessel. Once again he rips his loincloth free and fumbles around for one of his stones to load up. The goblin is clearly not very proficient, as he's taking quite some time to prepare the weapon.
A brilliant flash of light bursts like a firework at the tip of the beast's muzzle, as Gniffles brings it to life from the other end of the deck. As quickly as it had appeared, the flames and sparkles dissipate harmlessly into the swamp air. The trick is more for show than anything else, but it may provide a long enough distraction for his goblin buddies to get into position.
Gniffles marvels at the decorated skulls that adorn the far doorway. They capture his attention long enought that by the time he notices the giant dog chained to the main mast, many of the other goblins have already begun sneaking by. It seems a waste however to let a dog live. Filthy, stinky, ugly, fanged.. All of these characteristics he intends in the least flattering way, of course, which a much different tone than when wooing lady goblins.
Hmm, I didn't intend that as a serious "uncomfortable", as in morally opposed to anything going on. It just makes things way more real, ha! That doesn't happen often in RPG's, as I have yet to battle an orc, nor fly a dragon. Should the opportunity come up, I imagine it will enrich my roleplaying experiences significantly!
Gniffles chuckles at his own brilliance, "Wasps no sting trees. Gniffles should have been a rogue, so sneaky!" With that he begins to creep back up the gangplank, tiptoeing between the slain wasps like the ninja he perceives himself to be.
I spent this last weekend camping with my extended family. We were all playing cards sunday afternoon and I took a drink from my soda, then spewed it all over my wife and the table... because a bee was inside my mouth and had stung my lower lip. It must have crawled into the can when I wasn't watching and ended up somewhere neither of us wanted it to be with the next drink. I only tell this story because it makes me quite uncomfortable with the current events in this adventure.
Gniffles stretches his arms out wide beside him as the swarm engulfs his little body, standing perfectly still within the buzzing cloud. "I am a tree. I AM A TREE!"
As Um and Aka seperate lucky shoes from the horse's corpse, Gniffles bounces excitedly. He notices Zurk ploughing ahead though, and eager to watch him tear apart anything that might get in their way, Gniffles follows.
"Somebody should chop off horsey feets! I hear metal shoes bring good luck... or maybe it bad luck, which is ok too. We give them to others then."
A chill runs down Gniffles' spine as he recognizes the tracks. He knows exactly what lies around the back of the ship, and he begins to question whether it was actually running away from them. Perhaps, it was luring them in. As the monstrosity stomps into view, Gniffles is well prepared. The expression on his masks seems to distort into a menacing scowl, staring down the large, matted animal and causing it to doubt it's own superiority in the presence of such mighty Licktoads.
As the air begins to chill around the stomping beast, Gniffles quickly manuevers for cover from those charging hooves, trying to keep a solid object between himself and the horse. Then raising his staff into the air, the bones and baubles twisting as a gust of wind picks up, again assaults the creature's diminutive mind--hopefully clouding it to the point that all actions are suspended.
"Gniffles thought something was coming this direction. If it not coming to us, then it running away from us!" At that, Gniffles raises his staff into the air and rushes toward the fence... whatever's on the other side won't escape the wrath of the Licktoads!
Gniffles is unable to see much of anything through the eyeholes of his mask, but his wheezy breathing can be heard beneath the wooden cover. "You live until tomorrow, Gniffles can fix spider bite. But today, Gniffles can only play with minds, not flesh." His speaking trails off as Zoog shushes the party. Gniffles grips his staff tightly in his small hands, twisting the wood as the bones and baubles atop it click together and rattle.
Fanfare! Pomp! Parade! Explosions!
Gniffles races to the slung corpse of a dog and begins to beat it with his staff, again and again. The thumps continue until the poor witch is exhausted and struggling to breathe from the exertion. "Never. Can be. Too. Sure." he manages between breaths, smiling behind his mask. His dog caution satisfied, he begins searching with the others.
Unable to spot the invisible sweaty goblin frog, Gniffles concludes his disection of the spiders. "We follow Spug now. Lead us to tasty nest!" He shouts, with a boney arm raising his staff in the air.
Nice work guys! Sorry for my absence, but I'm rarely able to post much if at all on weekends. Glad to see we didn't all die on our first encounter :)
Gniffles crouches beside the muddy footprint, watching it slowly fill with water, before quickly standing up and wheeling about--scanning for any movement. "It fresh!" He growls, not understanding how something could be so close without them noticing it. He tries to sniff at the air. It smells like swamp and sweaty goblin. He reaches a boney finger down and sticks it in the muddy footprint as well, then brings it back up to his lips. It tastes like mud and sweaty goblin. "It might have been a sweaty three-toed goblin." he muses, putting the pieces together. Gniffles then pushes himself back up to his feet with his staff, and bounds over to the dead goblins. Pulling his own blade free and replacing the thong about his naughty bits, he starts cutting into the giant spiders' curled corpses. He's hoping to find anything small and solid that he could use as sling stones, or perhaps something tasty.
Gniffles reaches for another gallstone, loading it into the sling. He licks it for good luck this time, then whips it at the hanging pinata. He doubts there will be candy inside, but there's likely to be something delicious in there!
Yep, that's exactly it. Gniffles is tired of slinging rocks. Although, come to think of it, you can't exactly try to treat a person who's in the middle of a fight. So I'll have to wait. More rocks it is!
Is the poison Zoog and Horsecutter are suffering from persistant?
Gniffles squeels in frustration. "Spiderses is too stupid to cloud!" he realizes. Which is unfortunate as nearly all the power he has been granted thus far clouds the mind. Dropping his staff into the mud, he removes the sling that's been covering his gibblets. Hanging free in the humid swamp breeze beneath the tattered robes, he loads a small gallstone into the thong and looses it at the hanging spider.
...so don't be afraid to try crazy stuff or charge through enemy lines (assuming you can actually take the beating). Fantastic!
Frightened by the hairy creatures that quickly descend on the group, Gniffles retreats from the area beneath them as their shadows grow larger above him. From a safer distance, the goblin digs his feet into the mud beneath, digging his staff into the soil as well and wheels about to face the arachnids. His wooden mask twists and creaks as one eyebrow seems to slowly raise in a menacing scowls. A chill breeze rushes through the swamp, bending reeds and causing the grounded spider's hairs to stand on end. "Crush the Many-legs on the ground!" He shouts, "His flesh is ripe!"
Thanks for the heads up Chief! Last week I was on a vacation with the fam. And even with my laptap along, it's tough to find time to just sit at the computer. So it makes sense if you are unable to update often. We'll try not to burn everything down.
Gniffles shrugs and turns back to the water to wash himself off. No! He thinks and stops himself. Gniffles have inner beauty, show it to world! Like that glob... so colorful! Instead he does his best to scrub his mask clean, leaving the rest as accents on his matted robes.
Haha, I really appreciate that :)
I'm not sure if I can actually do what I just described. I just assumed that with 2 natural ones I had no options but to fail spectacularly.
After a couple of noisy apple crunches, a low rumbling can be heard emanating from the witch's stomach. Even the once sinister and gnarled looking mask is beginning to look somewhat afflicted and uncertain. As the rumbling grows, the munching stops and Gniffles slowly buckles at the waist... reaching out to hug his knees up to his chest beneath the folds of his ragged robe. For a moment he rocks himself slowly, maintaining this fetal position. Then the rumbling stops. And the deluge begins. Vibrant colors and textures spew forth from the goblin, knocking the massive wooden mask from his face and blotting out the moonlight before dumping the rainbow upon those lucky enough to be standing within his cone of influenza. Following the geyser burst, the goblin continues to heave as if his body wanted to purge even the organs from his system. Finally, the convulsing subsides and the shivering goblin wipes the colorful slime from his lips and positions the mask back over his head. He slowly raises his staff in the air. "Gniffles?"
Gniffles had forgotten about the apples! After what just wriggled down his throat, he is quite eager and pounces upon the half-eaten fruit. Then quickly tries to recompose himself, leaning casually against the stump that recently served as his stage and lifts the apple up beneath the base of his mask and begins to munch away.
2 natural 1's!!! Wow, not impressive Gniffles!
Gniffles chants to himself and wanders aimlessly into the shallow waters at the edge of the camp, as those eager for a display of prowess are left pondering his stability.
After about 10 minutes sloshing through the mud and mire, Gniffles emerges from the shallows--putrid water dripping from the hanging folds of his clothing and a sinister grin curling upon his wicked mask. Using his cane his slowly climbs his way on top of a large stump, kicking the toadstools off of his make-shift stage and thrusting his arms into the air. "Behold!" The booming voice whispers in every goblins ear within 100 ft. of the stump, causing them to pause in their revelry and destruction to face the stump. With one hand holding his staff in the air, baubles and trinkets dangling; and the other dangling 3 pulsating, brightly colored slugs. The slugs wriggle in the witch's grasp as he raises them higher and higher, finally letting a deep purple one slide through the mouth hole of his mask and into his gullet.
With each slug, a spray of slime and mucus sprays from the mouth hole of Gniffles mask--coating those standing nearby. If anyone could see the poor goblin's face, they would note the rather unhealthy color beginning to wash over his features.
Likewise! I want to get my goblin on!
Gniffles stands near the massive pile of kindling, arms stretched out before him. The sleeves of his robes drape across the ground, having fallen back to his shoulders with his arms outstretched. He maintains this position while chanting to himself and giggling.
He also wanders around growling at younger goblins. It seems the mature thing to do.
Being 4th of July week as well means a lot of people in the US might be on trips
Yay! Big bonfire soon! Burn away the bad juju from scribbleface's written words
Gniffles nods excitedly at the chief's request, a quiet squeezing building behind the sinister mask the entire time he is speaking. Finally, with an eager crescendo as the chief finishes, Gniffles thumps the butt of his staff on the ground, causing the dangling baubles to rattle. "We no disappoint chief! Me know swamp. You pick goblins well!"
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