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Having eventually recovered from his glorious ride into battle on the back of a pig, and nursing a bit of a grudge at whichever goblin knocked him out (Poog still can't be sure who it was that hit him), Poog heads down to the pig pen, points and the beast and proclaims to the village "I name thee 'Squealy Nord' for your ferocity in battle!"
Player: TomG
Poog continues to lay unconscious, dreaming of slaying dogs and wielding flaming axes against evil horses. Were Poog conscious, he would will the man to trip over his inert body and accidentally smother himself in the mud so Poog would get the credit.
I do appreciate it. The writeup made me snicker enough I got quizzical looks from the spouse, and had to share it. Laughter ensued.
Poog's mind wanders in delirious blackness.
Poog coughs, and blood gurgles in his throat, drowning him slowly.
A shimmering, illusory image of a goblin appears in the middle of the lodge. "Humph. This way I don't have to smell the lot of you. Besides, I'm busy breaking up a wedding. Anyway, I need the following adventurers to muster, pronto and post haste. Even faster than that, if you can manage." "And I won't be singing for you this time. You ingrates don't deserve it."
Poog uses his tongue to clear frosting from his eyes. "We not just Lick-toads, we also lick frosting!" Taking advantage of the tight grouping of humans, Poog releases his best spell, catching both of the ugly humanoid things in the blast.
Satisfied with his handiwork, Poog hops to the other side of the table, putting it between him and the half-sized humans.
Poog opens the gate, and leaves it open. He then rounds on the "friendly" little piglet, and sizes it up for use as a steed. If he thinks it of sufficient size, Poog tosses up a plea to Zarongel and attempts to climb aboard.
As the greatest animal rider ever (an homage to Zarongel's most holy mounted combat), Poog creeps off in the direction of the animal pens, and motions the other goblins to follow. He doesn't check behind his should to see whether they do.
Poog, exhausted from the spell casting and single-handedly defeating the Kettlehead, the cats, and the wagon woman, collapses in a pile of soft moss and mud under a tree. He dreams easily of fire and delicious slime, and of a time when his best friend Zarongel comes to ask him for advice. Poog the mighty hero awakens at Slorb's call, instantly ready for action. (While making his morning water behind the tree he mutters some devotions to Zarongel in the hopes he'll be able to use some spells later in the day, but after that he's ready.) As he hustles to the gathering place, he sings a new goblin song based a goblin story he once heard about oranges. "Chuffy, Moggy, Reta, Poog
Poog knows written words are horribly dangerous, and this occurs to him as he is chewing on them.
Poog spits out the paper and the evil tasting words in the general direction of Reta. "Blech. Tastes worse than those 'strawberries' that whelp named 'Plum Puddin' tried to feed us back in the cage."
Poog grabs the paper and looks at the words in revulsion. Words are evil.
Poog scrunches up his forehead in consternation. Words Poog can't read are evil. Spoiler:
Poog hopes it doesn't say "I prepared 'explosive runes' this morning." He licks the paper, takes a bite out of one side, then passes the rest to Moggy. Poog keeps the map.
Poog dances around the burning wagon, all the while making sure that any easily salvaged loot is his to claim before the greedy Reta can get to it. "Burn and blast and smoke and fire
Poog looks around briefly (not too much, as he's distracted by fire and treasure), and is a bit disappointed that no one else is singing.
Poog steps up to the woman, and attempts to retaliate for the stone that nearly hit him.
Unfortunately, he's a bit giddy from the excitement of the fire.
Poog, surprised and awed by the fire bursting from near nothingness, loudly proclaims the might of Zarongel. "Behold the fire of Zarongel, and lo! 'His Burningness' showers us with approval." "Except for Chuffy. ... Where is Chuffy?"
When the crazy human-girl-person throws a rock at Chuffy, Poog decides he should throw the first thing at hand .... which is the vial he swiped from her outstretched palm. Poog chucks it in the middle of the potions display.
Poog swipes the offered flask, and quickly replaces the now empty palm with half of a (slightly squished) banana. He grins widely at the trade. It was his favorite remaining banana.
Poog offers to trade most* of his possessions for a potion that will make him breath fire. * Possessions worth trading: chewed stick, half a banana, handfuls of dirt (3), square of burlap, wooden goblin doll, and the newly acquired broken spectacles and watch chain.
Poog helps himself to the other tanglefoot bag, as is his right, being the first to enter the cave. (Poog glares at Chuffy for grabbing the hardtack first, though.) Poog also helps himself to the broken spectacles and watch chain. He turns the latter into a gaudy necklace.
Poog boldly marches into the cave, his eye flitting to the sparklies.
"Hah. Poog definitely be mightiest." Full of renewed confidence, Poog once again removes the toad from his head (shaking off a bit of the sticky mud that held it there), and presents it mightily to the dark. Poog holds the toad aloft and sings goblin songs of glory. "Our Licktoad fury has not ceased
... Poog struggles to find a good closing line ... "And Chuffy's boils smell like yeast!" As he marches forward, Poog also keeps his eye out for any treasures in the cave. It wouldn't be right if lesser warriors claimed it before Poog the Magnificent.
Poog, senses the end is near (although whether for the scary beast or for Poog, he's not sure), and swings his club again.
Muttering a prayer to Zarongel (really, just a complaint about how he's never there when needed), Poog takes aim and swings again.
Poog makes his sad panda face, and screams in evil frustration. "This terror must be half dog (or maybe even half horse!) to be so vicious!"
The toad atop Poog's head gives an encouraging 'ribbit', but it doesn't help Poog hit the cat.
"Hee hee. Moggy swing so high he not even give a longhshanks a knock in the head." Although Poog secretly hopes he won't do the same on his next turn.
Attempting to do one of the many things goblins do well—that is, hit things that are running away—Poog takes a swing at the fleeing cat.
Not content to hit the ghastly monsters fewer times than his 'friends', Poog swings his table leg one more time.
Poog curses his luck for having already used his only really good spell, and swings his club.
Should nothing happen after two—of maybe two-and-a-half—seconds, Poog scurries back behind Chuffy. He's not scared of the dark. It's just that the dark doesn't light on fire very well.
The scavenging finished, Poog pulls his toad from his head, and holds it forward in one hand to the dark. He grips his club in the other hand, and walks forward, entering the cave. He sings to himself as he walks, under his breath, as if to give himself confidence. "Goblins fight and goblins battle,
His confidence buoyed, Poog coughs slightly, then loudly proclaims: "Poog be great Licktoad!" And with the final declaration, Poog licks his toad, grandly and deliberately.
Poog sniffs at one of the bottles. It doesn't smell rotten (yet), so he grimaces and tucks it away. Maybe he can pour it on Moggy's head later. Poog also takes the salt shaker. "Come 'ere, slugs!" he says the the flunkies. Poog flings salt in their direction when they comply. "Hurry back and tell Licktoads how mighty Poog and his frien— ... I mean companio— ... no, how mighty Poog and his minions are!"
Poog inches up on the path, and calls forth the holy fire of burningness.
Flush with confidence, Reta slowly and subtly (for a goblin) reaches down with her non-toad-holding-hand to touch the nice thong at her belt. Poog's mind reels in horror at the thought of Reta doing anything with her thong. Focus on the fight. Focus on Kettlehead. Focus on hitting things. Get ugly thoughts out. Out, out out!
"Hah! Kettlehead just be 'Lick' 'cus he have no toad." "And if he still be grumpy, then he get licked too." Poog smiles nastily at that one. Poog is a goblin. And this seems a perfect time for a new goblin song. "Kettlehead be toad-less bum
"... And Culgick and Rempty, too," Poog finishes lamely.
Stifling his compulsion to catch them all, Poog hurries to the edge of the swamp. The little goblin considers his options, before muttering a quick prayer to Zarongel. Here's hoping he not out burning infidels.
Poog considers his options, then opts for a stealthy approach.
Poog replaces the frog on his head with his toad (sticking it firmly in place with a glob of mud), then watches Reta's successively spectacular failures. She no think her pain be funny, but she wrong. This be very funny. Things get really weird though when Reta tries what Poog can only interpret as a mating dance. He shudders in revulsion, and again in wonder. Finally, Poog decides that maybe if he helps Reta she stop trying to mate. "Here, Zarongel help. You tell him thank you when you see him next."
Maybe helping isn't his strongest skill. But he tried. Maybe that be enough to keep Reta at arms length for a while. His good deed done for the year, Poog scurries away toward the cave, one hand clamped firmly around his toad, and humming goblin war songs to try and keep the image of a very large goblin head out of his brain.
"Hah! Poog get there first. And lick toad. And maybe frog." Poog departs without much thought for preparation.
"How 'bout Moggy? If he not catch on fire, maybe he catch cold." "Or broken leg, or summthin ..." Poog finishes, lamely. Mischief sounds like fun. Maybe there's something to bash with his new horse-bane dog whacker.
Poog considers lobbing a mub ball at Kettlehead's backside, but chooses to ingore the his nemesis instead. Maybe the lug will get eaten by a horse or something. Content with his new-found freedom, Poog roams the village, drinks slime-water from a nearby pot, and stretches his legs before eventually retiring for the evening.
Rolling his eye (and briefly forgetting about the frog on his head) Poog decides there is nothing else to do but obey. But he does say a little prayer first.
Poog doesn't find any worms. Maybe the goblins playing tricksies, and giving Poog mud with no worms. Poog glances to the side and sees the other whelps continuing. He braves a glare at the goblins not eating mud—particularly Kettlehead—and tries again.
Poog feels a live worm slither between his pointed teeth, and ...
Bracing his stomach for one last attempt (and confident knowing that he's performed better at the previous challenges than his whelpmates, especially the insufferable Momurch), Poog screws up the courage for a third bite of mud. Again he's rewarded with a worm! But Poog is hungry from all the thinking—singing goblin songs is hard work!—and the worm gets accidentally swallowed with the rest of the mud. And now Poog is full. But he ate mud, and that was the show the goblins wanted anyway. Does Zarongel like mud? the little cleric wonders. Maybe he could eat some worms for me.
Chuffy notes they only started clapping after the third hit - either they waz stallin or three is a lucky number. Same happened to
Poog stares around exasperated, wondering why everyone either ignores or misattributes his grand feats of machismo and daring. Words. Words are Poog's Bread and butter. Or toadstools and bug slime, if you prefer. Poog grabs the first hot rock with confidence, and almost swallows it accidentally.
Not content with a simple insult, Poog breaks into goblin song: "Reta's face like thorny plant,
Poog stops, suddenly realizing he's made a mistake. How can he rhyme with 'orange'?! Biting through the pain, Poog starts over. "Kettlehead makes kissey face
"Chuffy dumber than a rock
In recognition of his accomplishment, Poog grabs nearby frog and positions it on top of his head as if it were a crown.
Poog "Harrumphs" slightly in his pot, water streaming down his face, and looks around wondering why everyone is cheering for Chuffy. Then he lets out a very ungoblin-like shriek as he notices someone tossed in a bar of soap. Poog climbs quickly out of the pot, tripping on the lid, and spilling it on himself. Rotten vegetables flow in the mud around him, and he stands as regally as he can. Poog nonchalantly brushes something green, leafy, and partly rotten out from behind his ear, and sniffs the air haughtily.
Poog likes fire. More than animals, and definitely more than other goblins.
Poog looks for a tree. He doesn't like trees, but sometimes they burn well. He wants a big one. He pushes a small caldron of water under it. Maybe oil. Maybe oily water. The diminutive goblin mutters a quick "prayer". "Uh, Zarongel? Your bestie, Poog, here. Don't let me die, okay?" Then he begins to climb.
Once at the top, he looks out over the branches, and tries to line himself up with the waiting cauldron underneath. He mutters another prayer, then he calls forth holy fire, hoping to catch the tree and the branches underneath him on fire. Poog has a vision of him standing gloriously in the flames before diving into the small caldron of water. Or oil. Or soup. Or whatever.
Poog jumps. Through the burning branches, hoping to land in the pot.
"Oww..."
Poog considers racing forward to try and beat Reta. He could, but maybe he can steal the crowd's attention instead. "Behold," he says "Goblins be great because of Zarongel also be great." Poog throws his hands in the air, and prays loudly. "Oh, great burninator, It's uh, me, Poog. Grant Poog power of winning. And winning more than Reta."
Then, a bit more under his breath, Poog casts touch of fatigue, and dances around the little beast until he gets a successful touch.
Wiping the mud from his face and ignoring the jeers from the watching goblins, Poog tries again.
"Zarongel says you 'knot' go anywhere, spider!"
The little goblin waits impatiently, tapping his foot off beat from the several self-styled "bards" in the Lodge. He finally points at an unlucky Pathfinder. "Hey, yous. , is it? You're the one the boss wants, I think. Get packin'" His selection made, the grumpy goblin hurries back out of the Flaxseed Lodge.
Lottery:
A grumpy goblin hurries in to the Flaxseed Lodge. It's almost enough to make your stomach go a bit queazy. "Listen up, longshanks! A Venture-Captain wants one or two of you to order around and get a thing from some guy." "She probably more specific, but me no head for details." "It easy mission, so only for you newer, less stringy ones. And nothing fancy, like alchemists or dog trainers. If still interested in being someone's lackey, go sign up!" You marvel that with this sort of sales job anyone signs up for Society missions at all.
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