Ponk looks a little crestfallen as the massive goblin makes off with the fireworks, but consoles himself by scooping up the potions and helping the others collect pretties.
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Ponk jumps around gleefully and cackles. "We kill Vorka! Now we are true goblin heroes! Now we get fireworks and go home for lots of boomy fun."
Bleeding from where the dog bit him, Ponk whirls on Vorka. "Burn!"
Ponk shrieks as the dog tears his flesh, and then jumps back, sending a blast of flame at the dog's face. [ooc]5 foot step and another fire ray. Ranged Touch: Damage:
"Yaaah! Stop magicking in doggies! Stoopid not-goblin!" Ponk shrieks at Vorka, as he levels his hand and releases a stream of flame at her.
"I make crunchy spider toast!" Ponk scampers away from the spiders, gestures and gibbers and sends a fiery dragon out to burn up the swarm.
"Aieee!" Ponk begins slapping, stomping, and biting at spiders.
"Dirty dog-lover! You live with dogs, then you burn like them!" declares Ponk as he levels the skyrocket he's been babying at her. He snaps his fingers at the fuse and it ignites.
"Yup, yup. Up dere nuttin' but ropes, I tink. In dere better place to hide fireworks," says Ponk, drooling at the thought.
"Shut up, barkies!" Ponk raises a hand and throws a bolt of fire at the dog still chained.
"Pfeh. Me no see anything. Come on." Ponk goes up the gangplank first, ignoring the silliness with the rope.
"Hm? Me no see anything...me take closer look first."
Round 1: "Ack! Horsie!" cries Ponk, moving to put Ghlurb's bulk between him and the terrible creature. Pulling a smelly cloth fetish from his belt, he babbles a spell and the fetish bursts into flame, sending tiny, fiery dragons zipping around the other goblins to converge on the horse, where they burst with flashes and fire.
Ponk creeps up behind the others, looking for a spot along the fence he can see through.
Ponk lowers his voice as the wreck comes into view. "There be the fireworks place. It all decked out in dead goblin bits. Enemies be there."
"No eat all the nummies! We all get some! Let me look at stuff first before we take. Drinks could be magics...or poison." Ponk mutters words and waves his hands over the things.
"Where Lotslegs come from? It eat many goblins, but goblins keep stuff not worth eating, but worth keeping. We should find. If Lotslegs female, maybe there also be yummy eggs to eat." Seeing that Grulo also has the same idea, Ponk pushes off in the direction the spider came from.
Round 1: "Lotslegs means lotsfeet! More chance for slipping and falling!" Ponk makes a teetering movement and a rude noise with his mouth, conjuring a puddle of slippery goo under the spider.
Too surprised to act, Ponk simply gives a squeal of terror while tightly gripping the prized skyrocket.
Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Ponk nearly runs into Bregnac outside the Chief's tent. "Hoi, Bregnac. Good job with Squealy Nord. You great rider, for sure. Chief should let you feast on noisy piggy."
Grumbling, Ponk clambers out of a heaped nest of dirty blankets and oversized clothing. He thinks of setting Slorb on fire, but since the goblin is already laid out there's no point...what's the fun if there's no screaming? He gathers his gear and joins the others.
Ponk throws a fit at being found. He casts jumps away from the goblin that found him, casts flare into ist face for being bold enough to swing a club at him, then stomps back to the bonfire, cursing the whole way, to drown his sorrows in a few fermented apples, chased by some greedy nibbles on his block of soap.
Ponk scampers off, finding a dense group of reeds to crouch in and hide.
"Ponk good hider. They never find me here..."
Ponk howls with glee, hopping from foot to foot, as he watches the entertainment.
Ponk moves eagerly to the pit to see Nenus ride. Alternately shouting encouragement and licking his chops over the yummy-looking porker.
"Mmmm...feast! But first we need fire. That Ponk's job," the sorcerer says with a wicked grin. He begins a strange hopping, twirling dance about the growing pile of wood, breaking into song as he does so. "Greatest gift of gods to us is fire,
At the end of his song, Ponk throws out a hand and a sizzling ray of flam shoots from his fingertips to set the bonfire blazing, laughing at any goblins too slow to take his cue and move aside.
As the Chief departs the priestess stands and turns to Slorb and asks, "Where dose dis map show da fireworks to be?" Ponk peers closely at the map for several long moments, then puffs out his chest and stabs a finger onto the map. "Simple! Right here! We here, they there! We go this way!" Whether he's actually right or not seems to matter little, as he's extremely confident in his reading, especially if he beats Slorb to the punch.
Ponk bows before the Chief, then plops down in his appointed spot, glaring at Slurb's back and pondering the idea of a hotfoot later.
Ponk, so skinny his bulbous head looks like it should snap off under its own weight and roll away, paces half-circles around the entrance, possessed of an energy that keeps him in constant motion. He fingers one of the many dry fetishes hanging from his clothing and gear, it smokes then bursts into flame as he tosses it aside, oblivious as to who it lands near, or on. He can be heard muttering under his breath. "Stupid Slorb, thinks he so great. Ponk can make fire without torches. Much better than Slorb..." He pauses in his mutterings to bite the corner off a waxy, greenish block clutched in one long-fingered hand. His face scrunches in delight as he slowly chews and swallows, as if it were some great delicacy, better than pickles.
A goblin wearing fetishes of cloth, carved bone, and tinder steps forward and begins to sing. At certain points in his song, he tosses a fetish to the ground and sets it aflame with a word and a gesture. "Ponk Burngood best when time to fight,
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