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"Don't size me down. I'll fit." so saying, the stubborn monk takes point, leading the way down into the hole of the rust beasts.
Turgrim chimes in, "I've got this spare fork here, will this work?" reaching into his pack, the hobgoblin will pull a dented and bent old fork out. He waves it around in front of him a little, uncertainly.
"Good thing I don't have iron knuckles...even though that was a childhood dream..."
"Rust bugs. The Golians put us on pest control duty to prove our valor as equals and allies? *Grumble grumble grumble*..." Turgrim tries to make sure his voice isn't too loud - despite his bluster he recognizes the worth of Golians as warriors. If this is what it took, this is what it took. Hopefully the extermination wouldn't take all day. He cracks his knuckles against his palm impatiently as he follows the group to the "problem area," trying to avoid looking at anybody taller than he is.
Turgrim can't hide a smirk as he hands over his petty weapons, primarily useful for bypassing damage reduction. I still feel plenty armed and dangerous if something goes down, the hobgoblin monk thinks to himself.
Turgrim only narrows his eyes at Tigerwolf's comment to him. I won't forget what you are, half-breed, even if the others do, he thinks to himself, but he keeps his outward expression stony.
Turgrim is pretty easy to read.
Good to be back!
Turgrim smiles at the kobold's question. "What the half-breed said is true. The honey-tongued humans would ally with the Dark One himself if it meant they could conquer a few more acres of our lands. They spread and breed like locusts, and the best way to stomp out a lot of locusts at once..." the hobgoblin gestures at some of the giants that accompanied them; particularly, their enormous feet.
ohmygodI'msotired
I'm here, I'm sorry, I'm really overwhelmed at work (still behind at this very moment,) and when I get home I have a newborn to look after plus I'm still exhausted from my work day. Generally when I get home I've been napping/trying to sleep in between feedings and changings of my baby boy. Posting in all my campaigns - I want to get on top of things again, hopefully this Memorial Day weekend will let me do that.
Turgrim grins and crosses his arms as he gazes down at the white-scaled creature, raising one eyebrow. "Kobalds make terrible slaves anyway. Too tricksy and resentful. I agree with Karol, set him free."
Turgrim smiles down at the kobold. "He's got a mouth on him, for one so tiny. I respect that."
Turgrim shakes the bloody ear a bit, spraying Golian blood on the floor. "Spotless...heh..."
Turgrim finds the sun broach, and with a rare display of attention to appearances, pins it to his traveling garb.
Turgrim draws a blade and slides it alongside the underneath of one of the fallen Golian's ears, slicing it cleanly off. Squeezing the severed ear to get rid of any lingering blood, the hobgoblin pockets it with a small smile.
Turgrim should be fast enough to move up and around Greez to flank Thug B. If the thug is still standing after Runt's ferocious attacks, he will punch him in the back of the head, attempting to finish him off.
Turgrim rolls with the knockdown and attempts to tumble away (south, at maximum double move speed) from the huge giant, cursing his diminutive size under his breath.
Turgrim rubs his hands together and shakes his arms loose before gripping the bars of the boltlock and tugging as hard as he can.
But they won't budge.
Turgrim looks down at his tiny body impatiently, beating his fist against his body again and again as he moves. "Why won't I get bigger?!" he mutters to himself.
Turgrim will move around to the backs of the thugs trying to scramble into the door, down and to the right on the map. He will wait to grow back to his full size before engaging - even though he's still only Medium, it's preferable to the size he's at right now! With haste in effect, it should be trivial for the monk to reach another hiding spot quietly.
Turgrim steps a few feet away from the soon-to-be-giants, and boldly pounds his chest with his fist a few times, in as violent a way as possible.
Turgrim licks his lips and murmurs as quietly as he can that there are dead-stop locks on the door. "They'd have do be moved before the door could be open," he whispers, mangling some of his words to avoid the sibilant and fricative consonants.
Turgrim's ear burns with pain from the "gentle" flick of Mak, but he doesn't show his discomfort, only nods in acknowledgment. His bruised ears remain perked as they listen for Tigerwolf's distraction, getting himself into position and tensing for movement.
Turgrim points it out to Tigerwolf wordlessly, in case she hasn't seen it yet, then makes a mockingly polite "after you" gesture with one arm.
Moving more slowly, Turgrim follows after her, keeping the card players in his sights at all times.
First, Turgrim looks to his left as he enters, noting that long, deep crack. Is it possible to see down that direction? Turgrim presses his beady eye to the crack, peering down it for a moment before he moves on. When he reaches the end of the row of crates, he turns to Tigerwolf and puts a finger to his lips. Shhhhh. Moving quietly, he peers around the corner.
Turgrim will lead the way, putting his face to the small hole and peeking inside. Seeing nothing, he squirms his body in there.
Turgrim steps closer, his arms held loosely out at his sides in readied position.
"I'll follow the half-breed," Turgrim comments, gesturing at Tigerwolf with a nod of his head. "I should be there to keep her out of trouble." he smirks.
Turgrim crosses his arms and looks up at the huge doors, glad that he's among larger company.
Turgrim resists rolling his eyes. "Oh, this'll be good," he mutters under his breath.
Turgrim stares up at the towering chairs, glancing over at Mak. In response to the tall Golian's offer for a "boost," Turgrim gives a single nod of acceptance, hating that it was necessary.
It takes all of Turgrim's willpower to remain silent. His teeth are exposed in a silent growl for a moment, then he turns his face away, so as not to ruin the diplomatic efforts of the others.
Turgrim just lets out an indignant huff as the giants' manhandling of his person finally stops. "Good to see we've got...big friends on the inside," the hobgoblin mutters to Mogwag under his breath.
Turgrim is occupied with batting away the grabby giant hands, like an irritated housecat.
Turgrim tries to shove onlookers out of the way, but only manages to make himself look ridiculous. These giants would not respect his authoritah.
"Hey! Hands off!" Turgrim's brusque voice defies his diminutive size in comparison to the giants. He strides up purposefully to where Mogwag is, ready to bust some heads if he needs to.
"These Golians seem pretty...comfortable," Turgrim comments, observing the finely made clothing many of the giants around here seem to be wearing. In comparison to them, the hobgoblin feels shabby.
"I guess blood counts for something among these folk after all," Turgrim mutters to himself, glancing up at the giants before returning his sulky gaze to the road ahead. He didn't like the threat of his bones being ground up, but he decides not to comment. He picks up his weapons carefully from where he dropped them on the ground as a sign of peace, and stoically re-equips them before following Greez and Tigerwolf inside.
My apartment flooded at 2 AM this morning...I'm beyond overwhelmed right now :'( Please don't expect anything of me today and possibly tomorrow. I will get back up to speed ASAP.
Turgrim is pretty sure he shouldn't be the one doing the talking. Still, he steps forward, exposing his weapons and dropping them on the ground. "We come in peace!" he shouts up at the giants. "We wish to talk."
Turgrim only smiles a feral grin. "Hope these negotiations go well..." he says, chuckling a little.
Turgrim nods assent to Greez. "We meet them head-on. Show them no fear. We're official emissaries, not spies. And if they want to mess with us..." he grins. "Well, I hope they do."
Despite himself, Turgrim grins a little at his battle-brother, before scowling again.
"I'm not riding in any giant's pack," Turgrim mutters. "Odak can provide cover by simply walking alongside us - he's big enough. I won't be somebody's luggage." |