We be Goblins [Game Thread]
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Exotic Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Rassehlum on 18-02-2014, 06:34:34</h2>
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				Title: <strong>We be Goblins [Game Thread]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rassehlum</strong> on <strong>18-02-2014, 06:34:34</strong>
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				<div class="floatright"> </div><div class="floatright">(http://cf.geekdo-images.com/images/pic1872711_md.jpg)</div>You are goblins of the Licktoad tribe, who live deep in Brinestump Marsh, south of the hated man-town called Sandpoint. Once, other goblins tried to burn Sandpoint down, and they would have been legends if they had succeeded. But they didn't bring enough fire, and got themselves killed as a result. Yesterday, your tribe discovered that one of your own had been using forbidden arts and was engaged in one of the greatest of taboos—writing things down. In fact, rumor holds that what he was writing was a history of your tribe! There’s no swifter way to bring about bad luck than stealing words out of your mind by writing them down, and so your tribe had no choice. You branded the goblin’s face with letters to punish him, which is why everyone calls him Scribbleface now, and then you ran him out of town, took all of his stuff, and burned down his hut.<br><br>That’s where things got interesting, because before you all burned down his hut, Chief Gutwad found a weird box within the building. Inside was a map and a lot of fireworks—fireworks that immediately came to use in burning the hut down. Then, this morning, Gutwad announced that tonight there would be a feast in order to drive out any lingering bad luck from Scribbleface’s poor decisions. But perhaps even more exciting, all of you have been secretly invited to meet at Chief Gutwad’s Moot House. Why would the chief want to speak to you? It can only mean that he’s got an important mission for you all... one that the other goblins of the tribe couldn’t pull off. This could be your chance to go down in Licktoad history!<br><br>The entire village is buzzing with excitement. Loud crashing noises arise from behind a pile of rotten barrels, where goblin children are thrashing around in their cages. The song of the Licktoad tribe is repeated constantly throughout the day. Other members of the tribe have been approaching you with increased frequency as the rumors that you've been selected for a special meeting with the secretive Chief Gutwad circulate more widely. Some of them give you each praise and small gifts, like jars of goblin pickles. Others just stop short of issuing a challenge, jealousy nearly taking control of their actions. When you are each ready, you can head to Chief Gutwad's Moot House. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: We be Goblins [Game Thread]</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>20-02-2014, 05:45:58</strong>
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				Bug Bigbelly awoke late deep within his hut to the sounds of celebration in the village. 'Hut' was perhaps an overly strong term for Bug's dwelling, which comprised three quarters of a rotten log half submerged in the Brinestump Marsh. The other quarter of the log was the rightful property of a loathsome yet charming giant leech, who had won the rights to the lodging fair and square in a wrestling match some six months ago. Bug often brought the leech, who preferred to remain nameless, offerings of food. He had not yet decided whether the lovely creature was divine or not, but didn't want to take any chances. Bug was content to live in proximity to this manifestation of the supernatural, sharing his own cramped three-quarters with Mabel: divine conduit, faithful steed, cold-blooded killer and remarkably ineffective bed-warmer. Mabel, it should be noted, had her own opinions on the subject which she had never voiced save through the manifest reality that Bug still lived.<br><br>Bug poked his head out of a fungus-ringed hole in the log to smell the news. He was immediately hit in the face by three sloppy wet balls of dung. His attackers had been waiting for over an hour to enact this weekly ritual. Bug had forgotten that it was Dungs-day. Gamely he wiped the crap off of his face and waved at their retreating backs. Yet Bug was proud despite his lowly state, for today he had an Appointment With Destiny. Today he would set foot upon the Path of Heroes. Today, yes today, he would finally receive the Respect he Deserved. He had received a Special Invitation from the Chief, and those didn't just get handed out to anyone, no sir. Quickly he gathered his treasured possessions, emptying several shelves of assorted slimy creatures and supporting habitats into his backpack. He didn't know when he would be back, after all, and there was no sense in letting so many worms go to waste.<br><br>"Move your arse, Mabel!" he cried. The giant toad opened one huge eyelid, looked Bug over, and then lowered the eyelid again in what Bug had come to learn was the opening salvo in a battle that could easily last an hour. She outweighed him by several stone and was almost immune to his most damaging kicks. Today, though, he would not be thwarted. He emptied a jar of nightcrawlers directly in front of the toad who was still feigning sleep. Such a treat would break the resolve of the most stalwart amphibian, and Mabel was not such a beast. She greedily dug into the wriggling mass and after eating her fill condescended to have her saddle buckled on. Soon the two constant companions were heading into the village at a jaunty hop, Bug having carefully roped his doughy body to the saddle with his second best length of fraying cord.<br>&nbsp;
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