Percival was hiding. That was nothing new. He had barely skidded to a stop at the kobolds feet before more action began to swirl around him; the action of a large gathering of people, some official and some not. There should not be this much action in his life. He ate, slept, drank, and stole. Occasionally he would piss and shit and when he was feeling in the mood he would fight. That was it. Today there had been entirely not enough beer, sleep, food, or shiny things to steal. And entirely too much chaos and being scooped up by ancient goat police zeppelins. So he did the only logical thing in his mind. He hid.

He was hiding behind a chair. Of course the chair was not the best hiding place so he looked quite ridiculous crouching there. No one seemed to pay him any mind however, and soon goats, spell-born, and a few other oddballs began gathering in the room. A very officious goat began to speak as soon as the place was full up with bodies. Percival paid no attention. Goats rarely had anything important to say. Ever. But they did have shiny things.

In fact he was zoned out trying to plan where he would find his next beer, he doubted he could find any here, when he caught words about the credits. Money was good. It could buy shiny things. Buying shiny things was against his principles in general but when you legally bought one thing you could steal several more and the owners were less likely to pay you any mind. Plus if he could claim to have lots of money, and somehow make it look true, the girls would be all over him. For the second time this day his thoughts drifted to goblin orgies. Just as quickly they snapped back when he realized he would have to share the credits with all these people. He wondered how many would agree to do this, he hoped very few. While goblins might be stupid in general, and often too lazy to be bothered with being smart, they did know money. Or rather Percival did. And one quarter of the money up front was 2.5 million credits. He would wait to see how many agreed to this hair brained stupid scheme of the GOOP commander but if it wasn’t many he would take the credits and run. And if it was many…well he would figure that out when the time came. Adventures were terribly inconvenient things, but if they found the goblin king maybe he would give them shiny things. He had lots and lots and lots of shiny things. So maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

“Here Here” piped Percival from his hiding place behind a chair. “Save the world. Adventure. For the safety of puppies and all that.”

Shor looked sideways at the goat commander. "A job?" He'd done lots of jobs in his lifetime, but never a payed one. However, he'd seen Ancient Goats and many other races perform such jobs, meaning it wasn't slavery, as far as he could tell. Furthermore, people who did payed jobs usually weren't abused. Up until now he'd mostly payed the bills by challenging people to fights, and, if they died, eating them. While most races would be disgusted by this kind of thing, he was used to eating those who died, as all else would be a waste of food, and found it only logical to eat anyone who wasn't using their body anymore. However, it would certainly be nice to be able to use this money, which would supposedly have the power to make people do what he wanted. "I'll do it."

Before anyone else could respond, an explosion was heard. Zeal turned his head, shocked. "What was that?" Suddenly, the intercom came on shouting "All troops, this is a code 1947; Air pirates are attacking the port side, I repeat, Air pirates are attacking the port side. All troops report to battle stations, and prepare for battle." G.O.O.P Commander's chair started moving along a track in the floor as the wall split open, taking him to the bridge. Zeal opened the door, yelling "I've got to help! Guys lets get going!"

Dmitri ran after Zeal, concerned about what was going on. "Of course this would happen, it's just my luck!"
Truth be told, he was surprised that pirates would be so bold as to attack a ship this important looking. They weren't afraid of the military personnel that would obviously be on something like this? This might be more trouble than he had originally thought. He started running spells through the back of his mind as he hurried along, getting ready to react to whatever may show up.

Katherin had no idea what battle stations were. But she figured she could help. She followed the others. Her most if her spells weren't effective from a distance but she had couple that she could use. Katherin dug through her bag. She didn't know the spells she would need by heart so the first order of business was to find the spells.

Percival, crouched under a chair, heard the news of the attacking pirates with great glee. How perfect was this. Air Pirates!! This was simply amazing. They too would have many shiny things. But dangerous. He must remember they were dangerous and he should try not to be seen.

Mind agog with thoughts of the treasure that might be on an airpirate ship. He remained crouched in the shadow of a chair watching those gathered file out some orderly, some randomly hurrying along, until he was certain he could slip out too without drawing too much attention to himself.

Running, quick and light, along the hallways he raced towards the point of the most commotion. That would be the best place to be, he was sure of it. He would need something to help him stay hid however.

A passing rubbish bin provided inspiration, these things followed him everywhere apparently. Without stopping to think this time he dove head first into the bin. He didn’t know what he was looking for but he was sure he would recognize it when he found it. These ancient goats had the best stuff, even what they threw away had to be good. He didn’t stop to think that the rubbish bin may be headed to an incinerator, a rubbish chute into open air, a trash compacter, or any manner of other detrimental things. He was too busy finding good stuff. Fourteen ball bearings, three tiny gears, a metal rod, a shiny length of copper wire, a small sheet of beaten steel, and a few other metallic odds and ends. He wasn't sure what use they would be but they had to be some use.

It had taken him several minutes and when he poked his head back out the top of the rubbish bin he was in a deserted hallway, the rubbish bin rolling along at a clip speed, and he had no idea where he was, where the fight was, or where he was going. He tumbled out and uncermoniously dropped to the ground before he took off trotting in the same dirction as the rubbish bin was heading. It never occoured to him that he might need to backtrack.

Shor could hear the banging of weaponry, firearms both firing and backfiring, useless pieces of trash forged by fools with no idea how to work metal. However, Shor soon let such thoughts leave his mind. He wasn't one for thinking, much, never had been, as was a staple of his race. However, he was most definitely one for fighting, and even as he strode down the hallway, he could feel almost giddy excitement. Shor had a lot of stress, living in a world where everyone he met was smarter than him, trying to fight for a goal with only the vaguest ideas of how to achieve it. He needed to blow off some steam.

As he walked out into the open air, a wild goblin wielding a scimitar jumped at him, only for it's head to be caught in one of Shor's massive hands. With a strange happiness, Shor threw the small green man overboard, flailing all the way down. He wasn't glad at the death he saw, indeed, he respected all life. However, he was at least glad to be in his element, doing something simple that he could easily understand. He took a hold of his hammer and began swinging it from side to side, mowing through the lines of battle, wiping out anything that wasn't a goat. With the hammer's massive weight, the velocity of each strike crushed even armored targets, punching through steel as if it were cardboard, smashing rib cages and skulls, as Shor walked, a mountain of muscle and death.