Astarael42

Of Goats, Goblins, and Mages

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.

Rites of Passage

out for the work weekend again. be back wednesday. I'll keep up via my phone if ya'll wanna react before I get back.

Rites of Passage

***Group A***

The whinny of the horse woke Brisa from her sleep. She had been so warm and comfortable that waking was quite miserable. Blearily she looked around and realized that none of the others had heard it. She assumed then that she had imagined it but the whinny came again, along with a yelp that sounded like someone kicking a dog.

Up, covers thrown to the side, Brisa raced to the window and was about to throw open the wood slatted shutters. A moment’s hesitation made her think; what if what was outside was not friendly. They weren’t among the moors any longer but nasty things could still wander the night. So instead she peaked through a knothole in the wood.

What she saw terrified her. Two huge creatures, not human but walking like humans and wielding weapons, were attacking the war horse. They looked like dogs but were not. They looked like humans but were not. It was terrifying for the young girl but when the horse spun on his hind hooves and caught one of the creatures square in the chest with his fore-hoof she realized that it was very real. She thought she could even smell the blood. She had never seen a fight, not like this, and it was so surreal in the moonlight that for a few crucial moments she stood mesmerized by the tableau going on outside. She never saw the third of the dog-like-creatures lift a nose, sniff the air, and point towards the building she was hiding in. Nor did she see the humans slinking through the darkness towards her.

Only when the door slammed open with a noise that would startle the dead did she realize that she and the others were trapped. Patchy moonlight silhouetted the men in the doorway, 5 of them holding weapons but the play of shadows and light rendered them too indistinct to notice.

Brisa screamed belatedly and looked wildly for an escape. The raiders hadn’t spoken but it was plain they were not intent on helping the children. Indeed as that thought crossed her mind she heard them burst out laughing and making crude disgusting comments to one another about taking the children slaves, and much much worse. Brisa realized the men blocked the only exit from the building. They would have to get past them somehow, or climb out the windows which would dump them in the battle of horse and gnolls. Frying pan and fire. But which was which…

***

The gnolls, three of them, circled and feinted at the war horse. A lesser animal would have been dead in minutes, if not seconds, but not the knights great animal. Instead it kept eyes on all three, using hooves and teeth to keep the creatures at bay. Finally with a triumphant whinny it spun gracefully, in a move so quick even the gnolls couldn’t follow him. It’s rear legs kicked back and caught one of the gnolls sending him flying end over end into a stone wall, a sickening crunching thump filled the air when the gnoll hit. It slid down the wall and lay still and the warhorse, uncertain of the odds and lacking its true master to guide it, took to flight down the road, instinct guiding it towards the only home it knew, Waterdeep many days away. It’s hooves thundered in the distance and the two remaining gnolls let it go as they nursed their own wounds. One had broken shoulder, another multiple cracked ribs and a nasty bite on its fore-arm. A knights mount was a truly formidable adversary. Instead they turned to help the bandits plunder the buildings wanting to seek out easier prey. They stalked, pacing like restless cats, towards the building where the children were cornered.

Of Goats, Goblins, and Mages

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.”

Of Goats, Goblins, and Mages

When Percival finally shook off the confusion his roll had caused he realized he was looking up at a kobold. And not the one had had run into earlier, this was an entirely different kobold. He was surprised he hadn’t knocked the creature over, he had used that rolling maneuver for attack as well as defense and it had bowled over more than one unprepared person.

He got to his feet, albeit shakily, and looked the creature over. Then he looked around at the nice sparkling clean room. No wonder he had slid so nicely along the floor, it was clean. Was being the operative word. He left a nice streak of dirt and a bit of soot behind him when he had rolled.

“Er, um, sorry about that” said Percival. “Odd that there’s all that dirt there…why did you clean the whole thing except that one great streak of dirt from the door to your feet here? That’s very weird.”

Percival never had any concept that he was often coated in a nice layer of grime. After all he had never taken a bath in his life, just accidental dunkings when people poured buckets of water on him for no reason that he was ever able to discern. People were weird.

Of Goats, Goblins, and Mages

well if If nothing else happens before I get a chance to post tomorrow I will do so. I'm in a superhero posting mood tonight, and that Percival is most definately not.

Of Goats, Goblins, and Mages

I'd be happy to if you want the as yet unnamed feet to belong to Crak...it will have messed up his nice clean floor though. :-)

Of Goats, Goblins, and Mages

Indeed I was out of town for work. I had intended Percival to join Crak and Rita however I didn't want to interrupt any plans so i just left it open for whomever.

by the by whoever it was that said they were enjoying 2nd ed-- I'm glad I am not the only one out there. :-)

Rites of Passage

posted on behalf of Serra

Serra stilled and watched Aiden trying to mimic his movements and his actions. In a proper town she would have been past them without them ever noticing her, she was good at sneaking around amongst people. Here in the forest she was completely at a loss and had turned over all leadership to Aiden without qualms. He knew what he was doing. Or so she assumed.

His plan, when he laid it out, sounded completely insane to her. How could two young kids handle three grown men. She would have snuck around them if she could have, gone on her way without the bandits being the wiser for her presence. Or she would have tried to. Still she trusted Aiden, she didn’t even know why, just that he seemed to inspire trust from her. Maybe it was as simple as he wasn’t one of the gang, but even those not in the gang beat her, kicked her, whatever whenever they caught sight of her.

She nodded when he asked about the knife and drew it out. She didn’t want to give it to him, she knew the value of a knife and this one for all that it was weirdly made was at least quality and still sharp. Deep in her street rat instincts there was the call never to give up a weapon. They were worth more than their weight in silver.

Her reluctance was plain in her eyes as she handed the blade to Aiden. She hadn’t realized that what he meant by “take him down” would be killing the bandit. If she had she wouldn’t have given it to him. She wasn’t a murderer, just a thief, and she was proud of that fact. Lots in the gang had crossed that line just in squabbles with rival gang members. But she didn’t realize Aiden’s intentions, and from what she could tell of Aiden’s plan she didn’t have to really do anything but hide so she nodded solemnly.

“Ok” she said softly.

Of Goats, Goblins, and Mages

Percival was floored by the size of the zeppelin, hell he had been floored by the size of the G.O.A.T. He had seen them, a scant few, but always up in the air, never so close up. He felt a bit awed. Particularly since there were so many shiny things.

He joined the platform with the others, curiosity driving him though there was a fear in his gut too. After all this was completely new and while one goat might be interesting a whole army of goats was a bit more terrifying. Thus he once again was searching for a place to hide.

A passing rubbish bin looked promising. It was passing him…mounted on strange little legs that were kept in motion by a bunch of gears. Percival was just about to leap in when a rare thing happened. He thought ahead. It was such an unusual occurrence for the goblin that it was nearly as frightening as being on a giant goat filled police zeppelin.

In fact it was the nervousness that Percival felt that made him do the unthinkable, and actually think. So startled was he by this nearly unheard of action on his part that he stopped dead in his tracks for nearly 5 minutes, long enough to go unnoticed as everyone else tramped by him leaving him alone staring at nothing.

When he came out of his startled zombie state he looked around and realized it was empty here. That was nearly as nerve wracking as being marched ominously along down a corridor. Everyone knew if you were marched with guards down a corridor your end was right around the next bend. He never realized standing alone in such a corridor was just as bad.

“Wait for me” he yelled at the top of his rather raspy goblin voice and he began to run flat out. He didn’t know where he was running only that he was looking for others. Dashing like a mad thing around a bend he didn’t see another robotic rubbish bend working its way down a perpendicular corridor. Rubbish bin and Percival collided with a tremendous crash that sent Percival toppling end over end. He barely had time to tuck himself into a ball like a pill bug and roll down the corridor, protecting himself from most of the bruising he would have otherwise received.

He rolled, and rolled, and rolled. He was surprisingly aerodynamic as he rolled along and friction didn’t get much of a chance to slow him. He could have unrolled his body and would have come to a stop easily, but the jostling shook the few wits he had gathered to the four winds and he was completely bamboozled. He rolled to a stop thunking neatly, and somewhat harshly, into a pair of non-moving feet. Percival looked up blearily unable to focus on who or what he had run into.

“Urrrmmm, uh, sorry” he mumbled trying to gather enough of his scattered wits to remember the few polite manners he had picked up in his rambling travels.