[Game Thread] We Be Licktoads - You Be Food!

[Alesch]

Old One-Eye shambles out of the hut. Then he makes his way to find some of the older Licktoads, respectable goblins who would agree with him when he complained about the loud merrymaking of the younger generation. Oh, how One-Eye intended to complain.

[Ange]

The goblins amuse themselves for a couple of hours as the sun sets, far too mighty to assist in the menial tasks involved in setting up a bonfire. Eventually the purples give way to blues and blacks, and a half-moon rises in the sky, accompanied by many specks of bright, twinkling light.

When the bonfire is ready for lighting, four struggling goblins emerge from Chief Gutwad's hut carrying the Teeter Chair (with the Chief sitting atop it) on their shoulders. By the looks of things, it's a wonder their legs haven't given out already—the fear of Chief Gutwad's wrath should they fail seems to give them preternatural strength. The rest of the tribe lingers around close by, their excitement palpable.

Once the Teeter Chair is placed in position just in front of the bonfire, the Chief withdraws a foot-long, thin wooden tube painted with numerous colours. The goblins let out a muted cheer; that's a firework! Gutwad lights the end of the fuse with a spark from a flint and steel before pointing it at the pile of sticks and wood with a manic grin. The firework shoots four times, each with a satisfyingly loud bang and blindingly bright flash of light, directly into the bonfire. The fire roars high as the goblins shriek in glee, running about, dancing, daring each other to do stupid things, ravishing the food tables and generally causing havoc about their village.

The Chief summons Slorb to his side and whispers in his advisor's ear. Slorb then orders a few nearby goblins to go fetch a large barrel of fermenting apple cider, which is placed next to the food tables, covered with goblin culinary delights: snails, fish, and snakes. Those goblins who head for the apple cider look a little worse for the wear shortly after, a few holding their bellies and throwing up, though plenty simply just teeter and wobble around on their feet, hiccupping.

Word seems to have gotten around the tribe that the five of you have been sent on a special quest, and from time to time you catch some goblins staring at you and whispering to their neighbours, occasionally while snickering. "I don't reckon theys can do it!" "Them? Why not me? I better than him! I tells you!" "Hee hee hee, I bets they gonna wind up squishies."

[Jesse]

Irnk returns to his hut to retrieve his patchwork armor, composed mostly of bits of driftwood and tangled cloth with a fair amount of doodads, and his bow. Before he joined the others around the bonfire he crept just outside of the village to a small hollowed out tree trunk. Irnk cautiously approaches making sure that no one had followed him. This was his special "hiding hole" as he fondly named it. He kept all sorts of random bits and pieces that he had accumulated over his many years in this secret hole. Diving in head first Irnk would surely be a sight to behold. His huge head and little arms squirming deeper into the base of the trunk and his scrawny stumps most considered his legs flailing back and forth in the air. He retrieves many items including his shiny moo-ding (bell), his dot rocks (dice), and his screecher (whistle). Finally, after much scrounging he retrieves the last and most important item his stabby (signet) ring. Having retrieved all his special items Irnk maneuvers his legs into an awkward position. Placing each leg up on the tree stump he pushes with all of his strength. A popping sound later and Irnk is free from the clutches of his hiding hole. "You never beats me." Irnk mutters under his breath. Fully equipped Irnk joins the village at the fire.

[NEON725]

Goboom was inches- no, moments away from yanking the firework out of the chief's hand, but decided at the last minute that maybe he would get his head chopped off. If he was going to die, he wanted to become a firework. Beheading just wouldn't do at all.

Other than that, he seemed to be in a reasonably calm mood for a goblin. Most of his merriment was spent lighting things on fire - other goblins, for instance. After being promptly kicked by a dozen other goblins, he took out his pyromania on the bonfire instead. Only problem was that it was already lit. Unlike that pile of leaves under the chief's chair...

[Ange]

As Irnk joins the fire, a couple of goblins he knows--mates, perhaps, or simply sparring partners--notice him, and rush over, snickering and pestering one another.

"So's we heards you're going off on a quest!" one goblin named Rotweed says, chewing on the tail of a snake and spitting profusely with every word he says.

"You? Can't believeeeeee it!" another chortles, this one a goblin girl called Rikta. She was one of the more popular girls because of her particularly grotesque boils on her especially protruding nose. "No ways! You'll get eaten."

"Eaten! *hic* Eaten! Hehehehhe." The third, a tall and wiry gobbo named Dimik, sways to and fro, barely able to stay on his feet. He holds a tankard half-full with the apple cider, and it sloshes about and sprays on your feet as he struggles to stay lucid. "Youuuuus a fails. You can'ts *hic* even *hic* beat mes in... innnnnnn... wossits."

"Wossits?" Rikta asks.

"Rusty Wotchamacallits... rusty, rust. Bite." Dimik attempts to articulate and fails quite profusely.

"Oh!" Rotweed manages to make a synapse connection. "Rusty Earbiter! Yeah! Yous can't even do that. I bet you. I dares you!"

A couple of other goblins nearby cheer at the mention of the Rusty Earbiter, a few others gathering with boos and cheers and hoots and chants for Irnk to go and try it out. You know what the Rusty Earbiter is... it's an infamous hollow coil of rusty wires, barrel hoops, bent swords, and thorny branches and vines, so named for the fact it's claimed a number of goblin ears in the past. It's both an object of fascination and fear for the Licktoads. The half-insane tinkerer who invented the thing has long since died (carried off one night by a giant bird of some sort after his first and only test of a prototype bird-attracting hat), but his legacy lives on.

"Dare you! Dare you! Climb through! Climb through!" the cries fly into the night sky. A half-dozen goblins make motions to hurry off towards the Moot House where the Rusty Earbiter is kept to drag it out. Are you game?



Goboom, on the other hand, is much less noticed, seeing as most goblins try their best to keep out of the way of Chief Gutwad for the most part. When he starts to play with the leaves below the Chief's chair, though...

"WHAT THE HELL YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?!?!" screams Slorb, rushing over to club Goboom over the head--missing only because he half-slipped on the pile of leaves that were currently smouldering hot. He flips onto his back with a loud string of words that are not fit for reproduction here.

This catches the attention of a number of other goblins, who stop what they're doing and point and laugh at the sight. Not many goblins like Slorb much, and besides, there's a lot of fun to be had in pointing and laughing at anyone who just tripped over.

Meanwhile, the leaves continue to smoke away...

[Jesse]

"You's dare me? You's dare me?" Irnk asks incredulously. "I's never seens Dumb-ik do's one dare bestest." Irnk exclaims to the gathered goblins. "I's never back downs from dare. I be the bestest dare-doer, ever! Goes and gets the rusty biters and I's shows you who's bestest." Irnk says as he puts on his biggest most maniacal grin completely forgetting the other insults. A dare was issued and he was determined to win. Even if he didn't physically win he knew he'd be pronounced winner after Dimik lay face down with a dagger in his back. Few challenged those still alive after a dare.

[Alesch]

Old One-Eye Gub narrows his eye in disapproval. Not at anything, or anyone, in particular, but at the very notion of the Licktoad celebration. The younger goblins were making merry, arguing over which of them was the greatest of the Licktoad goblins. Of course, they all believed themselves to be the paragon of Licktoad virtue, but One-Eye Gub knew the truth. None of these young goblins were even half the goblin that he had been in his prime. Hell, none of them were half the goblin that Pimble had been, and he'd been the most useless goblin that Gub had ever known.

Old One-Eye snatches a mug of cider from a young goblin as he limps along the outskirts of the celebration. "Stupid younglings," he mutters angrily under his breath, "wouldn't know a proper party if it kicked 'em in the teeth. An' they're still so dagnabbin' loud!"

[Ange]

When Irnk accepts the dare, the crowd erupts in a cheer of vicious delight. Soon, the half-dozen eager goblins who had already barrelled off emerge rolling the dangerous, 20-foot-long coil of pain out from behind the Moot House, complete with the typical number of slashed fingers and stabbed legs such a task normally brings. The Rusty Earbiter, so named for the number of goblin ears it's claimed in the past (currently you can see two partially severed ears tangled in its sharp internal coils), is rolled right in front of you.

"Go! Go! Climb! Climb!" "Faster, faster!" "Better go swim in Squealy Nord's mud pit first! You gonna get sliced up!"

OOC Irnk, your dare is to crawl through a coil that looks something like this: ...except that it's a lot rustier and has a lot of thorns and swords and other spiky things sticking through it at arbitrary points. It's 20-feet long. To complete the dare, you've got to climb through the Rusty Earbiter. You'll need to make a series of Escape Artist checks to writhe through the tight squeezes without getting your ears chopped off. I think the easiest way to do this (if you'd like to proceed... if you don't, the goblins are going to start mocking you furiously) would be to roll 3 Escape Artist checks, and if I need anything more from you afterwards, I'll ask.

One-Eye snatches the apple cider and sniffs it. It smells, to be frank, of fresh piss; just as most goblins like it. The cider has been fermenting for a little too long, in not too sanitary conditions, and is likely to get you sick and off your face in no time if you drink some.

OOC If you drink the apple cider, you're going to get drunk VERY quickly (not necessarily a bad thing) and I'd like you to make a Fortitude save.

[LupusRegalis]

Still in a cackling good humor, Nazt kicks his way to the food table and claims a spot for himself and Pugh. Tired of standing, Nazt hops up onto the table, and plumps himself down cross-legged. He randomly tosses bits of food to the expectant Pugh, knowing if he doesn't they'd be fighting, again. And for the moment at least, he'd rather be eating.

In fact, he's rather enjoying himself, amused by the antics taking place around him. He grabs up a tankard of cider as it passes (and too bad if that was yours, you slimy mud-wort!) and leans back to watch. Over by Chief Gutwad, Goboom was making a fool of Slorb, raising Nazt's appraisal of the goblin up a few notches. If the Chief doesn't bury him, anyways. Not far away, the rusty earbiter was being pulled out, putting a malicious grin on Nazt's maw. He could see Irnk gearing up for that dare, and decides to make a small wager on Irnk's run.

"bets, bets! who takes bets?!" Nazt jumps up and shouts, spilling cider on the goblins around him in his excitement. "bet he only lose one ear! bag of marbles says one ear!" He shouts his call for bets a few more times, then swallows a huge gulp of cider to wet his whistle. His face turns a little greener, and clinches as he struggles to hold the alcohol down. At some point he manages to catch a breath, and wobbles unsteadily on his feet, still standing atop the food laden table.

[NEON725]

At the sight (and smell) of Slorb coming close, Goboom immediately dropped his wooden fire-starting implements and went to the opposite side of the fire. No need to stick around and get one's own head chopped off after all. That's what Irnk was about to get! He sat down near by and proceeded to watch the carnage.

[Jesse]

Irnk positively bounces at the hooping and hollering of the other goblins. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea . . . but alas little is when it comes to goblins.

Ouch . . .

[Batfan Brett]

Arriving fashionably late to the party, Shake-Spear contemplates the scene before him. Many goblins holler and hoot at the luckless Irnk as he struggles to make it through Rusty Earbiter with his honour and ears (not to mention other important parts that dangle) intact.
Smelling smoke he looks around to see a fire slowly coming to life beneath Gutwad’s Teeter Chair. Seizing his chance to create trouble for the lickspittle Slorb, Shake-Spear points to the smoke under the teeter chair and cries:
“Slorb ! Why you setting fire to leaves ?”

[Ange]

Nazt very quickly feels the warm feeling of the cider spread through his entire body, making his fingertips tingly and his face flushed with red. He feels like he could do anything, and that's saying something, because few goblins ever consider the fact they may not be able to do something (case in point: Irnk over there getting his skin shredded to pieces by the Rusty Earbiter). Somehow, he manages to keep the booze down though, enough that a couple of goblins take him up on the gambling game. "I bets a bottle of fire that he loses both!" "Two gold shinies for no ears gone!"

Over at the Rusty Earbiter, the goblins are cheering and hooting loudly as Irnk manages to wriggle his way through one third of the maze before finding his rather large head can’t fit through the next section very easily. Try as he might, there's just no way he can fit through without being cut up. So he does the only thing a goblin can do: force his way through as fast as he can. A rusty dogslicer cuts a shred out of his cheek, spraying the immediate area with blood. The closest spectators even get a few drops on them, which, of course, makes them dance and cheer even louder. The speed at which Irnk is going, though, is making some of the spectators kind of bored... "Go faster! Faster faster!" "Booooo! Stinky Irnk can't do it!"

OOC You take 2 damage from the wires. You'll need to make two more DC 15 Escape Artist checks to get out the other end... but every time you fail you may take more damage. And soon the onlooking goblins might start to get bored...

Slorb looks aghast at Shake-Spear's suggestion that he would do anything of the sort, but a few nearby goblins guffaw profusely. "Slorb wants take Chief Gutwad's spot!" they leer, as the advisor finally notices the smoking leaves and stamps at them until the fire goes out. "I want no such thing!" he shrieks, but shoots a nervous look at the Chief, lazing back in his throne with a large mug of apple cider in one hand and a platter of delicacies in the other. Gutwad hiccups, apparently too consumed by watching a rather scantily dressed pair of female goblins dance across the other side of the bonfire to him to really give a damn what Slorb was up to.

The advisor glares at Shake-Spear, before 'innocently' calling out to the goblins around him. "Who's up for a game of Hide or Get Clubbed?" Needless to say, many of them are. Slorb looks pointedly at Shake-Spear. "Shake-Spear here said he wants to be the hider! Didn't you? You better get going, we'll be after you in a count of 20!" A couple of nearby goblins fish out sticks and clubs from around the camp, grinning maliciously. Whether you go hide or not, it looks like you may not have much of a choice in the latter part of the game...

"Who else wants to go hiding?!" the cry goes up from Slorb, looking at the other 'heroes'. "Surely none of us could ever hope to find you lot!"

OOC Hide or Get Clubbed is, as you may imagine, the goblin version of hide and seek. You run off into the swamps and hide, and the other goblins go searching for you. If they find you, they whack you over the head with a giant club. If they don't find you, you win! If you'd like to play... and the goblins really, really want you to play... please roll me a Stealth check and go out into the swamps and hide somewhere.

[NEON725]

"That's not how you play!" Goboom yelled from across the fire. "If we finds them, they go boom!" he said, and holds up a suspiciously-shaped glass bottle. It seems he intends to be the finder.

[Alesch]

Old One-Eye is not happy about Slorb's insinuation that anyone should even consider striking him with a club. The elder goblin couldn't have cared less about the beating that was coming Shake-Spear's way, but sending the idiot younglings after Gub? That was unacceptable. The old goblin tossed his purloined mug of cider aside, untouched. There were only two ways out of this, that Gub could see, the old goblin could either run out into the swamp and evade the foolish goblins who came after him, or...

"I don't want to play Hide or Get Clubbed," Old One-Eye says as he limps his way over to Slorb, "that's a children's game. It's fine for Shake-Spear and the other younglings, but Old Gub doesn't play children's games anymore". The old goblin narrows his remaining eye at the Licktoad advisor. "If you want to play a game with me, though, I know a good one". The crotchety old goblin levels the flared end of his magical staff at Slorb's face. "It's called 'Find Slorb's Teeth', do you want to play?"

OOC Intimidate roll