Ongoing Games (In-Character)Play-by-post games are going on in this forum as we speak (well, read). All threads on this board are actual games, so please, only post on a thread if you are a player of that game.
Like Squeeb, Khuraargh was doing quite well in the beginning, but perhaps some goblin lit a firecracker startling Squealy Norb into a panic as the piglet ran around the mud more wild. It was too much for even Khuraargh as at the end he would find his hold compromised as was flung off towards the ground. <Make a Reflex save>
Hands and feet that were meant for grasping tree-branches and vines and squeezing necks slip off their hold on the squealing, thrashing piglet. The scarred goblin gasps as he flies through the air and tries to right himself...
Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
A deep breath and he nods starting for the tube of pointy things. He stops before entering, greasing up his head with mud. He also produces a small strap of leather from a pocket, whispering quietly to himself before entering
Khuraargh manages to stick the landing in the mud that would make any gymnastic coach proud without hurting himself. There is a mix of laughter and some cheer. Riding Squealy Nord is a tough challenge but its what keeps simple minded goblins coming back for more mud and laughs.
As for Skortch, he soon began to make his way through the tight stabby stabby coils. Many shouted in hopeful glee that his ear get caught.
Make three escape artist checks with an..ow..-6 penalty due to the Balloon headed trait, the mud on his head added a +2 bonus to the original minus eight
Skortch would soon find himself stuck in the first section of the course, his own head getting in his way. Goblins boo him and jeer, some even throw rocks his way that miss, but still. The pokey spikes poke against him.
<Skortch takes (3d4-6) points of damage>
Skortch may continue trying to get through for another attempt at successful three Escape Checks, or he can bail out needing one successful escape check out of three other escape checks.
Gasping and spitting mud, Khuraargh kips up to his feet. Reaching into his pockets, he takes out several cidered apples between his overlarge splayed fingers and tosses them at his tribesmates. One last he takes for himself, scrunching in deeply, then, while chewing, tosses the rest to Squealy Nord with a rasping hiss.
Khuraargh clambers up over the Nord's fence, grabs a low-hanging branch and swings over to the barrel, dunks his hat-helm in and guzzles. When he finishes, he takes another scoop, sips it until it is a comfortable level, then staggers over to Skortch. The mute goblin snaps his fingers and jerks his hand in a chugging motion.
Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
(Aw man, I wish those were his rolls for getting through the pokey obstacle course, all successes xD)
The Rusty Earbiter was a tough course, claiming many ears and refusing to wield to goblins getting through. Some goblins booed', others were bored, some ate the cider apples and found themselves a little...silly. Khuraargh should make a Fortitude save.
Skortch would find himself having little resistance as he maneuvered out of the Rusty Earbiter.
*Hmm, so future goblin heroes are... Ugh... Doing dares of sorts...?* Naknuk thought, still feeling sickened from the cider before looking at the fearsome earbiter. There was no way he could see himself getting through that unscathed, and he would much rather keep his ears. Then he looked over to Squealy Nord, thinking that he could do it, but the way he felt now... He doubted he would do very well. So he wondered what else there might be.
(OOC: Basically, since he wasn't around when the dares were issued, he doesn't know what the third one is, so yeah :P I mean, unless you'd rather me have him somehow overhear them... But that's up to DM's discretion)
"Oooh yes...Hide and get clubbed, me likey that one...I be hitter! I mean...me be seeker...yes...me be seeker.." Grinned the instigator goblin who has been having a hoot watching these 'heroes' fail. Was he butthurt jealous? Maybe.
"Hide and get clubbed? Mmm, that could be funs, my heroes hide, or get clubbed, sound good!" Chief Gutwad heartily bellowed. Anything was better than being stuck playing with his grandchildren.
Hide and get clubbed, hmm...?* Naknuk pondered, as he slightly grinned, before quickly taking off his armored coat and buckler. He then went and searched for a decent place to hide, his sickened state trying to hinder him some. He then saw some bushes and decided to silently hide in them, trying to not make too much noise and get detected.
Two move action to unequip shield and the armored coat (part of why I chose the coat for my armor :P)
Stealth check: (1d20+10) Taking into account the -2 from sickened state, which lowers me down from +12 to +10
Khuraargh stands tough against the buzzy effects of the apple ciders, body tough and resistant to such fermented goodies. The apple he threw at "Mr Laughter" landed squarely on his face as he growled and shook a fist at Khuraargh. "Me gonna get you good with club! Count on it!" He threatened and hissed, growled and all that stuff.
Anyways, everyone who was part of the game headed into the marsh to find a hidey place to hide. The groups of goblins who stayed behind to be searchers were led by 'Mr Laughter' who was out for vengeance, club at hand.
'One longshank, two long shanks..."
The marsh is afoul of goblins scurrying about searching for our goblin heroes, ready to give them a whacking.
Eight goblins grouped together to find Sparky who was practically a ninja right now, a tiny itty bitty ninja with a possibly cute even higher pitched voice. They eventually just gave up after many minutes of searching as they made threats for him to come out and that they would only hit him twenty times instead of twenty five. But as mentioned, they left, prompted when they found the prospect of eating pickled gnome fingers much more interesting. So they left and stopped looking for Sparky.
'Mr Laughter' lead a group of three bent on searching for Khuraargh but they did not bother looking up in the mangrove trees in which Khuraargh took refuge in and boy howdy did Khuraargh climb those trees like a boss. It was an interesting sight how he just clambered up the trees.
"Come out Khuraargh, I hit you in head all good ways!" The goblin egged, trying to get Khuraargh to reveal himself since he was having tough times looking for him.
As for Naknuk, the little goblin managed to find a nice rock to hide behind, not the best of hiding places but lucky for him his three pursuers were too busy squabbling among each other to look for him proper. Its as if though they reenacting a Three Stooges scene among each other as neither could agree on which direction to look.
The Gallant Sir Squeeb scampered through marsh, likely with a goofy smile on his face due to the possible thrill he may be experiencing with this sort of game. The little goblin crawled into a small crawl space inside a rotting log which came with desserts in the form of worms if he pleased to munch.
"Sir Squeeb of Lameness, come out come out come where you be hiding and we promise to not hit you too much, only instead we hit harder, hahah!" Four goblins were in search of him, one hitting prickly bushes with her club. One goblin came close to finding him as he thwacked the log with his club. After a while, the goblins got bored and left.
And then finally Skortch, he was being pursued by a gang of nine lead by his brother no less, who choked a bit on the smokestick earlier. However, Skortch managed to find a nice hiding place between the roots of the mangrove trees. There was also a frog to keep him company. His brother and the other goblins shouted mean things about him in hopes of getting him to come out, but alas, no dice and they got bored too, being goblins of short attention spans.
Squeeb dived into the hollow log, he felt it press in on his slender shoulders as he pushed as hard as he could to jam himself in. Unfortunately he was longer than the log so his feet were still sticking out as his fellow goblins walked past.
"Sir Squeeb of Lameness, come out come out come where you be hiding and we promise to not hit you too much."
Well that seems fair, Squeeb thought. Thinking it was only a matter of time before they see his feet anyway he was about to wiggle back out when the goblin finished.
"only instead we hit harder, hahah!"
Now that's just mean. So Squeeb stayed in the log and munched on a rather long worm that got too close as he waited for the four to leave.
When they left he waited for a decent time and tried to wiggle out. He was stuck. "Ugghh!" he huffed and strained. "Oooohg" Until finally with a loud POP he fell out of the log and backward and headed for home.
Naknuk, having managed to find a decent hiding spot, decided to lay low and keep out of sight. As he kept an eye out, he watched as he saw the goblins that attempted to whack him in the head, as they were trying to decide where to look for him. As he watched, their "discussion" turned out to be quite humorous as he almost wanted to laugh. Almost. But instead, he remained silent, trying to keep his stomach from giving him away as they eventually gave up. After enough time seemed to pass, and he remained undetected, Naknuk then began to head back.
Khuraargh almost felt pity for the scrabbling searchers stumbling about in the shadowed swamps below him. He even had a nice long piss off of one of the great mangrove trees to help them...
...turns out, looks like they might be even more drunk than he is. How could they not tell the difference between the scents [and tastes] of monkey piss and goblin piss? Tiring of baiting them, the scarred goblin scrambles through the branches, dropping a few chunks of deadfall as he passes by, arriving ahead of them, back at the village...
...and there, he oh-so-languidly leans against Nord's pen and tosses an apple core over his shoulder, smirking his scarred face at them as they get back, huffing and puffing.
Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
Squealy nommed up that apple core like no one's business.
Back in the middle of town, there were many goblins wooting and just as many scowling, likely the ones who failed to find you lot. Eh, just ignore them.
"Oh ha ho he, my chosen heroes, prove really good hiders, sneaky types, catch enemy off guard," Chief Gutwad guffawed throatily. "Now me not feel as much shame picking you, ha ha he he ho."
"Come to front of Moot House in morning, me will provide rewards personally, it great honor. Now, for rest of night, eat, drink, play and enjoy bonfire." After that Chief Gutwad left, all those cider apples give him indigestion.
You goblins, play into night as the party dies down, most goblins don't even make it to their homes, most fall down in a sleepy stupor outside around. It was a crazy party man.
Naknuk eventually woke up outdoors, next to a tree stump, as he slowly pulled himself up. "Ugh... Naknuk feel better... Slightly..." he silently spoke, before clambering around, trying to find his armor. Once he located his armor and shield, he donned then as quickly as possible, before hurrying his best to the chief's hut.
Squeeb slowly opens his eyes and tries to recognize where he was. It took him a minute but finally he got it. He was lying face first on the ground, which explains why everything was so brown.
Rolling over it all came back to him. The night before he had taken it upon himself to guard the tribe since all the goblins would be too appled up to scout around. He had decided to go patrolling, and must have fallen asleep somewhere along the outskirts of the tribe.
Getting up, he spit out some dirt and a blade of grass before heading to the chief's hut.
There waiting for them was Slorb who was as usual picking his nose and wiping his findings on his fancy dirty garb.
"Youse almost wake late," He said in his nasally pitch voice. Next to him was a potato sack bag filled with stuff. "Chief Gutwad has his head hurting way to much. I tell him he ate too many cider apples and snake eggs. So I am here on his behalf. He wanted me to let you borrow some stuff for accomplishing some dares. It all in this sack for you lot, so you decide who what will get what."
"Sparky and Skortch get selected presents for braving the bonfire, though I tell Chief Gutwad they cheat somehow with magics or something, he no listen, too much cider apples," Slorb sounded a little bitter and even scoffed.
"Anyway, those two each get a *Dragon brew gourd, careful they stinky. This not have to be returned to Moot House like other stuff when you come back," He said as he grabbed the potato sack and dragged it closer to them.
"You got questions, I maybe answer, or not."
*Dragon brew gourd = Elixir of Firebreath
Ring That Lets You Climb Real Good- a ring of climbing Helping Hand-Assisting Gloves Gorge of Gluttons—a +1 dogslicer that functions as a bane weapon when utilized against horses (improving to a +3 dogslicer that inflicts an additional 2d6 points of damage on a successful hit) This is Chief Gutwad's personal sword and he wants it back in one piece or heads will roll. Slippy Slide Maker Stick A Wand of Grease, caster level 2, 11 charges Pretty Red Flag Snatched From Dead Longshank Warrior- a red Knight's Pennon, for this instance though I will allow it to be mounted on a one handed bladed weapon.
"Gasp!" Squeeb gasped, as he looked through the bag, and pulled out a knight's flag. He quickly tied it to his weapon and started waving his sword around and watched as the flag rippled and waved. "Just like a real night," he squeaked, tears almost forming in his eyes.