Goblin Adventure!

To begin, I'd like to state that this is an experimental game, based off of sites like the Anime Addventure. Basically, it is a round-robin game- I'll make a first entry, and then you all can make your own entries afterwards, first come first serve.

With some luck, we'll have a cohesive and entertaining story. More likely, we end up with a twisted mass of mind-fucking chaos, as people try to do all the things.

Either way, I think I'd find it amusing.

 

Re: Goblin Adventure! Interest check

Eh Kay start it off.

 

Re: Goblin Adventure! Interest check

Meh. Mild interest. We will see.

 

The druids say the world is a cycle- Repeating endlessly on every conceivable level, with everything, living and otherwise, playing it's own little part. If you had heard of it, you might think of it as deep wisdom- Or you might think it utter rot. It would depend on your mood at the time.

Given you are a goblin, it's not terribly likely you'll ever hear it anyway.

At the moment, you're standing guard duty at the edge of the camp- a light spear in one hand, buckler strapped to the other. You'd feel more comfortable wearing some proper armor, but it's not like anyone makes that in goblin-size. Besides, it's not likely anyone will attack tonight. You should be perfectly safe.

In the distance, you hear a twig crack.

 

[x]Whelp, there goes our quiet night. Take a defensive position and be ready to scream the alarm if whatever is approaching prove to be hostile.

 

[X] Let's not be jumping. I am sure it's just an animal.

 

[X] Round-Robin, not Quest?

You respond to sudden and unexpected noise in the dark on patrol in the time-honored and tested traditions of survivors of goblin warfare.

You throw your spear in that direction, screaming shrilly at the top of your lungs, and run to hide behind a tree.

You think you can hear other guards responding, each in their own way, to your traditional sounding of the alarm and call for reinforcements.

 

The crack sets your nerves alight as you startle. You pull your arms to bare in a ramshackle stance with the defensive worth of tissue and cast your beady little eyes around, looking for shadows in the trees.

"Who's out there? Show yourself or i'll gut ya like a fish!" , you boast with a brusque bravado giving every appearance of worthless little goblin trying to look bigger than he really is.... exactly as planned.

You name Mixto Shadeclaw and you are a cunning goblin. Though you're a poor man you've learned to make the most of little. Appearing weaker than you are, playing to the stereotypes people have goblins have given you many an opening to people you had no reason beating in a open fight.

Your stance with such a weak defense leaves you ably ready for a tumble with 'aparent' artless grace that would easily put you in range to stab the groin of many a humanoid attacker or impale the bellies of inhuman ones.

You're out here with your latest enterprising little band because you have the sharpest eyes and the mildest appearance. Poor guards mean poor soldiers and all that.

So you wait here shaking in 'fear' watching the shadows , when you see a silhouette and it moves for you!

Damn.

You know you hear the swish of the air as your spear is cut down by a brutally huge sword. You also know that you've wet yourself as the top of the tree above you falls over your hiding space.

"For Deagon!", you hear screamed as patrolmen start to arrive and you start to run into undergrowth already guessing what's going to happen.

A Deagonic Cleric of Mordovan is raiding you. You've already written off everyone who won't run.

 

sdfadsfadsahow do you delete these things.

 

Huh.

I honestly don't know. There doesn't seem to be a delete button.

Edit- An answer from the Mods themselves-

So.... Yeah, no deleting. Unless you ask the mods nicely, I guess.

 

Never tried one of these before.


You run, screaming, making use of the alarmbox the gods gave you. Things seem to be on fire; did the cleric have friends, or did some goblin drop a torch into the huts again?

Old Magatha, the cleric of Magubliyet - god of goblins, by dint of nobody else really wanting to take on the job - is trying to rally the warriors. This can only be a good thing, you know. More warriors swarming the invading cleric means more bodies between you and that massive sword.

You skirt the village itself, not wanting to be recruited into the growing goblin way party that the older veterans are trying to kludge together out of a bunch of small green humanoids that are alternately eager, terrified, and/or wanting to get a helping of the stew while no one is paying attention.

You are, of course, not a particularly lucky goblin.

 

You are thankfully a smart and paranoid one which is why you go down to and into the bushes as the wind turns again and blood fills the air.

Clerics don't hunt alone!

You crawl desperately seeking the mud and water as the howls of golbin wargs meet Doragon Tigers thankful for the flowers masking your scent.

 

As you huddle in the muck and filth, praying to your vile gods that you will not be noticed, you see a heavily armored boot slam to the ground not three feet in front of you. You freeze, hoping that if you don't move, don't breath, you won't be noticed.

"Is that all of them?" The voice is deep and growling, like some huge hunting cat- The response, in contrast, is soft and urbane- "Indeed, my lord. No more shall these creatures stain your lands."

His lands? Anger surges in your heart. Your people had been here long before these men's ancestors had first stepped on this land.

"Very well," The Growling Man's voice fades as he walks away, "I should be getting on. There is yet more filth staining this country- If I am to be king, how can I not purge it clean?"