Goblin Gathering

Log Info

• Title: Goblin Gathering
• Emitter: Cryosanthia
• Characters: Murder, Namira, Azog, Munch, Garrett, Merek, Cryosanthia
• Place: North of Alexandria
• Time: Wednesday, February 12, 2020, 6:23 PM
• Summary: The goblins, hobgoblins and orcs have gathered to sell their wares. In a square packed with all sorts of temporary booths, the compete with each other for attention and customers. Murder is there, selling Peppers, and interacts with Namira and Azog. Azog, finds a riding worg puppy, and an argument with Garrett. Munch and Merek arrive, looking for interesting things to purchase, but end up running into old acquaintances. The mysterious stage that occupies the center of the remains mysterious, but it turns out to be a great launchpad.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing, in Order  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Murder       3'6"     40 Lb      Goblin            Female    A goblin woman in studded leather.                                         
Namira       5'0"     98 Lb      Shadow Elf        Female    Dark Elf wearing Vardaman Vestments 
Azog         7'0"     350 Lb     Orc               Male   A huge male orc with long black hair in a topknot.              
Munch        6'5"     225 Lb     War Golem         Male      Dreadlocked golem with metal scales.                                       
Garrett      5'8"     160 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A human in black leather, constantly wearing a hood
Merek        5'10"    215 Lb     Human             Male      A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.                              
Cryosanthia  6'7"     245 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos.                     
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--

Goblins! Goblins Everywhere!

Green is the colour of the day. The square is packed with a sea of goblinity, milling from shop to shop dressed in outlandish outfits with the strangest of accessories. Most, are regular goblins, short in stature and swift of reflexes. Jutting up are the Arvec, like grey mountains among their smaller bretheren, with an occasional flash of colour. The oruch cut swaths between these, like stern ships as they go directly towards whatever has captured their interest. Standing out is one orange Arvec woman, bright amidst the grey-greens, a sunrise to the nautical allusion.

Central to the square is a platform several times longer than it is wide. At either end, a thick beam curves outwards and upwards as high as a second story building. Multi-coloured lights are strung between these two spars. A curtain crosses the middle between them also, and otherwise it is open on all sides. Actors could move through the partition for either side of the floor. Strangely there seems no 'offstage' area. Perhaps they simply jump on from the crowd. Pot lights are located around the perimiter in pop-ups, and there are hatches and boxes attached suggestive of pyrotechnics or special effects. There is an unusual shimmering to this construction. An obvious illusion, except it appears disguised as itself. The main platform is at head-height to a goblin with the ground clearly visible underneath it, where there is that strange shimmering again.

Packed around the edges of the buildings are temporary stores, stall, carts, lean-tos, tents, and other hastily assembled places of business that frustrate and obstruct the actual businesses located here. In some cases, goblins have built a second goblin shop on top of a particularly sturdy ground floor edifice. Each one has eager vendors scanning the crowd, ready to jump out at anyone that looks their way.

A moment's hesitation and potential patrons are shoved inside while they make up their mind. It's difficult to escape without a purchase, but there are several things worth buying. Deaf Ned's Firearms Emporium is a cart opened up to display barrels of blunderbusses and piles of pistols.

A grey goblin girl sits on a stack of cages beneath a sign advertizing: Maori's Riding Wolf Starter Packages, and the cages hold wide eyed, fluffy pawed, puppies. Aunty Sifila's Temporary Warts is a popular stall, to get everyone in a goblin-y mood. There's a free smooch with every one! Fresh Birds are being hawked. There's a tent labled 'Rainbow Feathers', which sells: feathers. Artificer booths bedecked with glowing globes crowd with shacks selling amulets, skulls and small dried animals. Chili is everywhere, as are pickpockets, and even tinier goblin children that dart around at ankle level like bowling balls.

There's a >BANG< as someone examining a dragonspitter sets it off. A moment of silence, followed by clapping, followed by the goblins returning to business wit the hub-bub of conversations filling the square again.

At one of the smaller stalls near the puppy stall, a wee Gobbo in furs is hawking her wares to the crowd. Murder is selling, exclusively, a variety of peppers. Hot peppers. Sweet peppers. 'Beginner' peppers and more. She calls them out in turn, and then cants her head skyward, breathing out a great gout of flame. Her stall has a small line formed.

First time to Alexandria...now first time to Merkabah, Namira was having a great time today of NOT finding the Temple of Vardama, as she promptly gets lost again. Even circling completely around the redridge mountains to be....here. The Mul'niessa looks about at.....all of the goblins and...doesn't seem too perturbed at the smallish green ones...just their use of gunpowder. But then again...her race had their own reputation.....so perhaps she shouldn't be too judgemental.

"Oooo" The first in line at the pepper stall is a green gobblin with a long nose. He asks eagerly, "Free samples? How menny peppers it takes to do that? Which kind? Gimme 3!"

Murder eyes the first Gobbo, and grins toothily. "Now that is a secret few could teach you. I, myself, was set upon the path by the Oruch." She offers a wink. "But one can learn it if one becomes a sorcerer or bloodrager." The Gobbo pulls out her trusty Gobbo army blade, and begins slicing up a decent sized jalapeno pepper. "This, though, can make one feel what fire is like." She offers him the slice, and gestures to a small stall nearby. "If it is too much, the bread there will help it go down." The goblins move around Namira as if she wasn't there. A few stop, giving her a curosory glance, looking to see what's she's selling, and when she they determine she isn't, they keep going. The average height of the crowd is significantly lower than her's.

The goblin man eagerly takes the jalapeno slice from Murder. He was very interested in the information, and her blade. "Awright!" He pops it in his mouth, "This is... uh oh..." Off he goes, beeline for the bread stall.

Immediately, there's another customer in front of Murder. A heavy-set goblin woman with three oversized bags. "Something sweet deary." She puts her coins down.

Maori, of Maori's Riding Wolf Starter Packages, gives Murder a thumbs up and a grin. She's making no effort to sell her pups, letting them sell themselves.

The Mul'niessa looks over the gobbers and even gives a slight smile....then looks to Murder's booth and....watches as the gobber runs for another stall. "Is....he going to be okay?" She says as the gobber lady steps up...around her.

Murder waves to Maori, and offers a beatific smile, before she eyes the Goblin at the front of the line. "Certainly!" The Gobbo produces three plump, yellow peppers. "These go well in just about everything. Nice with meats. Good in sauces. Just the hint of something fiery underneath. Ten coppers for the three."

While she waits for the customer to find some coin... or perhaps argue, Murder eyes the Mul'niessa and shrugs. "It shouldn't do him any harm, unless he has an allergy maybe? It's just hot, but not hot enough to do permanent physical damage."

"Thank you. Those dishes sound lovely." The customer is unexpectedly argument-free. She places the 10 copper and takes the peppers, tucking them into one of her bags. She smiles at Murder, then the dark elf and moves on.

The next in line is a tall goblin boy, almost fully grown, he has three regular size gobbo chidren with him."

"C'mon. Do it"

"It'll be great."

The goblin with the growth spurt steps forward, looks at Murder, "Uh... give me you Hottest Pepper!" His friends laugh.

"All right." Namira says softly. "Just looked a little unwell. I can't handle them myself. Spices don't like my stomach...or my stomach doesn't like spices. Either way, it unsettles my stomach."

The Gobbo grins to the older woman, and waves as she leaves. As the taller boy steps to the front of the line, and asks for the hottest pepper, Murder grins toothily. Her eyebrows raise up as she notes the smaller ones egging the tall one on. She suddenly cants her head back and lets out another enormous gout of fire.

"Are ye sure lad? The hottest peppers will turn yer insides t'fire, and yer legs t'water. Can ye stomach the reaper of guts herself, the Norther Waste's most potent secret?" Murder sets an orange-sized, green pepper upon her counter. "Guaranteed to melt yer lips off!"

She leans to Namira a moment and shrugs. "Intestines don't always agree with burning things in them. So..."

"Uh..." The goblin boy hesitates, stepping back from the pillar of flame that erupts from Murder's mouth. His eyes wide, clearly frightened by that demonstration. Whether he hears the warning about the pepper, hard to say.

His friends, sensing hesitation, push his back, "Yeah, he wannas, he'll be cool!"

"Yeah, yeah! I can do it." The boy puffs up his chest.

Namira shakes her head. "All for the sake of being 'cool'." Namira says before she turns to watch the youth.... Azog is avoiding the peppers with a glare of distaste. He's got a bit of history with spicy foods, and the gobbers here like it -much- spicier than he can handle. He doesn't even try to compete. He does peer at the riding wolves for sale. How big? How tough? How well-trained?

"Eeh, don't kids of your race do the same thing? Do things to prove to their friends that they're cool? Silly things? Dangerous things?" Murder chuckles and looks to the boy and his friends. "Do ye have the coin? This is one gold, yanno. It can make a whole giant pot of chili spicier than anything!" The Gobbo leans forward and lowers her voice. "I caaaan get you something better, though, and cheaper. It'll still burn when it comes out the other side." She straightens then, and waves to Azog!

The goblin boy reaches for the pepper on the counter, looking at it, looking at Murder. His expression, hidden from his friends, is full of fear. He heard the guts-will-melt warning. He's also, not about to back down. When she names the price, obvious relief floods across his features, "I doan gotta gold! Got a silver. Hottest this buys!"

Very determined, he slaps down a silver coin.

Meanwhile, at the 'Riding Wolves', Maori grins at Azog. She's sitting on one of the cages, legs crossed, and the cage is large enough to put her at his eye height. "S'all up to you! They're Puppies! Feed 'em, they get big. Train 'em, they get good! Bond forver, protect you to the death."

Namira looks to Murder. "Children of my race are being taught how best to kill other races. So 'cool' is relative." She says before looking to the children. "Precisely why I left."

"Yeah, words are good puppers for riding. They'll even carry you, iffn you feed them red meat as soon as they're able.", Murder calls out, over the din, to Azog and Maori.

The Gobbo grins to the boy then, and will place down a large jalapeno pepper. "Only reason why it's a silver is 'cos I've made it better. Not hotter, but better." She leans in to whisper in the lad's ear, "It's stuffed with cheese. Very tasty. Not too bad, heat-wise. Your friends will be impressed." The pepper is offered up, and the coin disappears into a pouch on her belt.

Murder glances to Namira and grins. "That's pretty much the story of everyone here. Most of us come from.. dangerous places, grew up knowing how to hunt, how to fight the other tribes."

Azog hrms to Maori, and nods thoughtfully. "Maybe that is what must be done. No horse will survive the things I ride against, but maybe I can train up a wolf." He looks the pups over, and says, "I will take that one." He'll select one, and then he's being waved at? "I will come back for it." He looks up from the riding wolves and ventures over to where Murder is distributing those peppers. "You need something?" he asks, his voice carrying the Dran accent even after all these years in Alexandria. Like the other oruch, his size and demeanor means that he gets a bit of space around him.

The tall goblin boy appears quite satisfied with his purchase, taking the jalapeno and turning so they can see him as he stuffs it all in his mouth and chews. It is hot, and he starts sweating and pulling faces, but he chews it down, "Hot! Hot! Hot! Water! Where's water?" He runs off, with his friends trailing and laughing.

Maori gives a double thumbs up at Azog, rocks on her perch, and another grin towards Murder. She's has a wide mouth with a lot of teeth, amazingly straight posture, and comfortable dark clothes.

Namira chuckles as the youth runs off. "He wanted to be cool, but now he's hot." She says before looking to the oruch that walks up.....and tilting her head. "Hmmm..." She says quietly.

Murder grins to the boy, and shouts, "Go to the bread stall! It helps!" She then peers up at Azog and sighs. "I was waving hello.", she says simply, while serving up a few sweet, red peppers to a Gobbo who's looking for a good accompaniment to curry. "And also pointing out that you should feed the pup red meat as soon as it is able to eat it. Should make it grow up bignstrong! Feed him bones too, good thick ones like cattle leg bones."

The Gobbo peers at Namira. "Naw, he's cool. It's not a temperature thing..."

Azog nods to Maori. He'd selected a young wolf pup and he's got a fair eye for such things. His tribe had ridden wolves and he'd learned from then in years gone by, and even though he'd ridden a horse on leaving the monastery and coming to Alexandria, maybe he should pursue somethng closer to his roots in this regard. The horse was killed years ago now, some villain or other, it doesn't really matter now. To Murder, he says, "I am familiar with the care, feeding, and training of wolves. My clan raised them for riding and I learned that before I ever learned the sword."

"They're all Nifs!" Maori explains, pointing to the truly huge Worg that is behind all the cages, yet still dwarfs them. She releases a pup into Azog's care, along with a leash and chewy thing, which might be a toy, or might be food. "Took me ta Hell and Back."

Around the square, vendors call out, one near is very loud.

"Exploding Clocks! Get cher Explodin' Clocks right here!" A grey-green goblin man shouts. His stall, has shelves jam-packed with various timepieces and a blast shaped sign showing one blowing apart with the word 'Explody' boldly over top. He is standing on a truly massive looking Clock, that's easily 4' tall, allowing him to project across the crowd. "Start your morning with a bang! Guaranteed! Get the family-of-five house-shaker, wake the tykes. Or the Neighbourhood Blockbuster and all roll out together! A month's worth of alarms, sold separately!"

Murder calls out then, after making a few more sales, "Sorry, my stall is closed. Come back later, I'll have more delicious peppers in stock!" Some complain, others quickly run off to seek the spices elsewhere. Surely someone has them!

"That's what my clan did also, Azog. Learnd t'ride when I was like them there." She points to a gaggle of wee Goblins, running about underfoot. She then offers a wave to those about, "Take care for now!" She pulls her furs closer, and covers her face with a fur with holes cut out for the eyes and mouth. Murder disappears into the crowd.

Garrett walks along the stalls looking various things over. He moves about with purpose. He looked like some sort of half orc and when he see's someone familiar. He makes his way over to the peppers and sighs. "Well I guess I am not getting any peppers." He says calmly as he looks around. He looks to munch and looks around for any familiar faces.

"Dare you try the Devil's Toe pepper?! Dare you eat the lava born spice?! Those faint of heart need not apply! Come try the hottest pepper around! One bite and you.. you'll... ahem... copper each, twelve for a silver, quality product folks." As one vendor closes up, another opens, hawking his wares loudly... only to fall quiet as he spys a large metallic form moving though the crowd. A familiar sight around goblintown, it's no real surprise that Munch the TerroMaw has shown up. And less surprise a familiar vendor holds back his catcalls. Don't dare Munch to eat things. He'll do it. It's not a challenge.

The metal man wnders slowly, less for intrest of the wares he passes than in an effort not to step on anyone. Most locals ar far too quick to be bothered by such concerns, but it takes only one slowpoke...

Namira is simply watching the gathering of Gobbers and others in the area. She seems to be mostly curious about the gobbers.. A balloon flies towards Garrett and Munch at a rapid pace. As it draws closer it is apparent it is tied to a goblin child. An ingenious way to keep track of the little snipes, although the balloon may not be long for this world. The string snags on everything! The balloon is pulled past people, poles and products, any one might pop it. Randomly above the crowd, other ballons are rapidly flying back and forth. Powered by children.

Azog will lead off the small wolf on the leash, and bid Murder farewell as she departs. He grumbles at the goblins' obsession with peppers, though he understands it, at least. When the only meat you can get is ... past when it should be eaten, you've got to do something to make it palatable. To the wolf pup, he says, "I shall call you Carcharoth, and I will feed you meat and you shall grow strong." The wolf makes no reply to this, but continues to gnaw the thing Maori gave him before giving him to Azog.

"So naming it after the dark god of wolves...Clever." Garrett says as he hears Azog as he looks around. He watches the wolf and then looks about once more. "I just want some peppers. I like a little bit of spice. It beats the food I grew up with." He says calmly.

Munch watches the balloons with mild intrest, but not true attention. Colorful and moving, but not food. "...still not sure why they float."

And a gobber is watching Namira. There's a tug at her elbow. The touch came from a green-skinned goblin woman with copper makeup as lipstick, eyeliner, and cheek blush. She holds what on first glance looks like a roach painted copper. "Hi, I'm Kreela! Want a Kleena?"

The balloon circles around Munch as the goblin child it is attached to sees something interesting. How he missed noticing the immense construct, is unknown. Perhaps the kid thought he was a building.

"Gunpowder Spice! For food 'n firin'. Spice up ya meal as ya kill it."

"Interesting." The Mul'niessa says before she starts her way back to Alexandria....to find what she was looking for in the first place.

Azog arches a brow at Garret as he speaks to him, and says, "Wolves have no god, and no god I know bears that name, /human/. You make a poor orc, by the way. It's shameful, but do as you will," he adds with a shrug. "But claim no clan or it will go hard on you," he advises sternly. Clans, among Oruch, are serious business.

Munch has been mistaken for part of the furniture before. It's golem thing. Peering over the sea of bobbing green heads and flopping ears, the golem raises a hand in greeting to the familiar Azog, distracted by the call of... gunpowder spice?

"I do this to avoid capture by bounty hunters and the watch." He says as he pulls out his fake teeth and pockets it. He then looks to Azog. "Got a name yourself, or you too proud to say it to a mere human?" Garrett asks curiously. He then looks to Munch. "Oh look. Someone uglier then you." He says softly.

There is a tent with a goblin selling 'Gunpowder Spice'. He has a blunderbus with a sign 'SPICE' on it, as the business placard. Two barrels of gunpowder make up the store front, and there are shelves behind with sealed jars, as well as some sacks. It seems the mixture is simply spice and gunpowder in some proporation that keeps the powder active. There is also a recipe book, featuring of course, his various spice blends, which suggests a little work and experimentation might have gone into the blends to make them successful.

When Namira departs, the copper painted goblin woman goes back to her stall, which a sign identifies as 'Kreela's Kreepy Krawler Klockwerk Kleaner Kockroaches!' There is a rough drawign of a very big-eyed bug as a mascot, wings drawn to be like as a butler's jacket. On display are what seem to be life-sized, and twice life-sized clockwork roaches, made of copper and glass with red and green glowing eyes. The goblin starts up her touting, "Kleena Klocky Kockies! Swap 'em in to get the real bugs out! Stabs them in the head, it does, then picks up dirty bits lyin' about. Ya'got bug ya'nee Kreela's Coppies! Not step-on-abble!"

Azog waves to Munch, and shrugs to Garret. "Many know my name. Perhaps most, in Alexandria." He's fairly obvious, if nothing else. "But tell me why I should give a name to a man sneaking around in disguise?" At the mention of 'uglier than you', he says, "You say there's a bounty out on you? Or a reward from the watch? I do not usually care about such things, but if you feel the need to be a smartass at me, I will see about collecting that bounty."

"There is a bounty for me in Stormgarde. Me and my master pulled a heist for a magical artifact. I barely got out of there before the watched locked it down." Garrett says as he looks to Munch. He looks to the various wares and he shrugs at Azog. "So far my jobs have been fairly legal. Haven stolen anything yet." He says with a smirk. He then looks to the clockwork roaches and hmms. "Name's Garrett. Now you know me." He says to the oruch.

Munch eyes the 'spice' display with mild intrest, carefully leaning close. The golems front face plate cracks open, and a long black tongue flicks out of the opening, testing the air above the barrels without touching the actual product. "...applied before or after cooking?" the golem inquires, ignoring the cookbook for now.

"Both!" says the goblin gun-chef cheerily. "You peppa' up and tenderize 'em with the shot, and the blood circilatin' spreads it, then when is done an' dressed you use more as a dry rub or mix up as light sauce or gravey. Me dones a book, all me recips."

Azog has zero interest in goblin cuisine. Ugh. He can hunt for himself, and for much better than bugs. He nods to Garret, and says, "I will see if there is a bounty for a Garrett in Stormgarde, and perhaps I will collect you, then, if it is worth the effort. But if you disguise yourself here, I have no faith that the name you give me is your own. For all I know, Garrett is some famous villain and you are merely trying to claim his honor. Or perhaps it's a name you have chosen so that your villany elsewhere remains a secret." Disapproval drips from his voice.

"Garrett's the name I have chosen for myself. My mother and those that raise me know my true name. I prefer garrett." Garrett says as he looks to Azog and he puts his hands into his pocket. "My true name reminds me of where I grew up. My mother was my only comfort, but she was constantly busy easing relations between the races. The rest of my family probably glad I am gone." He says disdainfully as he looks to gun cuisine.

Munch buzzes thoughfully, and nods. "I tend more towards spray than circulation. But might make it work." The metal man eyes the mentioned book a moment, and nods again before straightening up. "I'll be back later." Turning, Munch carefully starts his way over to the orc and human-in-disguise, nodding to the former. "Hello Azog, what has you angry? Could hear disapproval from across the way."

"Gears! Get yer artificer gears here! I got energy pumps, entropy caps, magic resistors, circa plates and tiny screws." Another goblin vendor touts loudly, from a booth that seems to be one giant mechanisim that opened out of a suitcase, comprised mostly of gears, spars, and some cloth draped on afterwards. He waves a sword in the air, also bestewn with mechanical doo-dads, and a canister ratchets up the blade's side to the tip. A firework launches out of it, a screamer, that flies upwards and explodes with a >BANG< above the square.

Azog eyes Garrett skeptically. "I see," he says simply. He looks over as Munch turns up, and he says, "This human is trying to look like an Oruch, and claims there is a bounty on him in Stormgarde. And he thinks we are ugly," he adds dryly. "But wishes to know my name and clan. But I will not tell him while his lies persist." Lies are so anathema to Azog that he doesn't even like theater or made-up stories of adventure, Munch may recall. Azog's attention is drawn to the screaming firework before he looks back to Munch and Garrett.

"Sorry about the ugly comment. I grew up in silvermoon and when you are raised by elves, you tend to think oruchs are ugly." Garrett says as he pulls his hood off to reveal his pointed ears. Clearly not a human after all. "If you insist on knowing my true name then fine. It is Maldriel Son'Doriel" He says, his sildanyari tinged accent coming out of his voice now.

Munch peers at Garrett a few moments before turning his attention to Azog. "I've been told it's not right to get angry at crazy people. They can't help being crazy. So I spend most of my time in the wilds."

There is a long line at the 'Teef Sharpers' booth, so much so the vendor isn't advetizing loudly. Instead she's rapidly working on teeth with a file, making pointies pointier. It seems rough dental work, but the more expensive options include caps, applied as hot, liquid metal. There are some screams, and usually a healing potion, but at the end of the procedure the goblinoids who underwent it seem satisfied.

Azog says to Munch, "I am not angry. I just feel no need to treat someone with honor when they have none themselves. But yes, I do not spend too much time in the city, myself." He eyes Garrett as he comes clean about his race and name, and he says, after a thoughtful pause, "I am Azog, of the Lightning Maul tribe." He does not seem to keep his own teeth sharpened, though there are a few oruch who do.

Garrett puts iis hood back over his head. "My elven heritage is a sore spot for me. Instead of defending me, they banished me from my home. Because it was the right thing to do." He says with a roll of his eyes. "Laws benefit the rich. If being free means being a criminal then so be it." He says bitterly. He then looks to Munch.

Merek has come about to look at the place, his magic black-white and matte half plate upon him while he makes a way about, to look to Merkabah while he shifts a cloak about his attire. He does seem to consider while he nods to people.

Munch buzzes thoughtfully and shrugs. "Laws aren't all bad. Sometimes they are. Find the ones who make the bad laws, then write new laws with the blood as ink, bones are quill, and parchment made of flayed skins. They won't make bad laws again." You paged Whirlpool with 'I'm interested, but will keep on with the goblin event, so sadly I can't. Next time hopefully!'

Various noises rise above the general crowd volume.

>>POP!<<

"No ma'am, don't enable the alarm. One use only, no demos."

"Yes, I absolutely love roaches! Me da' used ta say he left 'em to watch overs me when he went for pipeweed. Errry time!"

"Oi, you can' ta' that, you ha'n't paid!"

A chorus of worg howls erupts from Maori's stall, as she looks at Nif with a grin. The great worg bellows his howl, and his pups join in with high pitched zapping. The pup beside Azog starts to howl, stops, then looks at his new master and whines.

Azog eyes Garrett, and says, "You make strange choices. Your heritage does not make you a criminal in Alexandria, but stealing a magical artifact -does- make you a criminal. You should also make up your mind as to whether you were banished or fled from your crime." He shrugs about laws. He doesn't bother with them most of the time. "Laws are a way for villains to justify themselves and escape punishment, I've found." He nods to what Munch says. "That is one solution to unjust laws," he agrees. When his pup looks to him, he pets the wolf, who has already learned not to how just because others do. That'll spoil your stealth if you're sneaking up on someone. "Good boy," he praises Carcharoth.

Carcharoth wags his tail happily!

"I was banished from Silvermoon, my home. I fled Stormgarde." Garrett says sounding annoyed. He then looks to munch and watches him. "Do golems eat food?" He asks curiously of the golem as he waits for Azog to chastise the half elf.

Azog nods gravely as Garrett explains himself. "In that case, you were done an injustice. That does not justify thievery, though." He snorts at the question of golems eating food, eyes Munch, and says, "A better question is what golens -won't-= eat. I am not sure if that question has an answer. But I must go," he explains, and departs.

Munch buzzes and shrugs. "Most don't, a few do. I used to be the only one, but some kind of tree guy showed up recently, I guess he eats stuff? We havn't really talked, so I don't know."

"Oh dearie, dearie, you're lovely, but you know what would make you lovelier? A wart, right on the tippy-tip of your nose! It'll help you fit in, you look like you're trying so hard to fit in." A small, wizened old woman goblin has appeared out of no-where, with her claw-like hand hovering in front of Garrett's face. She herself, possess many, many warts. They're a standard of beauty among goblin kind, so despite this woman's dried apple appearance, she must be gorgeous. She eyes Munch. Hopeless cause. She menaces Garrett with her finger again, "It's temporary! Real beauty like mine takes a lot of work, but you'll be such a cutie."

Garrett blinks at the old woman. "I thank you. I just seem incapable of growing my own warts." He says wistfully to the wizened goblin. He then looks to munch. "I believe we met before...Munch was it?" He asks as he watches the golem.

Merek looks to the old woman, while he then nods to Azog while he's on his way, back to Garrett and Munch, "So what are people up to?" he asks.

The goblin woman interprets Garrett's response as an affirmative. Quick as a blink, she's tapped his nose, and follows it up with a kiss. Strange, goblinoid scents waft from her clothing in near proximity. The wart tingles a little, and seems properly fleshy and attached.

The beautifully shrivelled up old woman returns to her stall, 'Aunty Sifilia's Temporary warts'. Hopefully. Hopefully really temporary and not accidentally permanent. She's loudly heard telling her neighbour vendor.

"I kissed an elf and I liked it!"

Then Merek has her attention, "You, you! Black and White, come here!"

Munch is beautiful in his own way. Awesome. In that he inspiers awe. But, he does not have warts. "Munch Terrormaw. And you're the noble in exile who can't deside on how much makeup to use." he glances to Merek at the question, and shrugs. "Came to see if the vendors had anything new and different. Few things I havn't seen before, but nothing major."

Garrett blinks and sighs. "Oh to be young." He says as he begins to head off, not seeming to mind the wart on his nose. He then looks about and stops at a vendor to order some peppers. Once paid for, he begins to leave, raising his hood to hide his face.

Merek nods a bit between the two, then waves while Garrett is on his way, making his way to the woman, "What do you need?" he asks, glancing to Munch, while perhaps curious about the situation as well.

"Come and get one of Aunty Sifila's beauty marks, my darling." The goblin woman encourages, while she's sticking them on all goblins that come near, deftly raking in a steady stream of coin.

Munch buzzes softly, considering. "Need? Very little. Want? ...something to keep enemies from teleporting away would be nice."

Merek looks to them thoughtfully, "I'll take one," he says, might be worth looking into the magic it uses if that does, while he nods to Munch, taking a moment to ask, "Does anyone sell any equipment for making coffee?" he asks as well.

Swoosh, quick as a whip Aunty Sifili puts the wart on Merek's nose, then kisses his hand. There are tingling sensations, where she kissed, and where the wart is. Something magical happened.

"Oh yes deary-luv, right down there." The crooked woman points her crooked hand across the square and down a little.

Munch nods in agreement, gesuring vaugely. "Don't drink the stuff, but was a guy with oe of those loud steaming things, looks like a boiler. Pretty sure those do coffee."

Merek nods a bit between the two, "Thank you," he says, then he's walking along likely with Munch, though if he keeps with the old woman he will make his way anyway to the place selling devices once he's offered gold for magic. He does shift the cloak a bit while he looks at things for sale.

"MUNCH! Is that you? You glorious bastard. Get over here!" A female voice cuts through the crowd. An Arvec Nar, and it's a wonder anyone managed to over look her. She's a walking fire. Unlike most hobgoblins, who are grey, her colours are on the other end of the sunset spectrum. She's orange, yellow, red, darker red. Much like a siamese cat, the cooler parts of her body have the brightest colours. She's a bright yellow on her face and fingers, shading to orange over most of her, and her core is red, or redder. And there is a lot of skin to see, as she's wearing stereotype korrite barbarian gear, with a heavy earthbreaker on her back. "Still limping it up with that axe huh?"

Munch perks at the shout, the leathery 'dreadlocks' on his head wiggeling like snakes as his eyes shift from blue to green. "Firestarter?! I told you last time, you talk crap about my axe, I'll flatten ya!" And so saying, the metal man lauches a fist at the crimson core. For those familiar with such things, he's pulling his punch, but not a lot.... it... it's a Korrite thing. Pretty standard greeting, really.

Merek nods a bit while he begins to shop, with the thing that he is looking for. He doesn't say a lot, though he does look to Munch and Firestarter.

Firestarter takes the punch. She's not about to look weak! Absorbing it isn't easy, as she is clearly shoved several feet back with a grunt. Her eyes blaze. She moves in for her own swing, "You've hit harder. Don't pull them for me!"

She lets go with a left hook shot, meant to land near those dreadlocks. She's pulling hers too... but not by much. Only Korrites would understand.

Meanwhile, there's a hissing noise near Merek, followed by a "Mer-Mer. Going to just walk on by huh? Typical." An Arvec woman with a lot of piercings is calling to him. She's very dark skinned, greys and black, brightening up her appearance with white makeup and silver jewerly. Her hair is spiked, and she has a tight fitting sorcerors robe, slit up the sides of her legs. She has a booth, which seems to be selling some sort of dark alcohol. She slams a bottle, "But this, and pay full price this time!"

Munch takes the punch with nary a flinch, the 'dreadlocks' squirming out of the way. The golem reaches up and takes Firestarter's fist in his, and pushes, slowly evenly, to give a fair acessment as to his actual strength. Which is... impressive. Not quite titan level, but more than any normal human could match. "I've gotten a lot stronger since last we talked. -Lot- has changed, really." The Disciple flexes his large wings, pointedly. "Anyway, what you been up to? Where ya been?"

Merek meanwhile looks to that arvek woman while he blinks a bit. Then he nods, "Ah, I wouldn't imagine that I might see you about," he says, then he's walking up to that booth while he packs up his artifice devices. "Great to see you, what's the price?" he asks, taking a look at his coin. He does shift his cloak away from the broad shoulders while he takes a moment to think about it.

There is no contest. Munch is much stronger than Firestarter now. Her fist is pushed back. There's a tightness to her face, then the snarl expression vanishes. "Fighting. Fun. Up North, where you left me. Hiring out across the Dran. You so upset about your axe you couldn't say bye? I heard it is getting good for gobbos, so came down. Checking this out."

"Really, like nothing happened at all. Fine. 3 gold." The ashen arvec woman says, eyeing the artifice devices as they are packed up. "It's black rum. Should lay you out."

Munch buzzes in amusment. "I said my goodbyes. You too drunk to remember?" The metal man carefully reaches behind himself, slowly drawing his massive adamantie greataxe. "Although, Reaver an I have given some considerstaion to your argument." Setting the half of the weapon on the ground, the metal starts to flow like mercury, shifting upwards until a long metal dragon, limbs tucks by its sides, forms a large earthbreaker, the wooden haft making for an overly long tail... and th metal eyes blinking and looking around. "...like I said. Lot has changed."

Merek nods a bit while he places about 5 gold upon the booth, "A little tip," he says, with a smile. Then he looks to the woman, "You been doing alright? I need to be back to work, though would be wonderful to catch up," he adds, nodding a bit. "Mebbe." Firestarter says, watching as the Axe is drawn, shifts and flows, and turns into her favourite weapon. Flattered and envious, she wants to punch him again, the colour in her face gets brighter. She folds her arms, "Huh."

The ashen arvec takes Merek's coin, pushes the bottle towards him. "Good. Good enough. This is a great opportunity. Maybe I'll find you at work then."

>>>> BOOOOM <<<<<

A cannon blast rocks the square. Further down, a column of smoke leads to Deaf Ned, holding a beast of a weapon in his hands. A beast for Goblins, for human sized (or larger!) folk it would be unwieldy but not impractical to use. Up above, the smoke drifts into a streak across the sky. "COME GIT YER GUNS! ALL THE GUNS YI NEED."

Reaver the adamantine weapon, currently a earthbreaker, looks to Firestarter. "I don't really remember you, I wasn't really awake then. So, nice to meet you." Munch glances towards the boom, more curious than concerned, but has no intrest. He's got the only weapon he wants.

Firestarter shakes her head, pushing one hand over her ear, rubbing. She shouts down the way, "HEY! SOME OF US LIKE HEARING STILL!"

Deaf Ned waves back with a grin.

She snorts her frustration, then looks at Reaver. "Well, Hello. I remember you. So all his obsessing had a point. Sorry then."

She shrugs at Munch, "Yeah my earthbreaker doesn't talk. So, you win. You been doing good?"

Munch buzzes in amsument, and nods, carefully placing Reaver back upon his back, with the metal face peering over his shoulder. "Pretty good. This place suits me. Been good to golems, plenty of gear to keep me outfitted good, but enough wilds around I keep busy. Not perfect, but no place is. If you plan to stick aorund, drop by Old Clunks, in GobberTown. They got things set up pretty decent for guys like me."

"Alright, sounds like a date." Firestarter punches Munch lightly on the shoulder, watching Reaver's eye over it. "Gonna stick around. Rumours are gobbers are gettin' a good deal in Alexandria. Lot are packing up for here. This artifice is..." She shrugs, tapping her earthbreaker.

"Hammer, nail, that's how I likes it."

Munch nods in agreement. "Not my people, so don't know that much about it. But Alexandria... it really tries to take care of everyone. Like, really, not just making a show of it." The golem buzzes thoughtfully. "Me? I break things and hurt people. But doing it for a place that tries to make the world better? That's worth sticking around for."

Several goblins move past, all wearing the same style pants: blue and white vertical stripes. With their rolling gait, it's clear they are part of the same crew. A few others with matching apparel are spread around the crowd, poking their noses into things. A truly giant Arvec Nar male is also wandering around, towering over even the other Arvecs. He's in a similar getup, and looking over Ned's firearms.

Firestarter nods, listening, hooking her thumbs in her belt. "Sounds better than bashin' heads for warlords around the Dran. Yeh, I'll stick around. So the nicey nicey, it's not a human scam? Huh."

Munch eyes the striped folks with idle curiousity, trying to figure their deal, but nods to Firestarter. "I mean some of the noble types are all talk, rich schmucks who look down on everyone. But the guilds an temples seem pretty real about it all." Not that the golem is exactly the best judge of chracter.

"Sounds like Nobles." Firestarter agrees, following Munch's gaze and looking at the stripe-pants goblins. She has no insight to share. Her gaze drifts to stalls nearby. "Good to know. You want a dried animal thing, or a feather? Artificer junk? There's lots of those."

Munch shakes his head. "Thanks, no. The peppers are neat, and some of the alcohol is good, but most of the food stuff I skip. Rather just catch my own." He.... might have just lumped 'Artificer junk' in with 'food stuff'... then again, he does eat just about -anything-.

Firestarter seems to catch the suggestive context and laughs. "Well, I'm getting a dried animal thing, and putting some spice on it."

She purchases a strip of jerky that's made from some part of some animal, mostly meat, with only a few ugly fat bits and possibly gristle. "Peppers sound good. Well, you gonna show me around or is it 'seeya around', how long you were planning to shop gobber?"

Munch shrugs. "Market is new, you know the place well as I do, unless you're talking the city. I came for a look, was gonna fly out to the mountain roads north of the city. Talk of some bandits up that way, but havn't found anything."

"Could be city, could be mountains. Bashin' bandits sound fun. I'm up for that if you find any." Firestarter grins, she doesn't sharpen her teeth, apparently. She points her jerky-stick at the stage in the centre of the square, "I saw 'em set up, that, some of the stalls. No idea what is with it. Makes my eyes bug. Somethin' going on wif it."

Munch nods. "Some kind of illusion over it all. Keeping trade secrets, I figure. Might be something more to it all, but none of my busniess." He considers. "Unless a a fight breaks out over it, then might become my business."

"Eh, prolly won't." Firestarter rolls her shoulders, kicks a scuff on the ground. She takes a wicked bite of her jerky, "People been stayin' off it. Someone got up, told some jokes, didn't go over. No one's gone up after. Seen a couple kids run on it, that's about it. Maybe it's magick'd to be left alone."

Munch considers, and shrugs, heading towards the stage. "Let's go find out. can spar or something, put on a show. Or just look aorund and leave, whatever."

"Sure." The orange arvec woman follows, chewing down her snack.

It's easy enough to cut through the crowd, although slow going. No goblin wants to be in Munch's way, but they have an entirely different idea of relative speeds and keep cutting in front of him as he's about to put a foot down.

Munch is... not exactly used to it, but it's hardly a new problem. To be fair, it happens with gnomes and halflings to... children, elves, short humans... not dwarves, they're pretty solid and don't tend to cut in front of much of anything. Cut into maybe, but that was just the one time, total misunderstanding. Anyway, the meatl man does make a point to avoid stepping on anyone, but with a goal in his head, there's not a lot to distract him.

Firestarter accompanies Munch at his side, and is a little less gentle with her kin. She's not above putting an elbow or knee into a goblin to move them, and once gives an oruch a shove out of her way as well. This somewhat shields the golem from random things at his feet from her side, but, not much. There's a lot of goblins, they own the place and act like it, and most seem to see Munch as an ambitious statue, or perhaps, parts. One artificer goblin, a man with goggles that have several lenses for each eye, points a screwdriver at a bit of the golem, "You willin' ta sell that bitoya?"

Munch is generally easy going, all things considered. He is, however, less than utterly pacient with Artificers. After the first hundred times or so, he offered an even trade, they can take bits of him apart, if he can take bits of them apart.... they were... susprisingly willing... Now he just sticks to a non-negotiable "No."

The artificer hops around to confront Firestarter, "Are you selling him?"

She glares, and her earthbreaker is off her back, ready to swing.

The guy backs off immediately, stumbling into a different artificer's stall, where he finds something else to barter for.

Firestarter keeps her weapon handy. "That's annoying. So. Spar till you doan wanna, or what's the Alexandria rules?"

Munch shrugs again. "It happens. Colluseum makes you use their weapons. Enchanted not to draw blood. Was a whole thing about it a while back, demon of aggression or something. Figure maybe stick to wresteling, less likely break something important, on you -OR- me."

"Alright, sounds good. Wouldn't want to be beatin' on your axe within minutes of say hi anyhow." Firestarter thumps her earthbreaker down beside the stage. Hops up. Goblins would need to use the stairs, or hijump. She's fine at her size. A frown crosses her face as she moves on the stage.

Munch sets Reaver up on stage, where it can watch, and follows up, taking a quick look around to see what's to be seen.

On stage, nothing is really different. There's a slightly better vantage point on the crowd. It's possible to see all the way to the ends of the square, into almost every wagon, shack, and stall. Even the permanent storefronts are clearer and stand out. Everything is visible.

And... everything on stage is visible, to anyone that cares to look. A lot of heads turn, because something is going on. Stepping up transitions one from a face in the crowd, to the focus of the crowd. A lot of goblins keep going about their business, the wares are hawked loudly, coins exchanged, but many are keeping an eye stage-wards.

Something is about to happen!

They don't want to miss it.

Munch peers about a moment, and shrugs, stomping a little to make sure the stage beneath his feet is sturdy as he paces around a few moments, stretching. "Not too late to back out if you want. We came, we saw, we can leave." The stage seems sturdy.

"Yeaaahh...." Firestarter says slowly. She doesn't want to back down, "I wanted some fun. Not to be their fun. This is a bit much for playin' around."

She heads for the edge of the stage, and the closer she gets to it the more sure she seems of the decision. Finally hopping down.

Offstage, she's ignored. All eyes are on Munch now.

Munch considers a few moments and shrugs, grabbing up reaver and placing him upon his back once more. Nodding to Firestarter in the crowd, the golem stretchs and shifts, bones and snew stretching and rearranging beneath the skin. "Catch up with you later." Dropping to all fours, the golems typically non-existant neck stretches out, dreadlocks forming a set of fins to each side of his head, and a stubby littel tail growing to many times its previous size. The process takes only seconds, and Munch shoves off into the air, wings flapping to catch the breeze and lift him further upward, now a Clockwork Dragon of mithril and green.

A cheer goes up from the crowd! A dragon appearing out of nowhere, that's entertainment! A clockwork mithril and green dragon, even better! The artificers are cheering the loudest. Deaf Ned fires off another deafening salute, balloons pop, and gobbers make lots and lots of noise.

Far down at the other end of the square, a white-scaled, female sith-makar looks up in awe at the dragon flying off, and fails to recognize him. She is sitting on a barrel and looks like some kind of adventurer with her white leather armour and fancy hat. An enterprising goblin has set up tent-stall right beside her. A handwritten, clearly free-hand, sign advertizes 'Lizard Tails'. Indeed there are several open boxes of lizard tails, some dried, some fresh, mostly from small things like geckos and anoles. There is one sign with an arrow, pointing at the sith's tail, with a 10gp price. The market goes on.

Dramatis Personae

Namira
Standing only 5' tall, this dark elf has long white hair that can easily go down to her hips, if she chose to. However, for practicality's sake, she usually has it in a braid, or in some sort of hair style to keep it out of her way. She has dark skin, with large blue eyes. She has full lips as well and an angular face.
A cut in toward the waist, and back out at the hips, obscured by the black clerical vestments with grey lining that she wears. At her hip is the customary Khopesh for the Vardaman clerics, and around her neck is the medallion for their clerics.