robberbaron
First Post
Another new friend?
Boldo Chanunga’s breath came in pained gasps; the wound to his skull from the gnarled knobkerrie of the hook nosed human slavers had almost killed him. Bound in manacles and thrown to the floor of a creaking wagon, he awoke from peaceful oblivion to the agony of a rough road and the tight-packed company of others of his people similarly tossed like so many sacks of goods into the stinking cage. The cloth-swathed raiders had descended on the peaceful Pygmi village just before dawn, scimitars cutting down those who resisted, whips and ropes rapidly binding any who could be subdued. Women, children, men, all were taken.
An agonising journey followed, many weeks across hard desert. The swathed ones excelled at keeping their charges at the edge of life, force-feeding them a weak and greasy gruel that lacked enough sustenance to give the energy necessary for escape.
Sold to a trader from the centre sea and then on to an inland owner he was set to work as a miner, his small stature allowing him to work the smaller seams normally worked only by children. One day, breaking through to a new chamber, the miners stumbled into a nest of goblins. The one-sided fight left many of the child miners dead but the goblins were routed by a swift counterattack from the mine-owner’s brute squad. Seeing his chance, Boldo escaped during the melee. Lurking in the dark tunnels of the goblins’ former lair he struck off his manacles with rough goblin tools and wandered the labyrinth for many days. Following the upstream flow of an underground river he eventually emerged into the night sky many leagues distant, murdering a pair of goblin guards and stealing their equipment at the exit.
Feeling unable to fit easily into bronze skinned human society he hovered on the edge of civilisation, making occasional forays into villages only to steal better equipment or food. In one such place he discovered a tunnel hidden in the shadows of a seemingly normal farm building and ventured within, not thinking about what might live down there.
------
When he had crept down the ramp, Boldo Chanunga quickly realised his error, as goblins and larger creatures seemed to fill the chambers dug out of the earth beneath the farm. His escape back up the ramp cut off by a returning hobgoblin patrol, Boldo scrambled under the tarpaulin covering a large cart and pretended to be a sack of smelly herbs.
Managing to burrow further into the pile of sacks, Boldo slept for a short while only to be woken by the sound of battle. Able to get an eye below the cover he could see the shadows cast by many figures dancing in combat in the barn above and hear the squeaks of consternation from the goblin women and children all around him. He backed tightly into the sack pile and waited for the fighting to die down.
Some time later, he must have been dozing, he suddenly smelt smoke. The noises from the goblins were frantic, but a different voice, a man’s voice, seemed to be calming them down and organising them. Boldo thought it best to keep hidden for the time being. If they took the cart with them that would be best, but if they left he might be able to get out on his own.
The goblins moved out of their lair and, shortly after, Boldo heard the noise of the barn roof collapsing. Poking his head out of the cart he could see that the exit had been blocked by smouldering beams. Oh well, nothing to do but wait for it to cool down. Might as well have a look around.
Boldo moved through the chambers of the goblin lair, not finding anything of interest, until he heard what sounded like the beams being removed from the exit. Secreting himself around a corner, he watched as sunlight streamed down the ramp followed by several large figures. Humans!
Realising that his short, deep brown body might not be easy to distinguish from a goblin’s in the gloom of the chamber, Boldo decided to remain hidden until he could get more information about the new arrivals.
They moved through the chamber quite stealthily, though at least two of them were hulking brutes with swords twice as long as he was, and seemed to be searching the other chambers.
When the humans returned from the goblin family chamber, Boldo got the distinct impression that they had seen him, but were pretending that they hadn’t. They moved into the human overseer’s chamber and Boldo took this opportunity to scuttle quietly across to the cart, reaching its shadows just as the humans emerged from the overseer’s chamber and moved towards where he had only just now been hiding!
Now he was close enough to hear their conversation, and realising that they were speaking Graecae (one of the languages he knew), he decided to trust to his abilities and stood on top of the cart, addressing the humans.
“Hello, there! Me Boldo Chanunga. Me want job, you need me”.
------
“There’s a goblin over there, hiding in that opening,” said Gaelle. “Act as if we haven’t seen it”.
The party moved into a small chamber across from the ramp, keeping half an eye on the little dark shape almost hidden in the shadows, finding it just as empty of anything interesting (worth money) as the other chambers.
Coming back out, they decided to head towards the goblin, still not making it appear that they knew it was there.
What they found was the chamber where the hobgoblins lived, dozens of large nests dotted the cavern floor. There was, however, no goblin to be seen.
Turning to leave, they could clearly hear a strangely accented voice calling to them. They emerged into the entrance chamber to see a short figure, shorter even than a goblin, dressed in leather armour with so many weapons that they probably weighed more than he did.
------
Chatting to the strange little man, they realised that Boldo could well be a valuable inclusion into their group. Despite Helga’s best efforts, they were not blessed with a dedicated roguish type and little brown person seemed to fit the bill.
Boldo Chanunga’s breath came in pained gasps; the wound to his skull from the gnarled knobkerrie of the hook nosed human slavers had almost killed him. Bound in manacles and thrown to the floor of a creaking wagon, he awoke from peaceful oblivion to the agony of a rough road and the tight-packed company of others of his people similarly tossed like so many sacks of goods into the stinking cage. The cloth-swathed raiders had descended on the peaceful Pygmi village just before dawn, scimitars cutting down those who resisted, whips and ropes rapidly binding any who could be subdued. Women, children, men, all were taken.
An agonising journey followed, many weeks across hard desert. The swathed ones excelled at keeping their charges at the edge of life, force-feeding them a weak and greasy gruel that lacked enough sustenance to give the energy necessary for escape.
Sold to a trader from the centre sea and then on to an inland owner he was set to work as a miner, his small stature allowing him to work the smaller seams normally worked only by children. One day, breaking through to a new chamber, the miners stumbled into a nest of goblins. The one-sided fight left many of the child miners dead but the goblins were routed by a swift counterattack from the mine-owner’s brute squad. Seeing his chance, Boldo escaped during the melee. Lurking in the dark tunnels of the goblins’ former lair he struck off his manacles with rough goblin tools and wandered the labyrinth for many days. Following the upstream flow of an underground river he eventually emerged into the night sky many leagues distant, murdering a pair of goblin guards and stealing their equipment at the exit.
Feeling unable to fit easily into bronze skinned human society he hovered on the edge of civilisation, making occasional forays into villages only to steal better equipment or food. In one such place he discovered a tunnel hidden in the shadows of a seemingly normal farm building and ventured within, not thinking about what might live down there.
------
When he had crept down the ramp, Boldo Chanunga quickly realised his error, as goblins and larger creatures seemed to fill the chambers dug out of the earth beneath the farm. His escape back up the ramp cut off by a returning hobgoblin patrol, Boldo scrambled under the tarpaulin covering a large cart and pretended to be a sack of smelly herbs.
Managing to burrow further into the pile of sacks, Boldo slept for a short while only to be woken by the sound of battle. Able to get an eye below the cover he could see the shadows cast by many figures dancing in combat in the barn above and hear the squeaks of consternation from the goblin women and children all around him. He backed tightly into the sack pile and waited for the fighting to die down.
Some time later, he must have been dozing, he suddenly smelt smoke. The noises from the goblins were frantic, but a different voice, a man’s voice, seemed to be calming them down and organising them. Boldo thought it best to keep hidden for the time being. If they took the cart with them that would be best, but if they left he might be able to get out on his own.
The goblins moved out of their lair and, shortly after, Boldo heard the noise of the barn roof collapsing. Poking his head out of the cart he could see that the exit had been blocked by smouldering beams. Oh well, nothing to do but wait for it to cool down. Might as well have a look around.
Boldo moved through the chambers of the goblin lair, not finding anything of interest, until he heard what sounded like the beams being removed from the exit. Secreting himself around a corner, he watched as sunlight streamed down the ramp followed by several large figures. Humans!
Realising that his short, deep brown body might not be easy to distinguish from a goblin’s in the gloom of the chamber, Boldo decided to remain hidden until he could get more information about the new arrivals.
They moved through the chamber quite stealthily, though at least two of them were hulking brutes with swords twice as long as he was, and seemed to be searching the other chambers.
When the humans returned from the goblin family chamber, Boldo got the distinct impression that they had seen him, but were pretending that they hadn’t. They moved into the human overseer’s chamber and Boldo took this opportunity to scuttle quietly across to the cart, reaching its shadows just as the humans emerged from the overseer’s chamber and moved towards where he had only just now been hiding!
Now he was close enough to hear their conversation, and realising that they were speaking Graecae (one of the languages he knew), he decided to trust to his abilities and stood on top of the cart, addressing the humans.
“Hello, there! Me Boldo Chanunga. Me want job, you need me”.
------
“There’s a goblin over there, hiding in that opening,” said Gaelle. “Act as if we haven’t seen it”.
The party moved into a small chamber across from the ramp, keeping half an eye on the little dark shape almost hidden in the shadows, finding it just as empty of anything interesting (worth money) as the other chambers.
Coming back out, they decided to head towards the goblin, still not making it appear that they knew it was there.
What they found was the chamber where the hobgoblins lived, dozens of large nests dotted the cavern floor. There was, however, no goblin to be seen.
Turning to leave, they could clearly hear a strangely accented voice calling to them. They emerged into the entrance chamber to see a short figure, shorter even than a goblin, dressed in leather armour with so many weapons that they probably weighed more than he did.
------
Chatting to the strange little man, they realised that Boldo could well be a valuable inclusion into their group. Despite Helga’s best efforts, they were not blessed with a dedicated roguish type and little brown person seemed to fit the bill.
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