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Post by Linde (x-GM) on Aug 23, 2016 12:51:28 GMT
a big fire at the center illuminate most of the large cave. At two of the walls torches are placed 8 ft apart and hobgoblins stand guard, all looking at a figure near the edge of where the fire illuminate. From the darkness beyond, a voice reply: "So.. You don't have my spoils of war, even though you have had weeks to sail them here. Instead you have casualty rapports and I have to hear from my brother that you used my name to command my honor guard as reinforcement onto Albion instead of sending them to the isle of man as ordered?" The figure at the edge of the light is trembling slightly. The voice from the darkness continue: "Your son will stay behind, and have you not given me my restitution before the first snow your son will be skinned, his eyes poked out and fed to my raven. His ribs will be sharpened into shivs and one of them will find its way to your heart and the heart of everyone who shares blood with you. Give me mine, and only you shall die for your crimes." The slight trembling is no longer slight as the figure bows terrified and takes his leave.
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Post by Linde (x-GM) on Aug 23, 2016 17:21:50 GMT
Once the visitor has left the figure in the shadows emerges. Walking slowly to the fire at the center of the cave the large hobgoblin is clutching a small piece of parchment.
Holding the hand in the flames the parchment slowly burns while Gnarl snarls in pain from the fires and spits out his words like an angry dog. "It must be now, abandon the isle and do Wessex instead. Then go to Lothia and secure it." Dropping the paper and retracting his hand he hurries out back and has his burns tended.
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Post by Linde (x-GM) on Aug 23, 2016 18:07:11 GMT
As a small goblin is carefully bandaging the hand Gnarl suddenly jump to his feet and screams with wroth into the air: "GRAGHH.. Don't bore me with the details of the spell. I'll send the traitor to Lothia if you say you can't go!" As he jumped up the goblin was so startled that he dropped the bandage and a small tray with ointments onto the foot of the high chief.
Gnarls sighs and looks down at the goblin who is scrambling to pick up the items he dropped. Weighing the situation for a few seconds gnarl lift up his foot and stomps on the goblin once for each of his following words said with even more anger than he shouted into the air, but also with a hint of content: "Look" *STOMP* "Where" *STOMP* "I" *STOMP* "Stand!" *STOMP* The goblin, who stopped trying to escape after the first two kicks, gurgle and twitch on the ground as Gnarl address a very scared looking goblin that just entered the room: "Don't just stand there. Bandage my hand, and then you can wash that fool off my boot."
As the goblin finishes the bandaging and start wiping the chiefs boots Gnarl says in a stern but calm voice: "The boy.. Send him to dispose of that.." Gnarl motions to the gurgling goblin. "The wolves pits will do fine. And tell him he would wish he was so lucky if he ever displease me."
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