>>5704813
>>A buff red skinned man with horns is even now raking a pale man in rags over coals
Welcome back (its only been a day)

>>5705203
also one update per day might work better since we don't know how often people check.

>>5704813
>Atop a lonely hill of harvested wheat is a white mansion, the door and windows are boarded up...
>Goblin Bakers

Rolled 1, 32 = 33 (2d50)

>>5704813
>>Goblin Bakers

>>5704813
Wot about Quiet?


> >Is that a cloud? Goblin King, Goblin King, we goblins can't fly either! Eh, a castle in the clouds?

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FWjiXOqRKhk

Rolled 36, 28 = 64 (2d50)

>>5704813
> Goblin bakers

Rolled 5, 8 = 13 (2d17)

>>5704813

>>5705338
i like your roll better than mine

Rolled 12, 2 = 14 (2d50)

>>5704813
>Uhh, isn't that underwater, Goblin King, we can't breathe underwater! Eh? Is that a really big clam blowing bubbles?
>Goblin Bakers
Nice to see this back, especially now that there's more focus on the mass goblin shenanigans.
Still I'll miss Quiet's little adventure.

Rolled 1 (1d4)

>>5705203
>>5705268
>>5705335
>>5705466
Sorry for the delay, rolling tiebreaker now. While I write here's the details of the winning goblin variant.

Goblin Bakers
1d6 strength goblin cooks. When baking rolls of 6 or above result in a living baked good. Each living baked good can preserve the life of a baker. If the number of living baked goods is greater than the bakers, the goods revolt and flee. Goblin bakers are willing to use any powder as flour. Even with with normal ingredients, the foul taste of goblin cooking is able to incapacitate powerful beings and even exorcise the undead or raise the dead. Raised dead will naturally be hostile.

Rolled 2, 5, 5 = 12 (3d6)

>>5705768
Goblin Bakers in Heck! They won't have a shortage of fires at least.

Rolling for random quest.

>>5705773
nice. after the fight between hades and heck i thought that the red guys are absolutely not ready for a goblin incursion

>>5705776
There's also the nobles going with the ferryman instead.

Rolled 635 (1d777)

>>5705203
>>5705268
>>5705335
>>5705466
Total Goblins: 48
Total Bakers: 26 (the wrong number was rolled, but the result was a baker's dozen)
Total Living Goods: 0
Total Baked Goods: 0
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment

A day like any other in the realm of torture, Heck. The denizens of Heck, those that call themselves angels and who everyone else calls demons were of course tireless in their labours. The screams of the penitent and unrepentant alike drifted through wide crimson marble floors and smooth giant pillars, were they red to begin with, or turned so by the sufferings of those within? These red halls were none other than the Kitchen of Heck, were the dead endure all kinds of cooking and are fed to themselves over and over.

In one room among countless others, a torturer was inspecting a man with flesh white and pale as maggots. The man quite naturally was on a barbecue rack over coals that burned with a righteous fervour. His body had long since ceased to resemble any living race, looking more like someone had shaped a still melting candle into the shape of a man.

The torturer, a massive muscled red skinned man wearing a golden groincloth and a similarly golden apron with the words 'Heat or Hate' on it had a troubled look on his oddly handsome face. He was bald, but had a pair of spiralling horns poking out either side of his head. He was rolling the screaming man over the grill, his whip-like tail wagged from side to side as he laboured.

"Look, how many years has it been Dunn? If you could just let go, you could be stewed instead of grilled like this"

The reply was just more screams, that and tears from his eyes that formed into more coals to continue his torment.

"You aren't a wizard anymore, isn't time to lay down your pride? Look at how much progress your fellows have made!"

The torturer pointed to a trio of pots that stood over separate flames. Leathery bloated undead bobbed amid a strange thick stew. They weren't screaming, but what remained of their faces were locked in grimaces of agony, as if they were having a horrible nightmare.

Cute midget men and women tended these pots, cutting off slices of flesh to feed the fires and occasionally pushing the sufferers down for a taste of boiling stew. These imps had flaming hair, and their faces while cute had that pointy nosiness and ears like a goblin. They wore black tunics that split at the sides. Unlike the torturer they only had small nubs of horns.

The torturer sighed to himself.
"Wretch that I am that my art is not greater, I fear there's many decades before the stewpot, I'm sorry Dunn, if only I could scour you more artfully I'm sure you'd let go!"

Just as he was about to turn Dunn over once more, there was a crackle and a mob of goblins appeared!

"Smelly?" "Something cooking?" "Meaty" "Big guy" "Steamy" "Weird gobs?" "Very red" "Hot"

The torturer's shining golden eyes glittered as he gazed at the goblins.

1/?

>>5705837
"Uninvited guests? Is this the will of Provenance? I am Xack, a lowly cook of Heck's Kitchen! I cannot give you goldkin a proper welcome as I have to see to this unrighteous one's cleansing, make yourselves at home!"

Xack looked completely unbothered by sudden appearance of so many goblins.

XACK THE HUMBLE TORTURER
All voted actions that do not conflict happen. Votes determine the ratio of goblins to a given voted option, for example four different options splits the goblins four ways. You can separate regular goblins and bakers in your vote.
Trial of Fate
On roll of 1 or 2, goblins die (they respawn back at the Goblin King's Castle, but are lost for the adventure). The rolls must meet or beat the average.
>Sample some stew
>Collect some coals?
>Stew bath? Neat!

Trial of Talent
QM rolls 1d6 target and 1d#ofGoblins for successes required. In a regular Trial of Talent only KOs are possible on a 1, no deaths.
>Collect some ashes and bake something
>Clearly this man needs help cooking
>Roast some snacks, nice coals

Trial of Discernment
>Ask about the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
>Demand Welcoming Gift
>Pester Xack to do something interesting

Extra
>Gob it out (write in)

GOBLIN KING'S MOOD: BRIGHT II
Rolled 635! Good! Mood raised 2 levels!
The beginning has become one of the King's favourite things.

>>5705840
>Clearly this man needs help cooking
He is a cook, we are bakers.
It's clear what we must help him make sinner pie.

>>5705840
> Search the room as only a Goblin can for Zacks recipe book

>>5705840
>>Gob it out (write in)
Have a taste of Dunn to see if he's really Dunn or not.
>>Sample some stew
>>Collect some ashes and bake something
>>Ask about the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
might as well, right?
>>5705840
>>Gob it out (write in)
Have a taste of Dunn to see if he's really Dunn or not.

>>5705840
>>Pester Xack to do something interesting

Rolled 1, 1 = 2 (2d6)

Rolling targets for talent rolls, a roll of 1 is an auto success and waives the need to roll goblin dice. Targets must be met or beaten.

>>5705864
18d6 counting the last six as bakers

>>5705864
18d6 counting the last six as bakers

>>5706055
Only one action goes through, a taste of Dunn. Fate roll of 18d6 goblins, counting the last six as bakers. However I'll allow asking about the tulip as it is talking and talking is almost like a free action. That and it gives direction.

>>5706391
12 goblins and 6 bakers focus on this.

2 bakers are stunned by indecision.

Rolled 6, 4, 2, 2, 2, 5, 2, 4, 5, 1 = 33 (10d6)

>>5706547

Rolled 3, 4, 4, 5, 2, 2, 5, 5, 2, 1, 2, 4, 2, 4, 6, 1, 3, 5 = 60 (18d6)

>>5706547
Lol!

Two auto successes, rolling the fate roll to see how many goblins die.

>>5706547
>>5705949
Wtf mine just gets skipped?

Rolled 4, 1, 4, 3, 2, 3, 5, 1, 5, 2, 4, 5, 6, 1, 5, 5, 4, 5 = 65 (18d6)

>>5706547
Fate roll
Tasting dunn was what I wanted most, we have to find out if he's Dunn or not Dunn. Xack called him Dunn but says he's not Dunn yet.

>>5706579
I made a mistake in quoting >>5706547
One of those is supposed to be the search. Don't worry, it's already written up.

>>5706598
It'll delay things a little, but I'll rewrite things to use this roll.

Rolled 312 (1d777)

>>5706547
>>5706598
>Help cooking! Talent: 12 goblins, 6 bakers! Target = 1! Auto success!
>Hidden recipes, search! Talent: 12 goblins, 6 bakers! Target = 1! Auto success!
>Dunn done? Fate: 12 goblins, 6 bakers! Success! 1 baker died! 3 Goblins died!
>Pester Xack! 12 goblins, 6 bakers
>Ask about the tulip (first talking action is free)
Two bakers are stunned by indecision!
Total Deaths: 1 baker, 3 goblins
Total Available Goblins: 45
Total Available Bakers: 25
Total Living Goods: 0
Total Baked Goods: 0
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment

Only freaks like goblin fishers are passive! The goblins sprung into action almost moments after they finished taking in the kitchenette. Most of them clustered around Xack and the wailing Dunn, finding them the most interesting of things.

"Where tulip?" "That side need more cooking" "Do something" "Fun" "Tulip big name" "Big red do thing!" "Flip undead?" "Press head!" "Terrible toilet?" "Torment?" "Tasty?"

A portion of the goblins and bakers considered themselves a cut above the rest of their fellows, they searched around the room crawling on all fours, making the imps feel quite uncomfortable. The goblins searched around for what they were sure had to be in a kitchen. A cookbook! Mere seconds of rattling pots, pulling cupboards open and rifling through tongs and pokers that looked more suitable to cause pain than cook, a goblin let out a cry of triumph. In his grubby mitts was a ominous looking tome of fleshy leather. The other searchers gathered around and tossed the victor in the air a few time before settling down.

It is worth pointing out, that even with the curse of misunderstanding melding all languages into one sight and sound, most goblins can't read. To the delight of the goblins, the cookbook (it was more of an instruction manual) had lots of pictures of how to cook the unrighteous.

Spoils gained; Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging!

While these goblins had searched and gathered around to read, the rest of the goblins had kept up their bothering of torturer and torturee.

"Troublesome Trumpet of Tune?" "No no!" "Tubble Twabble Tibble?" "Wrong!" "Three Tees!" "Bothersome"

Some of the goblins were arguing as to what they were told to seek. They hadn't quite gotten there.

"Do cool thing!" "Silly thing!" "Sing!" "Dance!" "Play!" "Riddle!" "Show, show!"

To the goblins demanding Xack perform for them, the torturer actually silently heeded. With artful thrusts and twists he rolled Dunn over the grill. At one point he even lifted Dunn with the fork and spun him in the air. A fine display of rippling muscle and wailing undead. A few ooohs and ahhs came from the goblins.

Many however were not content with merely watching. They took up the tools scattered by the searching goblins and clustered around the grill, they pulled aside Dunn's melty limbs and pressed them hard on the grill. Not even the fingers and toes were spared.
1/?

>>5706696
What they lacked in art and strength they made up for in sheer numbers. Under the direction of the bakers, after this splaying Dunn was folded into himself making an undead dumpling.

"Ah, how wondrous! I should apply for more imps, you have enlighten me goblins, my than... wait stop that!"

He paused in his praise because some of the goblins had gotten a little too curious as to the taste of the cooked product. They didn't quite get that the flesh was being served to the sufferers themselves. The denizens of Heck didn't eat it themselves.

Meat was sliced off and promptly swallowed whole. You might think goblins would at least avoid eating the flesh of undead, but while goblins have a surprisingly good idea of what is and isn't poisonous, given that they don't truly die, they don't have much aversion to sticking random things in their gobby gobs. Some goblins even become obsessed with eating poisonous and toxic foods.

This however, was a level of agony beyond physical. A piercing sense of wrongness, visions of failings great and small. By themselves, visions of snippets of Dunn's life would merely be interesting, but what dogged them was a hounding realisation. A gap of separation. A truth greater than poison. Actions stripped of rationalisations. All fed a deep wound within. Each harm visited on others was harm on oneself.

The terror, the pain, it was not fully in the naked truth of the incomplete, of the trespass. By the fine art of the heckish angels was their understanding of Provenance. To be before perfection was agony to the imperfect. A terrifying and alien glory.

It was the contrast of the small meanness with an incomprehensible will that produced the greatest agony. Knowledge of Provenance was as poison, even the denizens of Heck dared not dwell too much. Some claimed this horror as proof of Provenance's good and man's evil. Others claimed the reverse, still more said it was not a matter of good or evil, they said that Provenance was too complex for the minds of lesser beings to endure. It was obvious where the denizens of Heck stood on the matter, but who could trust those torturers? All this doubt wasn't even taking into account Pursuance either...

The only thing one could be sure of was that Provenance was real, but as to what Provenance was, not even the denizens of Heck fully agreed. Was such a mystery worthy of worship and obedience?

But amid the agony of exposure, Dunn's refusal could be felt. To be sure, he wished for his torments to end, but his flesh still rebelled. He did not submit to judgement. He denied both horror of his own will and the revelation of Provenance. A stubborn pride refused to acknowledge acts stripped of rationalisations. Wound cried out and denied that it existed. It was clear even to the goblins that Dunn had no remorse. He still clutched to the source of his torments believing it treasure, thus his torments would continue.

2/?

>>5706700
Three goblins and one baker sang out in a praise that defied the translation of the curse of misunderstanding. They burst into motes of golden light, their bodies not enduring revelation.

The rest of the goblins who partook of the flesh of Dunn twisted and grimaced as they wept bloody tears that turned into unlit ruby coals. But in their pain they mumbled in wonder at Provenance.

>Due to a revelation beyond comprehension 11 goblins and 5 bakers have become devotees of Provenance. Not that they really get what that means, they've just been convinced of Provenance's transcendental presence. Should the number of goblins pass below ten, at least two will be devotees this run. Goblin Priests have become unlocked for future runs, the Priests will be of a random faith (even beings you have not yet encountered) , and thus of different effects.

>Gained spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment

A sigh came from Xack.

"To be expected from goldkin. Sleep little ones, pass your pain away. The time of your harrowing is yet to come."

He reached out to the pained goblins and pulled on some unseen thing, and blearily the reckless survivors woke as if from a nightmare. Not one of them would ever be the same, even should they die and respawn.

"Terrifying Tulip of Torment!" "That the one!" "Where is!" "Tell us, tell us!"

As if enlightened by the suffering of their comrades, the other goblins finally pinned down the name of what they were seeking. Xack looked at them with a bit of puzzlement.

"I find the will of your monarch only a bit less mysterious than the will of Provenance, still, both have brought you before me, I know not of this flower you seek, if it even is a flower, but the Garden of Regret would be a prudent place to check, you'll have to pass through the Forges of Compassion and the Pools of Grief. I may as well have someone guide you"

He clicked his fingers and a circle of flame appeared.

"Oohh" "Magic circle!" "Nice!" "What inside?"

"Come forth Lemmick! Provenance has granted you a chance to reduce your debt!"

First came a head of beautiful lavender hair, long and flowing, surely had it been on a living man or woman it would have ensnared the hearts of any poet or artist and bewitched even enchanters. As it was, this strangely lively hair was attached to a burnt corpse that looked like it would collapse into ash at any moment. Covering the eyes of this undead was a cloth of gold. Such was the ruination that one couldn't tell if this undead was once man or woman. It was chewing on its own left hand, but removed the appendage to speak, a rasping voice of rot and crackling flame.

"Gentle Xack, speak and this wretch will act, though it will do little to unburden me"

"Please guide these goblins to the Garden of Regret"

Lem's head turned to pass over the goblins, who in turn were looking at Lem's hair intently.

"Will they survive the journey?"
"Perhaps not, but you know well that the effort is what matters"

3/?

>>5706702
"Yes, since the result will never be as it should, an effort"

Lem put a hand inside its mouth and pulled out a hooded blood red robe which it wore right away. It turned its back to the goblins.

"Many are the paths we can take to the garden, but all the domains of Heck have but two gates, come, you who still live, I shall tell you were I can guide you on this ascent."

The goblins were as happy to follow or ignore, but though the King did not require it of them, they liked to try and complete the quest he had given.

DESTINATION
A tie in destinations will result in a goblin dispute, each voted option gets a share of goblins and then the goblins sort it out. As it is a transition there will be no KOs. Some choices will be closer to the Gates of Determination than others.

>Ignore Lemmick and head in a random direction 3d7 encounter (dangerous)
>Pass through the City of Dranaxel's Repose
>Go by way of Highchef town
>Tour the Pits of Soups (3d6 encounter)
>Pass through the Volcanic Bolognese Mountains (2d6 encounter)
>Cross the River of Spiteful Oil (2d6 encounter)
>Enter the Butchery Maze of Meat (3d6 encounter)

GOBLIN KING'S MOOD: BRIGHT II
>Rolled 312! Lukewarm! Mood unchanged!
The Goblin King had a period where he tried to amuse himself by following various deities, but such an insincere effort was doomed to produce poor results. As powerful as he is, even he would not dare say that he doesn't find Provenance a little scary, though he believes the truly terrifying thing is not the nature of Provenance, but the expanse of its plotting.

>>5706703
>>Go by way of Highchef town
this sounds like it's where the demons of heck live. maybe one of them will know about the Tulip?
I guess Dunn wasn't Dunn after all.

>>5706703
>Go by way of Highchef town
The goblins enter a cooking competition

>>5706703
>>Tour the Pits of Soups (3d6 encounter)

File: goblin3_1_23_2014_by_bisc(...).png (168 KB, 1000x1000)

168 KB PNG

>>5706703
>Tour the Pits of Soups (3d6 encounter)

Chaos and ties!

Rolled 2, 3, 1, 1, 6, 2, 4, 2, 1, 5, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 1, 5, 4, 6, 3, 2, 6, 3, 1 = 83 (25d6)

Time for a minor goblin disagreement!

>>5706705
>>5706715
25d6 and 10d6

>>5707142
>>5707357
25d6 and 10d6

I still find it a pity that 25 is the limit.

Rolled 4, 2, 2, 6, 5, 1, 4, 6, 6, 6, 5, 5, 6, 1, 2, 4, 5, 1, 5, 2, 4, 5, 3, 4, 5 = 99 (25d6)

>>5707363

Really if it wasn't a place like Heck, a band of goblins would be coldly received.

Rolled 6, 5, 2, 4, 3, 5, 2, 3, 1, 4 = 35 (10d6)

>>5707364

Incidentally, having a tooth taken out tomorrow, so there might not be anything that day.

Rolled 1, 5, 5, 4, 6, 3, 4, 4, 6, 3 = 41 (10d6)

>>5707365

There are no goblin dentists, after all, a goblin's response to most bodily problems is suicide, since their body if it doesn't have defects from birth, becomes whole on respawn.

Rolled 4, 2, 1, 2, 4, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 3, 5, 1, 3, 4, 5, 5, 2, 6, 2, 1, 1, 4, 4, 3 = 73 (25d6)

>>5707363

I took an ill-advised nap and now my brain is mush. No update today sorry.

>>5707367
Jealous much? Speaking from experience yes death would be a sweet release from tooth pain.

>>5707501
It happens.

Good news, tooth extracted with no complections.

Bad news, still some work to be done.

Good news, the next visit should be the last.

Update as normal tomorrow.

>>5708357
that is good, overall.

>>5708357
Good to hear!

Rolled 426 (1d777)

>>5706705
>>5706715
>>5707142
>>5707357
Total Available Goblins: 45
Total Available Bakers: 25
Total Living Goods: 0
Total Baked Goods: 0
Total Devotees of Provenance: 11 goblins, 5 bakers
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging
>The Soup Pits

A single grand hall that branched orderly off into other halls. In spite of the cries of torment, the solemn peace of the wide and plain hall mollified even the goblins. No carvings, no statues. The only features of this temple monastery-like passage was the absurd scale of it. An echo of the inscrutable master the angels of Heck served.

As they passed tiles the size of fields, the goblins' sense of time and space grew more distorted than it usually was. Insanity inducing things aren't that effective on goblins, unless it is a truly unsurpassed source of madness most goblins are fine after a nap. As it was, the goblins did not lose their minds to the majesty of the solemn hall. Lemmick spoke to them as they journeyed, and by some unknown virtue, the voice of this penitent undead shielded their small minds. Most of what Lemmick said didn't stick, stories and philosophy that was more like a gentle whispering breeze, but now and then something would stick out.

"The torture villains receive is greater, but what truly keeps us bound and tortured here is the countless small crueltieswe commit in our days. Ah, I denounced my wicked ways long ago, but the little daily evils still haunt me."

Lamentations.


"It is by the angels' own will that they scourge the unrighteous, they fear that everyone will meet Provenance on the other side of the River of the End. They fear none can endure its presence, filled as we are with petty meanness. Heavy is their love and fear, I pray they are right, or else their efforts and my suffering are in vain"

Doubts.

"No matter how I tried, each morning the goat would return to how it was in the morning. At first I thought it a boon, but as I grew in wealth and power, all its blue eyes filled me with was horror, and I later learned that everything has a price, I cannot blame all the monstrous things I did on that nameless goat, that servant of distortion, but surely I would not have been as twisted if it never chose me"

Reflections.

"...thus did the gold coin prove he was not false, but alas, the proving was his undoing, two halves of a coin is not a coin itself, but at least all the coins no longer has to endure the wicked usurper, the gilded wooden button"

Stories.

>Spoils gained: The Words of Lemmick (bitter-sweet yearning hope is the essence of the words this penitent undead spoke to the goblins)

1/?

>>5709172
They enjoyed it of course, goblins are easily enough amused, the difficulty is it keeping them focused on one thing, but even the goblins that haven't developed an obsession can be bound. Lemmick had a long life and unlife to draw upon, so its voice shielded them. Doubtless there was some intent to instill virtue in the goblins, but like children, they are as like to eat a butterfly or cry over a caged one. Unlike most children, a goblin will keep putting its hand in fire if it finds it amused by it. Instruction will only get one so far with goblins.

A few minutes or several years, after that baffling amount of time, the odd pilgrims reached their first stop.

The soup pits. The bright red of the solemn hall was shrouded in foggy steam. Nothing could be seen but this meaty smelling fog. Lemmick reached into its chest, hand vanishing within and pulled out a black chain that had lumps all over it, the remains of thorns the undead muttered when asked.

"This is my chain of burdens, hold tight to it, do not worry, there is enough length for you all, we will have to tarry a while here, while your spirits recover from our walk, and while your eyes and lungs become accustomed to the soupfog. I can show you a few sights..."

THE SOUP PITS
Lest the goblins die gruesomely, they must wait a while before moving on, but how will they spend their time?
>Lemmick is good friends with a sinner here
>Lemmick is friends with an angel here
>Dragon soup?
>There's actually a pit with normal soup
>Ditch Lemmick, into the fog huzzah!
>The soup of the masses
>Maybe somewhere suitable to make croutons?

GOBLIN KING'S MOOD: BRIGHT II
Rolled 425! Lukewarm! Mood Unchanged!
He remembers he almost became soup, once in the distant past.

>>5709174
>>The soup of the masses

>>5709174
>Maybe somewhere suitable to make croutons?

>>5709174
>>Maybe somewhere suitable to make croutons?
yes we have bakers so we must bake

>>5709174
> Lemmick has a little bungalow that he sublets out here. He has to stop by and see the renter about a plumbing issue.

As much as writing is fun, today is my birthday, thus there shall only be revelry today. I shall however wish and hope that all of you shall also live to see your birthdays come around.

>>5710209
Happy birthday!

>>5710209
Happy birthday

>>5710209
Happy birthday Steller!

>>5710209
Happy anniversary of the first time you touched a vagina!

>>5709182
>>5709295
>>5709686
>>5710120

In the joy of survival yesterday I forgot to at least have folks roll the goblins against each other. I'll just go with the croutons, since it has two. Next time we have a destination or conflicting choice, we'll get a goblin brawl, described even. One can always use more practice describing brawls.

Rolled 525 (1d777)

>>5709182
>>5709295
>>5709686
>>5709686
Total Available Goblins: 45
Total Available Bakers: 25
Total Living Goods: 0
Total Baked Goods: 0
Total Devotees of Provenance: 11 goblins, 5 bakers
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick
>Crouton creation

The baker goblins had very particular ideas about what soup meant.

"Croutons!" "Hard!" "Crunchy!" "Gnawing!" "Still got one of last time" "Good vintage" "Pocket dust flour?" "Woo!"

On occasion, a goblin crouton is simply pebbles. Many goblin cooks consider croutons and small rocks to be completely interchangeable. While many goblins have trouble making more than the most basic of goblin cuisine such as the mud pie, nice raw or bug al dente. The lowest level of croutons are a bit of fun all goblins can manage. When making 'proper' croutons the part most favoured by goblins is tearing bread or bread-like things into small lumps.

Filled with excitement, the goblins began shaking Lemmick's chain and shouting 'croutons'. Lemmick was beginning to regret using his chain to keep the goblins from getting lost in the soupfog.

"As you wish, I shall bring you to the closest oven"
"Yay!" "Good dead!" "Croutons?" "Nice hair!" "Best hairy!"

The goblin however did not stop shaking the chain. The sheer positivity of their joy reverberated throughout the chain. For a being of negativity it was actually quite painful.

"Penitence! Penitence!" Lemmick muttered, endeavouring to quickly find an oven for the goblins. It was somewhat unfortunate, had Lemmick not made the offer, the goblins would have just made their own, saving Lemmick some pain and effort. As it was Lemmick endured both the positive energy and the physical shaking of its chain, while wracking its skull for the closest oven. Visibility never improved for the goblins, but they got a better sense of their surroundings.

Cracked parched soil. Rather than red like the hall, this was creamy bonemeal like dirt. As dry as it was, curiously if the dirt was rubbed it became grease. Naturally the goblins collected some of this, especially the bakers.

>Acquired spoils: Plentiful Lard of Heck

Finally, the soupfog that carried the unrepentant tears of the tormented thinned out, as Lemmick led the goblins to a house. A first, the house looked oddly normal. Just a typical loghouse. On closer inspection however, the logs were silent people, petrified in the form of logs. This house wasn't for the sake of living in. A building that was little more than a punishment. Circles of ash around the house testified that now and again the house was set aflame. Were new logs made, or did the old regenerate after being burned?

The goblin of course boldly and curiously touched the logs, but they didn't respond.

1/?

Rolled 4, 5, 1 = 10 (3d6)

>>5711103
"Normally the furnace within a silent home is used to burn the logs, but you all should be able to use it for baking. Ah, what a mercy that I cannot eat"

FIRST BAKING
Regular goblins can help with the baking, but only Bakers can produce living goods. If all bakers doing an action die or get KO'd the baking fails, though failures aren't really viewed as such by goblin cooks. As always votes determine how many goblins attempt an option, though less bakers and goblins means less of a particular bread.

Trial of Fate
In a Major 3s are also deaths, In a minor, only 1s are deaths
>Coal Croutons! (Major Trial, Living goods? possible on 3+ On success, deaths may have a surprising result)
>Lard of Heck Loaves (Living goods? Possible on 4+ On success, deaths may have a surprising result)
>Scrape the logs! Cook scrapings! (Minor Trial, Living goods? Possible on 5+ On success, deaths may have a surprising result)

Trial of Talent
In a Major, deaths on 1s on failure
>Pebble Croutons (Major,
> 'Pocket Flour' Bread
> Bric a brac Loaf

>Gob it out (the type and risk of trial depends on the write in, there's other materials that could be used, but they require outside the box thinking or knowledge of the previous threads)

GOBLIN KING'S MOOD: BRIGHT III
Rolled 525! Good! Mood Raised to Max! The King will cast a buff! This may result in a Haunting depending on the baking and the buff roll!
Of the nonsense that goblins get up to, the King prefers the absurd creations rather than the destruction. A new environment brings the possibility of new goblin cooking!

>>5711106
> 'Pocket Flour' Bread

>>5711106
>>Scrape the logs! Cook scrapings! (Minor Trial, Living goods? Possible on 5+ On success, deaths may have a surprising result)
This sounds like a terrible idea. Let's do it.

Rolled 5 (1d6)

At big of bad news for you all. Starting tomorrow, I shall be in a different location than usual for 7-8 days. Due to actually interacting with family during those days I don't know if I'll be able to squeeze in updates.

Don't know if I'll manage an update today even.

In the meantime, roll 22d6 goblins and 12d6 bakers for log baking.

Roll the same again for pocket flour baking if the roll in this post isn't 1.

Rolled 3, 3, 2, 2, 6, 4, 6, 4, 2, 5, 1, 5, 4, 3, 3, 2, 5, 5, 6, 5, 5, 3 = 84 (22d6)

>>5711808

Rolled 4, 1, 6, 3, 4, 2, 4, 1, 5, 5, 4, 6 = 45 (12d6)

>>5711808

Hope you're having a good time and your tooth is better

just checking in again.

Please don't tell me it's dead.

>>5719289
I hope not this is one of my favorite quests.

>>5715837
>>5719259
>>5719289
>>5719343

The Goblin King is Bored! will return after the 26th. Hopefully no other delays.

Sadly the dentist only did the top part of the mouth (not being willing to numb my whole mouth understandably).

One last appointment, supposedly.
Thank you for your patience.

>>5719709
it's good to hear from you again, and I hope the teeth get fixed soon

>>5719709
Glad to see you haven't died yet. Those gosh darn dentists, not being able to fully numb your entire body for mouth operations!
Anyway, take care man.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOtMizMQ6oM

Rolled 28 (1d34)

>>5719804
>>5720129

Well, I'm not done with the tooth man, but unless he finds a FIFTH corner, next should be the last, gotta wait till week after next. Still, aside from having to go multiple times, been pretty good for not having seen one in the lifetime of many pets.

Starting up again tomorrow, roll attached to the post is number of successes needed for baking traditional goblin pocket loaves.

I'll roll the 22d6 and 12d6 for them too, but player rolls will overwrite if you feel like doing it.

Rolled 2, 6, 3, 2, 3, 5, 3, 1, 2, 4, 5, 2, 1, 1, 2, 1, 4, 1, 3, 3, 1, 3 = 58 (22d6)

>>5721138

Glad I don't have to eat goblin bread, not that I can eat anything right now unless I wish to kiss my tongue goodbye

Rolled 3, 2, 4, 4, 1, 4, 2, 2, 6, 3, 1, 5 = 37 (12d6)

>>5721138
>>5721141

When getting numbed, I can't help but recall the story about Guan Yu getting a bone scraped of poison without any type of pain killer. Perhaps it never happened, but of all the events described in Romance if the Three Kingdoms, it doesn't rank that high on the list of unlikely things.

A very large number of things don't cost much to believe in though, even things thought of as outlandish.

Though, it really depends on how desperate one is to not be seen as silly.

A fool's game that.

We are all very silly.

Rolled 352 (1d777)

>>5711139
>>5711151
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck
>Pocket Flour Loaves! Target is 5! Amount is 28! Failure! 1 Loafer produced! 17 Loaves didn't become ashes! Unexpected result triggered due to buff! 7 Loafsome Toasties!
>Logscrapings Rolls! Success! 1 Goblin and 2 Bakers ???! 4 Rolltots baked! 30 Rolls baked!
>Goblin King Buff! GENERATION OF THRIVING BOUNTY I! (Where once there was nothing, offer withering, receive abundance)
Total Available Goblins: 44
Total Available Bakers: 23
Total Available ???: 3
Total Living Goods: 4 Rolltots 1 Loafer
Total Undead Goods: 7 Loafsome Toasties
Total Baked Goods: 17 plain, 30 baleful
Total Devotees of Provenance: 11 goblins, 5 bakers
>A living baked good can preserve a baker's life, but undead goods turn foe's wounds fatal at the cost of their own unlife!

Inside the silent home, that loghouse made from petrified sinners was a sulking flame inside the maw of a metal statue. The statue was something like a cross between an angel of Heck and a squashed crocodile. Lemmick might have explained this, but that undead's head was filled with other thoughts as the goblins set to work as soon as they entered the silent home.

While most beings of greater or lesser will don't eat bread in their lifetimes, Lemmick wasn't among their number. However, though normal memories of life were far and distant, Lemmick still understood something.

This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all.

The goblin's baking began with a search of pockets and other hiding places for dust, dirt and anything that could be vaguely considered floury. Lemmick witnessed the few goblins with hair on their heads shaking dandruff onto the ever growing pile. A number of goblins however ignored this traditional goblin flour gathering.

Instead these avant-garde spirited goblins began to scrape the logs of the silent home. One might have expected the petrified people logs to suddenly scream, but still the logs were silent.

Lemmick's memories had long been focused on the grand and small faults of life, but seeing the goblins bustling about... were they spitting onto the pile containing no actual flour? A shudder made its way through Lemmick. Perhaps in defence against the horrors against baking that was being committed, a memory surfaced.

Amid a life of deranged magical undertakings, a whim of a monstrous person, baking a loaf from childhood. Lemmick didn't notice, that as it remembered the loaf it only took a single bite from back then, the eyes of the bakers fixed on Lemmick.

It can be easy to forget that goblins are faeries, but the bakers pulled on that bittersweet memory from Lemmick shoving it into the pocket flour that was turning into digusting dough and into the shavings of logs that other bakers were presiding over.
1/?

>>5721951
A manic energy filled the bakers and magic of the Goblin King pierced through realms to rest upon them.

Croutons, Croutons, soft bread to hard bread, mix it up, tear it up! Lumpy, lumpy!

An inane goblin song began, little more than a overly repetitive ode to croutons. Were the logs quivering? A brainless song, but the joy of the goblins was pure, though they were wretched ugly creatures and the breads they were making stretched the definitions.

As if responding to the joy, the flame in the statue no longer sulked. The logs began to quiver, creating a creaking that couldn't quite overcome the happy din of the goblins. The ruby fire crackled as if to join in the song, and more memories seeped from Lemmick.

Simple moments that were buried deep in an otherwise cold life and childhood. The bakers were more than happy to add these to the doughs, and in the fervour of bakers using the logscrapings, a goblin and two bakers got kneaded right into the dough!

The fire licked around the statue, as if it was alive and the statue was eager to use its flames on something other than people and rotten deeds. The logs quivered with greater nervousness. Lemmick was deep in a trance, like one experiencing enlightenment.

Pocket flour loaves were shaped and tossed into the flames and rolls made from the logscrapings were likewise thrown it. Like tribal savages around a ceremonial firepit, the goblins danced around the statue hooting laughing and singing.

"Time to leave! Time to leave!" They cried as the flames spilled out of the statue.

They even grabbed Lemmick on their way out as the flames once more began to consume the silent house. Normally silent homes make no noise as they burn, but on this occasion the ruby flames were singing and as the flames consumed the logs, Lemmick was struck dumber by what happened.

A series of unearthly splashes, the sights and sounds of a spirit passing from the realms of life to the River of the End, where the ferryman would fish them out. Such a thing could happen to any undead at any time, they called it the drowning of death. However in Heck, according to the self-styled horned angels they said that it could only happen in Heck if an undead reached the limits of its absolution, either from the spirit fraying or as the angels claimed, true regret.

Lemmick was almost tempted to leap into the abnormal flames then and there, but it remembered the duty of guiding the goblins it had been given. Lemmick stared at the goblins who were biting their fingers worrying over their baking.

Was simple innocent joy enough?

A glimpse was before Lemmick but... the undead shook its lavender hair, flowing locks of life flowering amid undeath, an extra sheen was on that hair, yet Lemmick remained a prisoner. A tired sigh.

"Not yet time I feel"

As the goblins dug out the surviving bread from the ashes, Lemmick considered where to lead them. It had the feeling the goblins were going to try imbibing soup.

2/?

>>5721952
Cries of delight arose from the goblins as four surly rolls of bread stood up and shook the ashes from their lumpen forms. Their indistinct and hideous faces grew more surly and they pulled from the ashes a large misshapen loaf with a slovenly expression. Yet that was not the end, as seven moaning crispy ashy toasted lumps rose up, dragging with them the three goblins that had gotten baked! Each goblin was greatly changed, becoming like a child's messy impression of a goblin in the form of bread people!

>In-Bread Goblins Unlocked! (1d6 strength goblins, become two 1d3 goblins on first death. The two goblins are technically one goblin. Gains different abilities upon being toasted or becoming soggy. Under usual circumstances they return to being normal goblins on respawn, some bakers are addicted to becoming bread, they think it is funny)

Lemmick clapped its hands as the goblins finished collecting their bread.

"Come, you have your croutons, I shall lead you to soup"

Lemmick did not know how to feel about that sentence.

As the goblins trotted after Lemmick, they paused for a moment, seeing the ashes behind them condense into a tree of ash. Amid the soup fog, a statue stood upright, no flame in mouth, but axe of flame in hand.

Perhaps it was just the goblins' fanciful minds, but did it wave goodbye?

DESTINATION
Any resulting goblin fights from differing destinations will be described.
>Soup of the Masses
>Dragon Soup?
>Why is there a pit with normal soup anyway?
>Soup of a Super Wicked One
>Soup of the Nihilist
>An undead is turning into soup, unbothered, moist.
>Soupfalls

GOBLIN KING'S MOOD: BRIGHT III
>Rolled 352! Lukewarm! Mood Unchanged!
He was hoping for more in-bread goblins honestly. They're sometimes surprisingly soft.

>>5721953
>An undead is turning into soup, unbothered, moist.
The soup sage

>>5721953
>>Soup of the Masses

>>5721953
>>An undead is turning into soup, unbothered, moist.
i wanted to go for the dragon soup because dragons r kewl but i can't pass up the soup sage

>>5721953
>An undead is turning into soup, unbothered, moist.

Sip that soup

>>5721978
>>5722127
>>5722245
>>5722670
3:1

The goblins for the soup of the masses get mobbed. I'll start writing after the evening meal, but before that, I offer a choice since I've committed the grim action of not having written in the morning.

If you so desire, I can put the update in the thinkbox and write tomorrow morning, the downside is that would mean no update today(which is very bad since we don't really do more than one a day), it would however increase the quality.

>>5722855
Quality better than quantity, go for it man.

Rolled 531 (1d777)

>>5722855
>>5722931
Too late, I've written it! Ahahaha!

Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck
Total Available Goblins: 44
Total Available Bakers: 23
Total Available In-Breads: 3
Total Living Goods: 4 Rolltots 1 Loafer
Total Undead Goods: 7 Loafsome Toasties
Total Baked Goods: 17 plain, 30 baleful
Total Devotees of Provenance: 11 goblins, 5 bakers
>Enlightened One, Wise Heretic

Although the goblins were adapting to the soupfog, visibility was still extremely poor, so Lemmick pulled out its chain of burdens once more. As Lemmick offered a few locations of soups to the goblins to visit and sully with their croutons, to the relief of the undead the goblins fixated on what Lemmick considered one of the safer options. Well, Lemmick thought so anyway.

An enlightened heretic.

So called because while these undead do not hold to the doctrines of Heck, they overcame or were never tormented by the revelations and torture of Heck.

The goblins didn't really get this, but they wanted to see an undead relaxing in soup. A small group however had a different opinion.

"Masses!" "More bones better!" "Lots good!"

Advocates of quantity! Quite natural among goblins, if anything it was a bit odd the majority being interested in the heretic, but goblins can be whimsical like that.

"Loser gobs!" "Gobs wanna see Heretic!" "Special soup for sure!" "Lame gobs do trial!"

The majority began to chant trial and so the small group of contrarians assembled before the chain. Lemmick just about managed to remain calm as the goblins used the chain as a skipping rope to test the determination of their fellows. Of course the game was rigged from the start and most of the goblins were eliminated at the start. One held on until the other goblins got tired and they bundled him up in the chain.

Thus, their destination was decided! To the soup of a single undead. Quite a few of the goblins were quite attracted to the cries echoing out in the soupfog and occasionally they caught sight of other souppits but they had managed to hype the heretic up in their minds so they remained strong and focused. After a while, the ground grew steeper and steeper, soon it became like a treacherous mountain, Lemmick was worried for a bit, but if anything the goblins were enjoying the climb more than the walk of temptations.

In the distorted time of Heck they climbed and climbed nigh sightless, but finally they reached a plateau and the fog thinned. Before their eyes was a pool of red. Tranquil and serene, for a soup of blood and flesh there was little in the way of smell, perhaps a faint minty smell. Floating on this steaming soup was a soggy eroded skeleton.

1/?

Rolled 1, 6, 2 = 9 (3d6)

>>5722978
From the bones this undead had either been an exceptionally handsome man (if a bit naturally defined) or a woman exceptionally cursed at birth, but seldom do such monstrously broad shoulders lie. Those cheekbones were almost horns too, and that massive chin!

What really caught the attention of the goblins was something that was hovering above the skull. The sight of this, to the goblins made the whole trip worth it.

"Oooh shiny!"

A halo, the envy of all spirits, a silvery glowing band in this case. Many were the explanation that people had for halos. By the mass knowledge of the goblins halo's were a special hat that special cool undead got to wear.

A shining halo was a sign of a undead that would do nice things like give you a super interesting beetle. A gloomy halo that ate light was a sign it was time to commit suicide to avoid something worse than the Goblin King's timeout punishment.

Such was a goblins' understanding. Enlightenment was a bit too nebulous of a concept for goblins or perhaps having offered up their wits, goblins could be said to have returned to a simplicity, an enlightenment of deprivation? Certainly it was like the plausible nonsense a sage would spout, the idea that to be enlightened one much first forget what enlightenment is.

Who knows what enlightenment the undead bore, but it certainly noticed Lemmick and the goblins and emerald spots of light within dark sockets focused on these curious pilgrims.

"Hoo, how surprisingly are the passing of events, welcome Lemmick and goblins both. Still holding to the worries of our keepers I see, Lem"

The deep voice of a man with confidence the size of mountains but not arrogance, no just a terrifying surety.

Lemmick gave a curtsy pinching the sides of its robe.

"I trust in them still, Yrd."
"I wouldn't say I don't trust them, merely that the mysteries bother them too much. For servants of Provenance, they worry too much"
"If we could all be like you having sensed that presence, perhaps they would not labour as hard"
"Hmmm, I doubt that would satisfy them, but I'll say again, there's no amount of scourging that will let one stand before Provenance unscathed, still I'll know the answer when I cross the River. Haha it'll be good if things are as they say, imagine if Provenance is little more than a furnace!"
"I don't want to consider such a hopeless end"

Lemmick and Yrd quickly got involved in yet another pointless musing over the nature of Provenance and the Truth beyond the River, the goblins quickly lost interest in the weighty weightless matter and focused their little minds on what they had come for.

Croutons in soup.

2/3

>>5722981
BEFOULING THE SOUP
From living goods, to undead goods and regular foul goblin loaves and rolls. There's even three goblin In-Breads who would likely be willing to become croutons. The question is... how much? Certainly choices that could result in a goblin fight!

>Tear it all up and throw all of it in!
>Tear half of it up and throw it in!
>Only use regular baked goods
>Gob math! (Write in quantities)

SOUP SERVED!
Having put croutons in, there's the question of what to do with the finished product!

Trials of Fate
>Swimming!
>Eating!
>Feed the Heretic!
>Collecting for later!
>Feed Lemmick!
>Goblin Flame to heat? Looks a little cool
>Beg for the halo to be dipped (Major, failure will convert goblins to worship of Provenance equal to the goblins that died)

GOBLIN KING'S MOOD: BRIGHT III
>Rolled 531! Good! Mood at Max! The King Casts a Buff!
Wether it be saintly halo bearers or villainous ones, he considers both to be the only undead worthy of a crumb of respect. That and they usually get up to more interesting antics.

Regardless of what you choose dear players, Oh will of goblins, roll 3d7

>>5722985
>>Tear it all up and throw all of it in!
By "throw all of it" that may include the goblins. I'm thinking they just dive in head first. They generally don't try to tear each other up, though, just the breadstuffs.
All of these at the same time
>>Swimming!
>>Eating!
>>Feed the Heretic!
>>Collecting for later!
>>Feed Lemmick!

Rolled 3, 4, 1 = 8 (3d7)

>>5722985

>>5722985
>Eating!
>Feed the Heretic!
>Feed Lemmick!
Feast time!

Rolled 7, 2, 2 = 11 (3d7)

And here's some rolls too

>>5723288
Way better than mine.
Also Steller, by "saving it for later" i mean "trying to put soup in their pockets"

>>5723258
>>5723286
My head is absolute mush today, consequently I won't be writing, however this means that instead of me picking randomly from the options you chose, you can narrow them down to one. It is after all only one trial choice per player.

My apologies for my weakness.

>>5723570
I'll settle for
>Only use regular baked goods
>Eating!

>>5723575
I'm in no state to do anything today and this could have been easily avoided. Sorry for letting you and others down.

>>5724469
Lol

Lmao

>>5724469
i like the fact that you aren't ghosting us between updates, at least

>>5724469
No problem Steller, things happen.

>>5725253
>>5725305
>>5725324
I do today have a weird pain in the back of my neck, but honestly it shouldn't keep me from writing.

The problem is clearly that I've gotten way out of the groove. (On top of easily avoidable impediments). Even if I don't manage an update tomorrow I'll post some kind of story, just to try getting the juices going.

While this current state of affairs is unsightly I'm not going to wordlessly ghost you.

In that light, I'll do something regardless but... Have a pick of these;

The first step
>Animal
>Vegetable
>Mineral

The second step
>Pick a colour

Let's see if we can't shake off this rust eh?

>>5725395
>Animal
>Green

>>5725395
>Mineral
>Blue
Hope your situation isn't too bad Steller.

File: black-corn.jpg (24 KB, 600x400)

24 KB JPG

>>5725395
> Vegetable

> Black

>>5725395
Animal
Yellow

>>5725548
> Norris

> Attergate

>>5725405
>>5725486
>>5725533
>>5725548
>>5726183
Naturally around an attergate, there shouldn't be any life. Few are the things that can thrive in an outpour, a wellspring of elemental poison and pus, rot and ruin. A circle of rot and decay was cut through the unfortunate jungle that this phenomenon had arose in.

A literal gate of atter would be no less. However rising from this pool of primordial muck and filth was an unstained flower.

A bloom of midnight, a purity of ink.

Lone Lady Mercy some called this flower. To Sirron as he gripped his crystal wand, an azure gift from beyond, another name came to mind.

Tragic Nightlure.

Not only was such a valuable flower growing on atter, which was deadly even to undead, the splendor of the flower was such that it drew the attention of other beings. The greatest threat of a natural treasure wasn't it's own deadly conditions, but competition.

Sirron could only take cold comfort in having only two competitors. He didn't like the look of either though.

One was a green lizard as long and wide as two men. Its head was somewhat crocodilian, thankfully it had no horns, but Sirron's feathers were ruffled from the marks of time on its scales and the fact that the abominable lizard had its eyes closed. He wasn't sure if it was an animal with awakened will or not. Most troublesome was that the lizard was utterly unfamiliar to him.

The second competitor Sirron was well familiar with what kind of creature it was, but that gave little in the way of comfort.

A kind of Trickster's Tail, in this case a Cat's Pride, a spiritual animal born from the severed tail of powerful feline. In this case the fluffy tail was a wheaten hue, but it possessed no legs, moving as the serpent does. In contrast to the pleasing fur, it had flat face devoid of skin and fur. A red face of grim muscle and teeth. A green cat's eye and a brown cat's eye stared at Sirron with worrying cunning.

Stroking his hooked beak, Sirron had half a mind to fly away then and there, but he suspected such a retreat would not go uncontested, thus he remained in the standoff, better to risk life and limb for riches than a mere chance of escape.

"Little birdie, help me take out the lizard, and we can divide the spoils between us peacefully" The Trickster's Tail purred.

Sirron didn't believe a word of that. Staying wary, he communed with his blue wand, the guidance of the voices within was often maddening and confusing, but the council offered often saved his drumsticks.

>Just start blasting Sirron!
>Team up with the Trickster's Tail, what could go wrong?
>Assume the lizard is a wise beast, offer to team up against the tail
>He who moves first loses, patiently wait out the patience of the animals
>Buffs, you must stack buffs!
>Don't listen to the above, debuffs are king!
>Make the attergate nastier, what could go wrong?

>>5725486
Could always be worse. Neck pain became more savage, but a hot water bottle helps.

I suspect it has something to do with the small rotten willow trunk I brainlessly tried twisting off, I exhausted myself against it without success and now it looks like instead of twisting it off, it twisted me.

Inanimate objects: 1
Steller: 0

>>5726254
>Buffs, you must stack buffs!
Just don't stack too many, always keep in mind diminishing returns!

>>5726254
>>Assume the lizard is a wise beast, offer to team up against the tail
It's probably better than a trickster, unless this is the trick

>>5726254
>>5726254
>5726254
There is norrisattergate

Lol you summoned Nyarlahotep. There is no rest at the gate.

>>Make the attergate nastier, what could go wrong?

>>5726254
>Buffs, you must stack buffs!

>>5726255
Hah, at least you didn't get any splinters.

Pain is altogether too distracting today.

>>5727116
I am sorry to hear that. Tooth, back, or something new?

>>5727196
Its the neck. Hopefully much reduced if not gone tomorrow.

>>5727991
I hope you feel better soon

>>5727116
>>5727991
That sounds horrible, I hope it stops soon.

>>5728524
>>5728813
My physical torments appear to be approaching their end. I'll get some decent sleep tonight and come fresh to writing tomorrow.

Might even be the actual Quest.

>>5729290
Turn that suffering into creativity

>>5729318
based
steller becomes famous artist

Rolled 10, 11 = 21 (2d35)

>>5726254
>>5729318
>>5729464
>Buffs, stack buffs
As in the past, the wisdom of the unknown and dubious voices was flawless! Not only would stacking buffs provide protection and power, surely such a suffocating display of magic would intimidate the two beasts!

Sirron was a typical, or standard mage. A polite way of saying a magician who only knew spells made by others. Not quite as bad as it might sound, but between a mage that makes those spells his own and one that casts by rote, a standard mage will crush the amateurs and be folded by the adept. Still, for a standard mage, stacking buffs or spamming projectiles was a good idea. When the uncreative attempt something clever, death is not far behind. Being a standard mage, Sirron of course already had a buff on him. Most mages have what many call a wardcloak, typically imbedded in a hat, spellbook, often a robe, cloak or more recklessly flesh.

"Greater Barrier of Division, Slograh!"

When stacking buffs, one of the important choices is what to start with, naturally this depends on the situation of the caster, but often one needs something to buy time. It was to Sirron's credit that he needed neither long ritual or chant. His wand shone as the space between him and the two beasts became hazy and thick, as if filled with unseen bubbles of cloudy rock.

Both the cat and lizard attacked at once, but while Slograh was a spell that couldn't serve as a foundation for further buffs, it was definitely a monarch of time wasting spells. Sirron would have to dispell it, and the amount of time he had was only equal to how long he could go without breath, but his competitors were flung back as the formless bubbles popped, forming more bubbles.

"Pillars of Mana, Condense, gather! Towers of Dread!"

A spell that served a dual purpose of gathering magic and serving as a foundation that would keep Sirron's own spells from crushing his feeble frame, being a typical mage, Sirron had neglected the development of his own flesh, blood and bone. Vibrations shook through Sirron's beak and bones as grim colourless towers began to form around him, twisting and spiralling above him the tops vanished into thin air. Proof of his lacking talent, only three towers coiled around him, and they were indistinct, lacking detail, as if drawn by a untrained child. Still sensing that things could not be left as they were the cat raked with gloomy trails of claws it didn't have, and the lizard more effectively coughed up spit that persistently burned into the barrier.

"Trollgrudge Awaken!"

A spell that only one who has slain a troll could cast, many were the applications of trollgrudge, but in this case it gave a property of regeneration to the barrier Slograh. The Lizard, seeing this, decided that now was a good time to leave. It directly fled back into the jungle. The cat however got more furious.

1/?

Rolled 5, 2, 2, 6, 5, 6, 2, 1, 6, 1, 5, 2, 6, 6, 3, 2, 3, 5, 4, 2, 1, 1 = 76 (22d6)

>>5729764
"Minor Imitation Gerlinn's Many mouths!"
"Extra Air!"
"Beastbane Hunter of Hunter's Will!"
"Torture of Math!"
"Distortion of Outcomes, Comutype!"
"Lesser Sneer of the Dragon"
"Minor Accumulation of Doom!"
"Owl's Council!"
"Trick of the Numbers!"
"Yadh's False Eye of Scorn"
"Lesser Mana Swelling!"

A selection that was lacking in additional defence, but the undulations and intensifying of magic was enough to spook the cat. Sirron was filled with excitement and wincing stumbled through a few more spells just to make use of the foundation he had laid, after all, the beasts could return or new competitors could appear. He quickly stumbled over a few defensive buffs and quickly dispelled Slograh.

Alas, in his haste, he forgot something very important. He hadn't been led astray by the voices in his wand. He had merely been swept away by the joy of victory and the power of the buffs. He was buff-drunk in other words. A state that would could manage if one composed oneself.

Unfortunately for Sirron, he strode right into the attergate and toward the Tragic Nightlure. He realised his mistake instantly as the atter rotted his spells away. He could not even cry out or turn around he only looked with longing and despair at the Nightlure as in mere seconds he was reduced to a skeleton and then became one with the muck itself.

All that remained was the flower, and not far from it, an otherworldly wand of crystal blue. Perhaps if he was lucky or unlucky Sirron would join those voices within at last...

Such are the tales told to apprentice magicians, over and over, of this grim fate and that messy end.

Next, we return to our Goblins in Heck. The Rolls at the Start of these posts determine if the goblins only use the regular baked goods as croutons or if they use everything.
We need a few rolls apart from that though.

Success or Failure, 1s and 2s are Deaths.
22d6 goblins 11d6 Bakers Swimming in Soup
22d6 goblins 11d6 Bakers Eating Soup

Rolled 4, 5, 3, 6, 3, 2, 2, 4, 6, 5, 3, 4, 6, 3, 2, 5, 2, 6, 3, 3, 5, 2 = 84 (22d6)

>>5729765
Am I doing it right?

Rolled 3, 5, 1, 4, 5, 2, 4, 3, 5, 5, 5, 6, 4, 5, 6, 2, 2, 3, 4, 1, 6, 6 = 87 (22d6)

>>5729765

Rolled 5, 6, 6, 1, 5, 1, 1, 1, 6, 4, 5 = 41 (11d6)

Bakers swimking in soup

Rolled 6, 6, 5, 1, 4, 5, 2, 1, 6, 3, 6 = 45 (11d6)

>>5729765
>11d6 Bakers Eating Soup

It is quite late, but I shall stay up and start writing shortly.

>>5730560
No go to sleep so you don't die again.

>>5730583
How about a comprise, there's about 1 hour and 30 minutes to midnight where I am, I'll see what I can get done in that time

Rolled 191 (1d777)

>>5729776
>>5729788
>>5730163
>>5730164
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck
>King's Buff; Impermanence of Foolish Sonnet II (Fallen beyond measure, offer up fate, receive absurdity)
>Between Making it all into croutons and preserving a few goods, the goblins used it all up!
>Swimming in Soup! Trial of Fate! Rolled 125! Success! 5 goblins died! 4 bakers died! Extra! Rolled 341!
>Eating Soup! Trial of Fate! Rolled 132! Success! 5 goblins died! 3 Bakers Died! Extra! Rolled 722! An auspicious fate!
Total Available Goblins: 34
Total Available Bakers: 16
Total Living Goods: 0
Total Undead Goods: 0
Total Baked Goods: 0
Total Devotees of Provenance: 11 goblins, 5 bakers

First, the goblins gathered in a big lump away from Yrd and Lemmick who were engrossed in a friendly theological argument that they must have repeated again and again, with words eating themselves like the Ouroboros, though ignoring that alchemical abomination of words that was metaphorically slithering behind them, the goblins were influenced none the less.

The were to toss croutons in the soup of Yrd's scourging, but two camps had formed. Those in favour of holding nothing back, an orthodox goblinic position and those in favour of using only inanimate breads, a heterodox but still goblinic position.

Normally they'd be beating each other up, but the terrors of Lemmick and Yrd's high level metaphysical conversation stirred an urge in the goblins. The urge for that most difficult of goblin fights, a debate! The two sides sat down cross-legged all, though each a different crooked mess.

A tense moment of near silence, only the bubble of the Yrd-soup and the murmurs of the two undead in the background.

A lone goblin, just as ugly and misshapen as his peers unfolded his gangly uneven limb. He alone stood.

"Soup big, use all!" He declared.

Instantly the orthodox goblins began cheering, hooting and clapping! Was this it for the heterodox? Such sound logic, an unassailable position. The faces of the heterodox goblins turned as sour as a fox might imagine unreachable grapes to be, enough to see the fresh as foul! The speaker bowed and sat back down.

However amid the triumph, one heterodox goblin untangled his legs and feet, and with a sinister cunning smirk on his face, rose. A feeling of unease spread through the orthodox, what could this wicked goblin have to say to upend such a strong position? What words could shake the miraculous self-reinforcing premise?

"But what about later soups?"

The orthodox howled and the heterodox snickered. What a foul trick, to speak of soups not yet present! His foul work done, the insidious speaker returned to the crowd, the seeds of doubt were enough! The orthodox twisted in agony at the terrors of future soups without croutons. One of their number shot up.

1/?

>>5730943
"Soup can be eaten without croutons!" She wailed.
"Then less croutons fine!" Came the snide reply.

Groans came from the orthodox, and they dragged the failed speaker back into their crowd, giving her a light beating for her failure. Another stood up, inspired.

"Can make more croutons later!"

The heterodox recoiled as if they were vampires force fed garlic. What horrifying and inescapable logic!

"But walkie bread rare!" Came a protest.
"Make more later!" The orthodox shouted.

It was over. The heterodox tried to speak again, but the cry of 'make more later' drowned out the protests, this day, primordial goblin impulses won! It would all become croutons! Even...

The three in-bread goblins stood proudly before the other goblins, and the clamour of the victors voices faded.

It was time.

Three goblins would die, and they would return to being goblins of flesh, bone and blood.

"If only gob could become bread too" one goblin muttered.
As the three were torn into pieces the other goblins agreed with the speaker. It was really unfair that only these three got to become croutons. Golden motes drifted away from the shredded goblin breadfolk before the bits even reached the soup.

Barely waiting for the plop of the 'croutons' hitting the soup, the goblins tore up the rest of their baked goods and tossed them in, the living goods didn't resist though they seemed a bit dispirited by this turn of events. The undead ones didn't have quite enough consciousness to react.

Yrd shuddered, bonedust flaking off his skeleton, he actually paused mid-sentence. Lemmick noticed this, though its back was turned to the goblins.

"Yrd? Whatever is the matter?"
"I've endured the torment of powers far beyond my being, but I felt a sudden unease, what are those goblins doing?"
Lemmick turned around just in time to see the next phase of the antics of the goblins. They were grabbing the loser heterodox and tossing them into the soup.
"Hey, wait!"

It was far, far too late to stop the goblins. One might have blamed the agony of revelation for why five regular goblins and four bakers died, but it was really just that they failed to swim under the pressure. Naturally they drowned, and motes could be seen drifting off from the surface of the soup. As all this happened, a subtle jovial and even farcical tune drifted from far far away. Back in the Goblin King's castle, that monarch was plucking some instrument that only vaguely looked like an emerald harp. There was three sides, but how these connected evaded the eye, and consequently the arrangement of the strings was most baffling. A sound like mocking laughter trilled from the strings, but who or what that laughter was directed at was unclear, still the magic of the Goblin King settled on his goblins.

As the goblins in the soup writhed, those not in it nodded in satisfaction. Everything was perfect, it was time to have some soup.
2/?

>>5730945
In one swift motion they all scooped up soup with their hands and slurped it up noisily.

In comparison to the swimmers, five regular goblins and three bakers directly exploded into clouds of blood. This wouldn't really bother goblins at the best of times, but on this occasion the impromptu blood shower was... satisfying?

There was in this soup that same knowledge of a being beyond comprehension, but under that oppressive shadow, the goblins felt something else. A blood bond.

He was, from the beginning alone. He was not fortunate enough to be raised by wild animals. In that pit, there were only corpses. Was it mere chance that a babe drank from pools of blood and didn't drown? Was it the trick of some dark deity or the sinister will of something fouler like Pursuance or a Corrupt Star? Even he never found the truth, but that was how he was born, a cursed child from a dead mother.

Blood was his milk, Yrd one of the True Vampires, a Blood Origin.

Once, these goblins had only a King, their mothers and fathers lost to the memories eroded by countless deaths and rebirths. Now though... Lemmick was a little creeped out as the goblins turned a fevered red eyed gaze towards Yrd, their new blood father.

No more than birth did they receive for it was only surprise that earned them that vision, the rest of memory Yrd treasured and protected them from.

A paleness came over the goblins, and along with their new blood red eyes, they grew a little less ugly, a tiny echo of what they would be like as nobles, vampire are themselves a kind of noble after all. One more change was all their hair or fur became one of three colours, black as night, silver as a moon or red as blood.

>All the goblins have become vampire goblins, normally the blood of an Original vampire would confer grand powers and little of the weaknesses of bloodkin, but these goblins are too weak. They cannot cross running water, enter a home uninvited. Sunlight reduces them to ash. Garlic reduces them to ash. Unlike normal Secondkin vampire goblins cannot transform into legions of creatures of the night, instead they can only become a few rats or bats. They cannot even become mist! They are however a pain to truly kill. With blood, their remains can be revived and should their remains be completely obliterated they will revive before the Monarch. Curiously they lack the ability to make other beings into vampires, perhaps this would be different if they were goblin nobles?

"Well this is a bit of a mess, my apologies Yrd" Lemmick said with some embarrassment.
A soggy skeletal hand waved in dismissal.
"Do not worry, though the hand is unseen, fate is hard to flee from, too long have I soaked here"
He stood up, standing on the surface of the soup of his own being no less. He raised a hand, and the soup began to gather at his feet. Liquid became muscle, organs, skin and cloth.
3/?

>>5730946
In moments a handsome man with abnormal vitality for a realm filled with undead stood above a pit with several confused goblins.

He wore boots of red with a dark suit of the same, something between a military dress and the dandy wear of a decadent noble. On his deep cliff-like craggy face was a glorious beard of midnight and hair no less splendid. With warm glowing red eyes set in that white skin, he looked at his new bloodkin. The halo remained, though its presence gave an incongruous look to him.

"My new children, your blood told me of your aim, I shall not aid you, but I will join you in pligrimage till the flower you seek is found"

The vampire goblins cheered in celebration of their father going on a walk with them. Lemmick decided it was best to be more careful with where it took the goblins in the future.

>For transforming goblins into vampire goblins, you have gained an adventure reward and unlocked vampire goblins.

DESTINATION
Seeing as the goblins are now vampires, Lemmick supposes that no further lingering in the soup kitchen is needed. The Gates of Determination are still somewhat far off.

>Go by way of the Town that Fell
>They could pass through the Sausage Factory
>Ignore Lemmick and head in a random direction 3d7 encounter (dangerous)
>A small nameless village of imps is on the way
>The Dessert of Retribution (3d6 encounter)
>The Mills of Judgement grind slowly... (2d6 encounter)
>How about cutting through some Heckwilds (3d6 encounter)

GOBLIN KING'S MOOD: BRIGHT II
>Rolled 191! Bad! Mood lowered 2 levels!
In truth, the King doesn't like to share.

>>5730947
>A small nameless village of imps is on the way
Other mascots!

>>5730947
>A small nameless village of imps is on the way

>>5730946
Goblin Vampires! Wonderful!
>>5730947
>>A small nameless village of imps is on the way
New Friends!

Rolled 92 (1d777)

Smaller one, since I was at the dentist.

>>5731018
>>5731066
>>5731150
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck
Total Available Vampire Goblins: 34
Total Available Vampire Bakers: 16
Total Living Goods: 0
Total Undead Goods: 0
Total Baked Goods: 0
Total Devotees of Provenance: 11 goblins, 5 bakers
>Is it misfortune for Imps to receive a visit from vampire goblins

No more did Yrd banter with Lemmick, instead Lemmick could only listen as a mighty Blood Origin tried to cram the knowledge of a vampire's fatal weakness into the heads of his new bloodkin. These bloodkin were however goblins, so the results of the efforts were questionable.

Yrd did not earn his halo for nothing, he had more than enough patience to answer the same question presented in different broken sentences several times. In a way Lemmick was a little relieved, though there was a moment where several goblins almost got lost in the soupfog when they discovered their newfound ability to turn into swarms of rats and bats. Normally a vampire's host moves as one, but in this case, being goblins they displayed the amazing ability to scatter the rats and bats in multiple different directions. Though Yrd said he wouldn't interfer, he showed the attributes of a doting father and bound the goblins with a ribbon of blood, ensuring they would not get lost. Even when they exited the soupfog, many goblins were still amusing themselves by switching between goblin, bat and rat forms, but at the sight before them, not even those goblins kept it up.

The crest of a hill, far in the distance, steaming towers could faintly be seen, but what dominated this skyless horizon was a door so large only a faint outline could be seen, this alone would not have been enough to silence and still the goblins, even with their mildly risen sense of aesthetics that came with being vampires.

It was what covered the hills of hecklard. Flowers with the heads of beautiful maidens, the petals were like a nun's habit. A gentle sorrowful song wafted from them in the form of their weeping and their tears formed rivers that cut through the hills.

"Ladies of Compassion, legend has it that when their tears dry up, they become flower fairies freed from Heck"

"Become little meanies?" "Sad!" "Tragic!"

It is worth noting that goblins do not actually have a good affinity with flower fairies. They tend to view them as most people view goblins. More than one goblin has gone to sleep in a meadow only to wake with all his treasures gone. The conflict could be said to be rooted in goblin and flower fairies' similar taste in bits of coloured string and weird pebbles.
1/?

>>5731935
Not wanting to think about the goblins' reaction, Lemmick pointed a fleshless finger at a collection of normal looking black cottages, well apart from having thatch that looked to be made from fire. A golden spire of some sort reached out from the huddle of cottages.

"There's the village we'll be passing through, it's just an imphome, but..."

The words faltered as the goblins transformed into a plague of rats and descended upon the unsuspecting village.

HOSPITALITY
Before the goblins is a little imp village.

TRIAL OF FATE
>Bang on the doors, present your kitchens, it's time for BAKING!
>Oooh shiny spire!
>Blood Father, Blood Father, what should a goblin do?

TRIAL OF DISCERNMENT
>Uninvited wander into people's homes.
>Time for a conga line!
>New Friends, new games (write in game)

>Gob it Out! (Write in action)

GOBLIN KING'S MOOD: GOOD II
>Rolled 92! Foul! Mood lowered by 3 levels.
He doesn't mind most of the brides that decided to stay in spite of his callous disinterest once the novelty wore off. The flower fairy queen was however a terrible mistake.

File: 250px-Taunt_Conga.png (81 KB, 250x210)

81 KB PNG

>>5731937
>Time for a conga line!
I wonder if Quiet would be jealous of these vampire goblins, her prized part was a bat wing after all

>>5731937
Fate
>>Bang on the doors, present your kitchens, it's time for BAKING!
>>New Friends, new games (write in game)
Food fight! (After baking sufficient ammunition)

>>5731937
>Bang on the doors, present your kitchens, it's time for BAKING!

Challenge them to a bake-off! Time to make blood pudding!

Rolled 6, 2, 4, 1, 6, 3, 6, 1, 5, 5, 3, 3, 2, 3, 1, 1 = 52 (16d6)

>>5732006
>>5732100
You know, I've never really understood the Japanese putting not able to cook as a charm point of a heroine. As a flaw for any human being, male, female, real or fictional, being bad at cooking is a horrible issue.

I can somewhat understand giving an otherwise flawless character that crippling disability, but that's a bit of a lazy way to go 'see she isn't perfect!'

Female goblins are of course just as terrible as the males. They're just as ugly when not nobles or monarchs too.

Rolled 5, 2, 3, 2, 5, 3, 6, 2, 2, 4, 3, 4, 1, 6, 2, 1, 5 = 56 (17d6)

>>5732533

I could have you encounter your first other goblin monarch here in Heck, but while there is a few, I don't feel the need to force the matter.

Rolled 4, 3, 4, 4, 3, 4, 3, 4, 2, 5, 6, 3, 4, 4, 5, 1, 6 = 65 (17d6)

>>5732536
There's probably quite a few goblin monarchs that still cook foul stuff come to think of it. Given how long they can live, most likely go through a learning cooking arc.

Rolled 777 (1d777)

>>5731951
>>5732006
>>5732100
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck
>Bang on the doors, BAKING TIME! Trial of Fate! Rolled 173! Minor failure! 6 bakers turned to ash! 8 goblins turned to ash!
>Conga line
>Food Fight, failed due to lack of baked goods
Total Available Vampire Goblins: 26
Total Available Vampire Bakers: 10
Total Vampire ashes: 6 bakers 8 goblins
Total Living Goods: 0
Total Undead Goods: 0
Total Baked Goods: 0
Total Devotees of Provenance: 11 goblins, 5 bakers

The days of the nameless little imp village were idyllic. A society devoted only to teaching fresh imps varied torture methods, devotees of Provenance all. Some believe that days that all look the same is a kind of torture, but that can only be true when the labour is unfulfilling or the self twisted. These imps valued their samey days, they never tired of weeping tears of sorrow and joy when imps were sent away after finishing their training.

This day wasn't bound to be like all the others.

It began with the squeaking, excited frantic squeaking. The source of the sound soon came into sight, a plague of black rats with red eyes. If the village hadn't been a village of imps of Heck, some panic would have happened. As it was, the imps were just a little startled, and those that remembered their training guided the others into their homes, a few imps simply climbed up on the thatch of flames that made up the roofs. The flame didn't bother them at all. They gossipped among themselves trying to guess what these rats really were and why they had appeared.

The goblins clustered around the houses, demanding the use of their ovens, but they had of course forgotten to turn back into goblins. They squeaked more frantically, they couldn't wait for the fun to begin. Now, while goblins can be dumb enough to not notice the nature of their own voices, in their defence the squeaking just sounded like normal talking to them. The curse of misunderstanding doesn't cover the speech of animal tongues, most people don't understand animals' voices at all.

Had the goblins been normal vampires they would have been able to speak in the voice above the beasts, but much of the powers that secondkin would have had been offered unconsciously to their King of course.

"I opened my door, but they can't come in?"
"Vampires maybe? Wait, what are you opening your door for?"
"Isn't it too many for vampires?"
"They have red eyes..."
"You should close your door just in case"
"No way, their much cuter than the heckrats"
"They're still ugly though"
"Heckrats are very ugly"

Losing patience, since they weren't fisher goblins and the imps were ignoring their words, many of the rats began to attempt to climb the houses. After the first few burned up all of their rats and turned to ashes, the others ceased risking their rats.
1/?

>>5732602
>777
The Goblin King is having a blast

>>5732604
Confused as to what to do since baking efforts had been foiled, the rats milled about brainlessly, but this chaotic pattern began to take another form. The imps let out coos of amazement and a few even clapped as the mass of rats transformed into a single line of rats waddling on their hind legs, snaking around the village.

Faster and faster did the imps clap, and faster did the goblins dance about the village, shaking their disappointment out of their bodies. It all came to a sudden end, musical clapping and dancing rats both with a loud clap that attracted everyone's attention.

At some point, Yrd and Lemmick had caught up. The silencing clap that signalled the end of festivities was done by Yrd of course. The imps murmured among themselves at the rare sight of an enlightened undead, Lemmick they mostly overlooked, since Yrd's halo was what grabbed their attention.

"Have you been having fun my children? Gather round and assume your true forms. Gather up your fallen kin too, while the imps clear a room for coffins which I'll make for you to sleep in, why not have a bit of story-time?" He spoke like a father to actual children, rather than a sire and a goblin mob of bloodkin.

Some of the imps bustled about to prepare a space for goblin vampire coffins and the goblins turned back into their usual goblin bodies.

"Sleep?" One goblin questioned.
Yrd patted the goblin on the head.
"Yes, sleep, your transformation into vampires and the journey here has strained your spirits, you can't feel it, but if you kept running around you'd return to your monarch in no time at all! You don't want to do that yet right?"

The goblins shook their heads.

LOVE OF A DOTING FATHER
Still no place for the living, even vampires, Heck still erodes the goblins. Under strain of obscured time and space, a rest is needed, Yrd seems willing to tell a tale or two before he puts the goblins in coffins but...

TRIAL OF DISCERNMENT
>That sounds great!
>Lemmick tell story instead!
>Imps' tales!
>No stories, play with imps!


TYPE OF TALE
>Personal
>A story of the Coyote and Six Beasts (Pick a number between 1-7)
>Stars
>Heck
>Halo
>Goblin King or Queen (pick one)
>Gob knows! (Write in a proper noun)


GOBLIN KING'S MOOD: BRIGHT III (TEMPORARILY BRILLIANT!)
>Rolled 777! Brilliant! Mood Maxed! 7d7 extra goblins sent! All of them will be variants! A wondrous gift will be sent, guaranteed to be a summon!
ROLL 1d20 for which variant you get!
ROLL 7d7 for how many!
ROLL 3d7 for a summon crystal
The King is mercurial as always, what put him in such a good mood? Was it dancing rat goblins? A mystery known only to himself, or perhaps he doesn't even know. He's come around on the whole goblins having a sire thing though.

Don't forget to pick options amid these unexpected rolls.

>>5732604
Just wait till we get a lone depressed 1.

>>5732608
>That sounds great!
>Personal
We must know more about new dad!

>>5732608
>>That sounds great!
>>Halo

>>5732610
>>5732614
>Actions but no rolls. I have the feeling this is my fault. I mean, the actions are the more important thing admittedly.

If nobody rolls overnight, I'll roll for the variant tomorrow.

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>5732983
Sorry, brain is small like goblin

Also, someone is looking for you in the qtg

Rolled 5, 1, 2, 1, 7, 7, 4 = 27 (7d7)

>>5732983
I am a bit gobbo sometimes

Rolled 5, 4, 1 = 10 (3d7)

>>5732983

Lemme tell story instead, Goblin King!

How the King found Pot the lost goblin and kettle the black dog. But which was which?

>>5732608
>That sounds great!
>Halo
Ha, now this is fun.

A smaller one, since I was out today for some time.

>>5732610
>>5732614
>>5733001
>>5733183
>>5733219
>>5733308
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck
Total Available Vampire Goblins: 26
Total Available Vampire Bakers: 10
Total Vampire ashes: 6 bakers 8 goblins
Total Living Goods: 0
Total Undead Goods: 0
Total Baked Goods: 0
Total Devotees of Provenance: 11 goblins, 5 bakers

The goblins gathered around Yrd with only minimal shoving and eye poking, idle imps more distantly gathered to hear. There was a moment where the Imps and Lemmick were badly surprised when the Goblin King threw twenty seven goblin bards through into heck.

>Goblin Bards, 1d6 strength Bards. They can perform, giving +1 per 10 bards to all goblin rolls. Minimum +1 even if less than ten bards. 1s are still counted as KOs/deaths. They can't do anything while performing. Regular goblins can join a song as a chorus, giving +1 per 20 goblins.

They carried with them a summon crystal. Clear and pure. A stainless glass filled with invisible mystery.

>Summon Crystal; The Queen of Dogma (remains of an enchantress who lost to love and truth, her word still wounds and welds. Her beauty is still untainted, revelation greets her face.) Returns to Castle on use.

Yrd let out a smile, with his fangs it was equal parts terrifying and charming. Perhaps after centuries of being soup he was pleased to have company that was unrelated to the doings of Heck. Lemmick stood to the side, and lacking a face, the mood of this undead was unclear.

"Now, what sort of story would you like to hear?" A mesmerising voice, just as one might fear a goblins' voice would curdle milk, one feared that maidens would be with child just from his spoken word.

The goblins, barely affected by his voice apart from the closeness of sire and bloodkin simply pointed as one at Yrd's halo. Silvery glow, like a resplendent moonface. To the goblins, it was that shine that drew their attention.

Did Yrd's toothsome smile grow even wider? He himself pointed at his halo. A hum sounded as it ascended and grew wider and wider. Nobody could see through the hole, instead a deep darkness rippled as lakewater. Then, looking at this, everyone lost all sensations. From touch to taste and all else.

Blind minds not even able to sense each other, yet none panicked, for they all felt pulled into a dreamlike mindset. There was also his voice.

"I could tell you a tale of halos, of my own or others, but instead, I'll let you experience a tale based on one I witnessed from blood..."

A stroke of red in black, the disembodied minds found a home in a painted body.

"Once in my tyrannical days, I was offered a bloodwine made from this poor soul you all now imitate. He was himself a goblin lost and alone"
1/?

>>5733485
The painter's unseen brush carved out strokes of crimson. A warren of caves, a maze of trees, red mists and dancing lights.

"A warlock had caught this goblin, and many others in the past. He put them in a maddening maze, I know how this goblin acted, but what will you all do?"

STRANGE INTERACTIVE STORY
Yrd has taken the minds, the wills of his listeners and stuffed them inside an avatar to experience some manner of weird story that isn't just simply told, how curious. Perhaps this bizarre mode of story telling will prove popular among the goblins?

Experience of Blood
>When a goblin's thoroughly lost, committing suicide is the way to go!
>Trees are after all, food and toys!
>Ooo, shiny lights!
>Time for a nap!
>Digging time!

GOBLIN KING'S MOOD BRIGHT III (TEMPORARILY BRILLIANT) (currently suspended lest he rip asunder the vision beneath the halo)
He can after all, control his own temper, he just usually chooses not to.

>>5733486
>Ooo, shiny lights!
So this is why the King dislike wizards

>>5733486
>Digging time!

>>5733488
A wizard can't tell right from wrong, anyhow.
And they also tend to mess with everything they touch.

>>5733486
>>Trees are after all, food and toys!
gob doesn't even realize he is in a maze or lost.

I gotta cut a mountain of plums and do some house cleaning, update will be delayed and likely small.

>>5734113
An actual mountain made out of plums sounds like something that would fit right in the quest.

>>5733488
>>5733510
>>5733513
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck, Summon Crystal; The Queen of Dogma
Total Available Vampire Goblins: 26
Total Available Vampire Bakers: 10
Total Available Bards: 27
Total Vampire ashes: 6 bakers 8 goblins
Total Living Goods: 0
Total Undead Goods: 0
Total Baked Goods: 0
Total Devotees of Provenance: 11 goblins, 5 bakers
>Dig, wander, eat. Repeat.

It can be a coin flip with regard to whether goblins will kill themselves to flee a situation, but a cunning mage knows that some beings need to be tightly bound, and others given an illusion of freedom. Especially if one is performing a great work.

Whatever the original goblin did, Yrd's audience immediately began to dig into the painted soil of the vision. One might have expected more and more soil, but after only a little while of digging directed by the will of many the goblin dug through and fell through the sky. Hitting the ground his bones broke, flesh tore. The soil rose as gnarled fingers and pulled the goblin together.

"So, though he was one and you are many, this was but one of the things he did and experienced"

The goblins were a bit surprised, but as detached as they were, agony was not much of an issue. Most goblins do not like pain of course, but knowing they can escape from such torments at any time gives a surprising endurance to goblins. If a goblin is interested enough they'll drag a ragged body over blades.


Speaking of which, the interest of the goblins had not yet waned. For their next amusement they wandered off toward something that would attract any moth or goblin.

Light.

Amid mist and trees that looked to switch places each time took one's eyes off, there was attractive dancing lights. A shade of red if course, as every thing in this vision of Yrd's was black and red. Trying to find one's way amid the trees was not possible for beings on the level of goblins, but lights would always seem they were just around the corner. If they could pass by the next tree, the light would be there.

Yet it never was. The goblins tried climbing and digging even, but the light was always out of reach, even when it looked like a quick sprint would do it. Even though it wasn't real, and the goblins stuffed in an avatar couldn't tire, they never reached the light.

"It was very frustrating to the goblin, he tried many times, but then, that was what the warlock wanted..."

The goblins were themselves quite frustrated, and decided to take it out on the trees. Even for a goblin, they tasted foul. Black liquid so thick it was almost solid oozed out from the tree. The sap tasted no better, but the goblins amused themselves with mucking around with broken bark, branches and sap.

"Like you, joy was found, but not long lasting"

They felt a breath on their neck.
1/?

>>5734345
They turned around just in time to see teeth and death.

"In the lightless mists, the warlock had placed a lesser mist grue, not that the pitiful goblin knew that"

The grue found them faster and faster. It could be delayed somewhat by chasing after the lights, but sooner or later that mouth would chew their body up. Yrd spoke no more, and in time the goblins grew to a state that is most despised by all faekind.

Boredom.

With one voice they called out.
"Boring, boring, stop now, end now!"

A skeleton that looked like it was scetched with ruby fire appeared. A black halo outlined in red bled black blood all over its loathsome form.

"I didn't think you'd like that much, but that is what he felt too, but unlike him... you can easily escape. I can let you go... but if you leave now, you will never know the despair he felt.

BANE OF IMMORTALS
Perhaps a simple story would have been better. Was Yrd a baddie all this time, how could he make you all experience something like that!

EXPERIENCE OF BLOOD
Rolls will be done after voting.
>Let us go Gob, horrible story! (End the vision)
>Despair gob? (Roll 3d7, 300 and below results in the goblins begging to end the vision, which Yrd will do. Half of all present goblins immediately die on success, bypassing traits. All costs have a reward)
>What about those caves gob? (Roll 3d5, 200 and below and the goblins are unwilling to remain in the vision)

>>5734346
>Let us go Gob, horrible story! (End the vision)
I do not care about your vr world, wizard!

Rolled 5, 3 = 8 (2d5)

>>5734346
>What about those caves gob? (Roll 3d5, 200 and below and the goblins are unwilling to remain in the vision)
What do you mean by 200 and 300? Those are unreachable numbers with these dices

>>5734402
If you read 3d5 as 1st digit, 2nd digit and 3rd digit, for example a roll of 4,1,3 becomes 413.

Rolls will happen after votes though.

>>5734346
>What about those caves gob? (Roll 3d5, 200 and below and the goblins are unwilling to remain in the vision)
what about gave gob cave gob? dig dig dig eat crutons?

>>5734473
Ah, got it
>>5734481
And there's the gave cob and the cave cob

Visitors today, likely no update today. Perhaps Yrd sends the goblins through another loop of boredom.

>>5734346
>>Despair gob? (Roll 3d7, 300 and below results in the goblins begging to end the vision, which Yrd will do. Half of all present goblins immediately die on success, bypassing traits. All costs have a reward)

Rolled 1, 5, 5 = 11 (3d5)

>>5734346
>What about those caves gob? (Roll 3d5, 200 and below and the goblins are unwilling to remain in the vision)

Warming up the dice now.

>>5734346
Wait. Isn't roll 3d5 just asking to roll a 1d5 with extra steps? Because whatever the first d5 get is the deciding factor. Like no matter how good the other two are, 1-2 isnanfail and 3-5 is a pass for the first die.

Rolled 5, 5, 4 = 14 (3d5)

>>5735655
>>5735657

While I didn't think things through, technically only 1 is a fail.

2 can't ever fail due to the min roll of 2, 1, 1. If 100 was the fault point, it'd be an auto success

>>5734355
>>5734402
>>5734481
>>5735176
>>5735655
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck, Summon Crystal; The Queen of Dogma
Total Available Vampire Goblins: 25
Total Available Vampire Bakers: 9
Total Available Bards: 26
Total Vampire ashes: 6 bakers 8 goblins
Total Living Goods: 0
Total Undead Goods: 0
Total Baked Goods: 0
Total Devotees of Provenance: 10 goblins, 4 bakers
>Caves gob? (Rolled 155, will failed! However, a connection is made, the Fifth is after all, most fitting now)

A low sigh comes from Yrd in his skeletal blood halo form.
"A pity you all could not endure more, very well I shall release you, and tell a more usua..."
The red lights that passed for his eyes flickered, as a fitful flame or a faulty magelight, he lunged mid sentence towards the avatar the goblins were stuffed in, but all his hands grasped was a flood of blood that in spite of Yrd's authority as a blood origin slipped from his hands and vanished like a vain hope.

The goblins heard nothing, saw nothing, smelt nothing and tasted nothing. When their senses returned, they still could not see, but heavy was the scent of putrid blood, and ghostly clatter of chains sounded endlessly, like the bells of a profane temple.

There was however one other thing was clear, they were no longer stuffed into a single avatar, but were these their own bodies? Regardless they stretched their limbs about, glad to not be sharing a single body, novel as the experience was.

"Still in odd story?" A goblin questioned.
"Maybe" "Dunno" "All odd story?" "Ah, so outside story too?" "Better than father's" "Father bad at telling" "Boring" "Nice Din" "Rattle rattle" "Where rattle come?"

In spite of the danger of the sightless unknown, the goblins wandered around a bit.

"Ah, ground wet!" "Care, big wet?" "Stop stop?" "Mystery pond?" "More soup?"

"How noisy, I knew it would be so, but such roudy children he always has"

A soft and pleasing voice, if Yrd's was one to betwitch women, this woman's voice was the ruin of men. Sweet as honey and poison. The goblins with still quite a bit of poor discernment of beauty were not enchanted, but the complaint of noise gripped their throats and they could only produce soundless gurgles as they tried to talk anyway.

Something loomed above them, obscured in a veil of darkness deeper than mundane absence of light.

"What little cuties, I suppose it would be too boring if you didn't talk, especially with how much trouble it was for you all to come here, what detestable brutes those redskins are... hehe, but now it all changes"

Since she made the mistake of letting the goblins speak, speak they did.

"Where?" "Nice voice" "Clanking?" "Big?" "Hiding?" "Who?" "Cuties?" "Trouble?" "Sing?" "Very dark" "Wet, wet!" "Changes?"

1/?

>>5735911
There was of course more babbling than just that. A joyous laugh, hollow and pure filled the air.

"Why so many thoughts and voices, what lovely disorder, yes who could be called cuties if no you?"

The chains grew more frantic in their sounding, a beautiful melody, yet...

Even the goblins felt ill at ease, as if they had left their precious goblin cheeses out in open sight of a greed goblin. As if the King was about to put a goblin in timeout.

"Hmm, hmm. Oh if only I had met you all first, I'm sure that would have been the best. Such a shame so many of you are his children"

"Father?" "Bad at stories" "Ok" "Fine" "Sound nice too" "Rat fun!" "Bat fun!" "Eh, which better?" "Bat!" "Rat!"

The goblins began to argue about which was better to transform into, even the bard's who were not vampires picked sides.

"You know, I'm really good at stories... Let's see, a father? I suppose I can be your mother. Yes, a loving lovely mother"

"Stories?" "Tales!" "Just normal ones?" "No boring!"

"Of course, my adorable children, it's a little difficult, but I can tell you a wonderful story. Or if you did me a little favour, I could tell you an even more wonderous one. The best one, well that'd take some sacrifices, I couldn't ask that of my cuties, now could I? No, mother will settle for a wonderful story, you don't even have to do a favour for mother. All you have to do is gather around and listen, isn't that lovely?"

MOTHER IN THE DARK
Where this is, who this is, is a mystery but what goblin isn't up for a story?

TRIAL OF DISCERNMENT
Unless stated, majority rules.
>These goblins, these aren't up for this story
>More Wonderful than Wonderful story
>Use the Queen of Dogma (requires at least two votes, will prompt a goblin fight against other chosen options)
>Wonderful story mommy!
>Best story? Agree to the sacrifice
>Go back to arguing the merits of rats Vs bats (will provoke a violent fight between the two sides)
>Gob think hard (write in)

Additionally roll two 3d7 rolls, for person A and person B.

>>5735912
>Go back to arguing the merits of rats Vs bats (will provoke a violent fight between the two sides)
Bats are rats of the sky, and rats are bats of the earth! They area actually the same thing!

>>5735912
>>5735946
+1

Rolled 2, 4, 1 = 7 (3d7)

>>5735912
>>Go back to arguing the merits of rats Vs bats (will provoke a violent fight between the two sides)

Rolled 5, 4, 6 = 15 (3d7)

>>5735912

>>5735946
>>5735961
>>5736092
>>5736123
I did hesitate putting this option in you know, since I had a feeling it would be more attractive than the others.

I'll just have to work harder on making all options alluring.

12 Vs 12
4 Vs 4
13 Vs 13
1 vampire goblin and 1 vampire baker figure that rats and bats are the same.

Roll 2d12 vampire goblins
Roll 2d4 vampire bakers
Roll 2d13 bards

The lower roll are the losers and are KO'd.
The brawl will not be skipped over.

Rolled 8, 3 = 11 (2d12)

>>5736161
Rolling for the vamps.
I'm rotting for the philosoblin duo

Rolled 3, 3 = 6 (2d4)

>>5736161
rollin for vampyre bakers

Rolled 10, 3 = 13 (2d13)

>>5736161
Bards
To be fair this option has a brawl built right into it

No update today sorry.

>>5736666
Nice get, i hope you feel better soon

>>5736666
We will wait
>6666
This must be Provenance's doing. Or whoever is in charge of Heck.

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>5735946
>>5735961
>>5736092
>>5736169
>>5736196
>>5736348
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck, Summon Crystal; The Queen of Dogma
Total Vampire Goblins: 24
Total Vampire Bakers: 8
Total Bards: 25
Total Vampire ashes: 6 bakers 8 goblins
Total Devotees of Provenance: 9 goblins, 3 bakers
>Bats Vs Rat, violent disagreement
1 baker and 1 goblin abstain.
Between vampire goblins, Rats win! 12 KO'd!
Between vampire bakers, a draw! 8 KO'd!
Between bards, Rats win! 13 KO'd!
All hail the rat!
Available goblins: 1 vampire goblin, 1 vampire baker

The goblins got louder and louder. In spite of their size, they overcame the sound of the chains.

"Rat best!" "No bat!" "Gob stupid" "No brain!" "Flying nice!" "Still hands rat!" "Gob show gob!" "Dumb gob!"

Words ended and the goblins simply screamed at each other, then they threw themselves at each other with such force that a few were knocked out then and there! Pained cries came as goblins bit and scratched eachother. Apart from this melee that lacked the joy that goblins usually had when they brawled among themselves, stood two goblins.

A vampire goblin and a vampire baker.

The regular goblin was often known as Picky, a terrifyingly skinny female who had lost her indescriminate nature somewhat. She was obessessed with the few things she deemed treasures. If anything turning into a vampire had just displayed how little meat their was on her bones, and with how little body fur or carapace she had, her now pale green skin certainly displayed her impoverished flesh. She could be considered a little odd for a goblin with how few verminous parts she had. Her feet were red paws and her hands were just as fuzzy. Her head however was as bald as most are, only if she became a noble would that head become covered. Her most frequent cause of death was starvation.

The vampire baker, simply known as Fat Fuzz (Goblins named Fat or Thin often get an extra name), was Picky's opposite in many ways. A corpulent male goblin whose first order of business when respawning was gaining weight. He just didn't feel comfortable without several neck rolls. His body was covered in thick matted fur, almost making him look like a black teddy bear, but his typical bald goblin head broke the illusion. That said, one could only just about see this head from within folds of fur covered fat. Still, the pale yellow nose and ears easily stood out of course. Fat Fuzz was indescriminate indeed, though he was less fond of more inedible things. As a goblin that could have become a Glutton Goblin, edible mostly meant whatever he could fit in his mouth and maybe chew. How he could still move and even do things with his fingers was a mystery. His most frequent cause of death was things like heart failure.

1/?

>>5737635
One fat, one thin, united in their opinion that bats were rats of the skies and rats were bats of the soil. Fat Fuzz had not yet figured out how to keep his goblin form while transforming a hand into a rat. He figured once he succeeded, he'd have an infinite source of rats to eat.

Looking at the goblins savagely fighting, the pair began to feel that something was amiss.

"Gobs really care about this" Picky mused.
"Silly gobs, both taste fine" Fat Fuzz replied.

Well, that was as far as the misgivings went. They nervously watched a goblin go on a throttling spree, the only thing that stopped the mighty strangler from killing goblins was that there was always more necks to strangle. An ear flew out and hit Picky in the face. Fat Fuzz helpfully pulled it off, gentlegoblin that he was. He looked at the ear for a bit, drool slipping out, but threw it away in the end.

Cannibalism is often punished by goblin king due to the constant death spirals it creates if the goblins gain a taste for their own flesh. Fat Fuzz didn't quite understand that eating his own rats would still be cannibalism. Something having the form of a rat but not the essence was far to large of an idea for a single goblin.

Speaking of cannibalism the current brawl almost looked like a goblin cannibal feast, but if you swallowed it was hard to keep biting. In the end the bakers all fainted after being used as blunt weapons by the other goblins, but the decisive use of these tactical blunt bakers proved to push victory into the hands of the rat advocates, since they managed to snatch the other side's unconscious bakers.

Bakers in hand, they stood upon groaning heaps of their foes, howling their victory. Rats forever! All of the winners eyes shone a fevered red, even the bards' who were not vampires.

"Oh, what a lovely display, but is this really how it ends? Well, it's best to make up and be friends after a fight, it wouldn't do to do more. No even if they do like bats, they're fellow goblins, aren't they?" She who was shadowed spoke again.

"Bat likers fellows?" "Nasty" "Disgusting" "Teach them lesson?" "Don't need them!" "Away!" "No loser gobs!"

The chains fitfully rattled, as if they were chained themselves and not the ones doing the chaining. She laughed, and the laughter filled the goblins' ears. Fat Fuzz and Picky frowned, somehow finding the laughter displeasing. As the victorious goblins turned their strange eyes on their fallen fellows, everything slowed, and the beating of Fat Fuzz and Picky's hearts overcame the laughter and chains clawing at their ears.

A voice, somewhat familiar spoke from their blood.

"You... still... senses... nightmare... time... soon... stop... before..."

Fragmented and muffled as if speaking through layers of cotton, his voice reached them.

2/3

>>5737636
RATSRASRATSNEEDNOBATS
Something is amiss, and the victors have lost their senses. In this darkness, amid laughter chains, feverish gazes and a mysterious message what will Fat Fuzz and Picky do? Both will roll 3d6 for all trials. Since Fat Fuzz and Picky roll 3d6, for life and death, counts the most favourable die roll. Fat Fuzz and Picky can choose different actions, but a player can only pick for one.

TRIAL OF SACRIFICE
Survival only on 6, Half of Average must be beaten. QM will roll 1d6, if the first number matches this, the goblins fail, even if they survive.
>Declare the forbidden logic, bats and rats are the same! (Failure is particularly grim in this case, but surely if their words reach all will be right)
>Who says two or one can't defeat many?(To the victor, the spoils of fate)
>Find the chains, rattle them super loud! (Some instinct suggests this works)

TRIAL OF FATE
All trials are major, thus 1-3 are deaths.
>Transform into rats and distract the others!
>Transform into bats and distract the others!
>Throw a goblin tantrum

OTHER
>Gob cunning (Is there some knowledge that could help here? Perhaps something has been missed. Write in a plan or bring up something that could be of use)

>>5737637
>Throw a goblin tantrum

>>5737637
>Transform into bats and distract the others!

>>5737637
>Gob cunning

Ask which rats are better though, black rats or white rats?

Divide and conquer, whittle them down!

Rolled 3, 4, 2 = 9 (3d6)

>>5737637
>>Find the chains, rattle them super loud! (Some instinct suggests this works)
Sounds the most fun
Rolling Picky

Woke late and wasted most of the day with vampire survivors. I'll write tomorrow instead of trying to fit it in now.

My apologies.

>>5738754
If our goblins win, then they would become vampire survivors too.

>>5738754
I may have missed yesterday and today but they say the third time is the charm...

Hmm, that could be taken the wrong way. All I can say is sorry once more.

Rolled 3, 1, 1 = 5 (3d6)

>>5739549
Let's see if either of our two goblins lives.

>>5740276
RIP

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>5738250
Writing now.

>>5741183
Woo

>>5737657
>>5737726
>>5738016
>>5738250
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck, Summon Crystal; The Queen of Dogma
Total Vampire Goblins: 21
Total Vampire Bakers: 5
Total Bards: 23
Total Vampire ashes: 7 bakers (Fat Fuzz included) 8 goblins
Total Devotees of Provenance: 7 goblins, 1 bakers
>Rattle the chains! Trial of Sacrifice, DOOM roll matched first roll, Failure and Binding, was it all in vain?
>Transform into bats! Distract! Trial of Fate! Rolled 5! Failure! Death! A baleful roll, is all hope lost?
>Which rats are better though, black rats or white rats? Will these words reach?

Unlike the horrifying mysteries of entities like Provenance, Lady Luck, The Stars, Jack of Elements or the Beast of Mists, Pursuance is quite comprehensible. No madness comes from knowledge of its presence, no destruction of a form unfit for revelation. It's quite simple, such that even goblins and beings like flower fairies know this universal truth.

Pursuance just hates you.
Pursuance just hates everyone.
Pursuance just hates everything else too.

While Pursuance's desire for suffering, ruin and corruption of all things is painfully clear from its actions, things get a little murky as to the why. There's a lot of explainations, some even going so far as to claim that Pursuance's hate is of the noble and justified kind, and all creation deserves it. Of course those who have heard Pursuance's voice and not fallen to ruin would never believe it. Notably the denizens of Heck have another name for Pursuance.

Traitor.

If not for that, many would never connect the ineffable Provenance with the Royal of Scorn. Of course few trust the torturers of Heck, and many even have a bad feeling that Pursuance is merely the active portion of Provenance.

Goblins actually have a belief about Pursuance's motives. It cannot have fun, so it doesn't want others to have fun. A simple conclusion, and certainly the hate of Pursuance can be astonishingly petty. One could blame goblins for curdling the milk still in one's livestock, and Pursuance just as easily gets blamed. Truthfully it really will do it.

Goblins do it because they're disgusting idiots who probably tried singing or making cheese without milking, but Pursuance really does hate you and your cow. Those weevils in your flour? All Pursuance. A seemingly benign example of spite, but when hunger comes and your neighbour has flour and you don't, you can't eat your cow, there's no future if you do that. Oh, isn't your hoe looking sharp and shiny. You never liked Ragnar anyway, always parading his fat pigs about...

A lot of the time, it doesn't speak directly. It just whispers the same trick over and over, 'you'll be better off if you do this'.

1/?

>>5741334
Next thing you know you're on an executioner's chopping block after a life where things just seem to get worse and worse. You came to love spilling blood and now a crowd takes joy in yours being spilt. All because you listened to that little whisper after weevils ate your flour.

Pursuance hates you, your cow, and even the weevils it used, after all, you ate the weevils first when hunger came.

One might wonder why all this about Pursuance. Weren't Fat Fuzz and Picky facing the distinct possibility of their fellow goblins tearing apart the advocates of bats limb from limb?

Well, Pursuance hates Fat Fuzz and Picky too.

After all, even two little goblins in a situation far beyond the abilities of goblins are part of the 'everything' that it hates.

Goblins so long as they aren't abnormal freaks like fisher goblins are beings of action. A thought intrudes and they act on it! Thus not a word to each other Fat Fuzz burst into a cloud of bats and began to harass the goblins that had fevered eyes. He didn't quite know what was going on, but he had a feeling that if he didn't do this, a bad thing would happen. Had he grown under a cruel goblin monarch, he'd have just sat back to watch a good show. The Goblin King above Others however was a bit of a softy.

Only towards his own goblins though, and he did toss a bunch into heck for his own amusement.

Picky didn't help Fat Fuzz at all. Some other instinct clawed at her head, scrabbled at her ears, crawled inside the holes. The chains.

The chains.

The sound of the chains.

A terror gripped her heart in spite of a goblin's usual indifference to death. She had to find them. If she could rattle them...

Everyone could have fun again if she found them.

"Gob bake some bread and laugh again"

She wandered out seeking the sound of the chains. She had hardly taken a few steps when the sounds and sights of the other goblins vanished.

Not even the sound of chains could be heard. It wasn't Pursuance, but a gaze of one that hated her froze her. She spoke. The one in the dark. But, if her voice before was hollow sweetness...

If there was a voice like a rotten fruit, this was it. A sneering snide and sinister wretch, with only just enough womanliness to disgust one with how vile something female could sound.

"I see inside your flesh. I see through your bones. I know your mind. Pathetic runt, imprisoned by your master, cursed to never grow. Your monarch will never reach you here, you dare to seek these detestable fetters that bind me here? So close, if you could find them, agitate surely it would stop me. Ahahaha! But what can a deformed and disgusting creature like you. No, you get to stay with Mother."

Picky's eyes glazed over and she fell as a puppet with its strings cut. There's many ways to keep a being that respawns trapped. In the case of goblins, most never trap after all, goblins are easily killed. Surely if that thing spoke true, Picky would be trapped forevermore...
2/?

>>5741339
Ah, Pursuance would laugh. Laugh it did. She laughed too.

Some say evil comes in pairs, misfortune certainly often dogs at the heels of misfortune. Fat Fuzz had certainly distracted the other goblins. However...

A wet thud.

His body laid among the crazed goblins. He hadn't known, but each bat was a part of his body and as the goblins crushed them, he couldn't maintain the transformation into bats.

Like most goblins he was familiar to the sensation of death. A near corpse riddled with holes. Even a vampire goblin is still a vampire, so it wasn't quite fatal yet. His addled companions would solve that soon. They punched, kicked and tore. Fallen into frenzy by the looks of it.

Just as Fat Fuzz was giving up, with his final breaths he spoke.

"Rats good, but white or black better?"

Then he died. But the goblins were no longer as frenzied. They looked at each other in confusion.

"Black best, blend with night!" "White rare! White best!" "White weak, sickly. Black strong!" "White magic powers!"

Well, it was certainly true that albinos have magic powers. It was why only mages favoured white rats as lab animals. Regular folk had trouble enough with normal rats, let alone ones with magic to their blood, or mystics in their eyes, and albinos have both.

"Getting blacks easier!" "That why not as good!"

"Mother would say that either is fine, isn't it? They're all rats, the important thing is that they aren't bats!"

"Nothing wrong with bats!" "Just prefer rats!" "Either not fine!" "One be better!"

The goblins got to arguing again, no longer frenzied and quite ignoring the fellows that they had knocked out, that moments ago they were about to savage.

The rattling grew larger, as if something was straining against the chains.

"Useless goblins, so easily distracted. There's no time, I'll just swallow you whole."

A trickling sound, and the thin layer of liquid, like and unlike blood began to rose around the feet of the goblins, and as it did, a fog lifted from their minds. Even the unconscious goblins woke with a jolt, as like a dog that while sleeping had rolled into fire.

They felt it then. They were in the presence of something indescribably foul. A being utterly opposed to their existence. Malice in material form. They saw that a number of their fellows had vanished!

>Sealed Goblins: 4 goblin provenance devotees, 4 baker provenance devotees 4 bards

3/?

>>5741340
PEON OF SCORN
>The Peon of Scorn was sealing goblins! It started with 1, sealing equal to the number of goblins it has sealed! Next it will seal 4 of each goblin type!
It isn't quite clear how the goblins ended up connecting to this vile entity, but they know deep in their bones that this is something that wishes them ill. Only a power beyond them can aid them now, there is but one chance, fail and this adventure may come to an end.

TRIAL OF DISCERNMENT
Beware, for some paths lead only to doom.
>Cry out to Yrd
>Cry out to the Goblin King
>Pray to Provenance (available since the Peon of Scorn failed to seal all the believers)
>Sing a Dirge, for all hope is lost
>Lady Luck, don't count our bones now! (Roll 3d777, favourable threshold unknown)
>Wish upon a Star, they are always watching after all!
>Gobs're Gobbed! (write in)

>>5741341
>>Cry out to the Goblin King

>>5741341
>Pray to Provenance (available since the Peon of Scorn failed to seal all the believers)

>>5741341
>Cry out to the Goblin King

Killing is one thing but this is stealing from him!

Rolled 723, 457, 268 = 1448 (3d777)

>>5741341
>>Lady Luck, don't count our bones now! (Roll 3d777, favourable threshold unknown)
I just like rolling

Rolled 344, 773, 423 = 1540 (3d777)

>>5741606
Fuck who doesn't?

Rolled 2, 7, 1 = 10 (3d7)

>>5741360
>>5741385
>>5741431
>>5741606
>>5741663
There's two main ways I could go with this, I am undecided, thus I'll leave it up to Lady Luck.

Either way means good news for the goblins, but... the current adventure may end here

>>5742240
As long as the gobs can return to the King to adventure another day, it's all good.
We had fun and got a new dad, so it was a good romp.

Rolled 4, 1, 6 = 11 (3d6)

>>5741360
>>5741385
>>5741431
>>5741606
>>5741663
Quest: Seek the Terrifying Tulip of Torment
Spoils: Tearborn Coals of Self Torment, Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling, Badly Understood Knowledge of Evil Scourging, The Words of Lemmick, Plentiful Lard of Heck, Summon Crystal; The Queen of Dogma
Total Vampire Goblins: 17
Total Vampire Bakers: 2
Total Bards: 19
Total Vampire ashes: 7 bakers (Fat Fuzz included) 8 goblins
Total Devotees of Provenance: 3 goblins
Sealed Goblins: 8 goblin provenance devotees, 5 baker provenance devotees, 8 bards, 3 Bakers
>Cry out for the goblin king
>Pray to Provenance
>Lady Luck, don't count our bones! No absurd fortune, no grim misfortune will she show favour?

The goblins could hardly be blamed for calling out to their King. Deep was their trust and faith in him. Yet, as powerful as he was, as ancient as he was...

Surely he could pull the tail of Tiger Divine and come out unscathed. He could weave and unweave mighty spells. Bully prideful powerful dragons. Harass mighty gods. He could even face mystery and live merely tired.

He was however, far far away.

The faith of the goblins was merited, he would surely eventually hear their cries. Indeed he knew something was amiss at this point.

But within something kin to a dream, then in a vision of a sealed space all of this within Heck, a plane of existence separate from Absurdia. It was already amazing that the King could meddle with Heck at all.

So, they pitifully cried out, and She in the dark laughed, and laughed as unseen bloodwaters rose lapping up their thighs. They cried out, but nothing happened. In the end, like the gods, he was merely powerful not all-powerful.

Nothing happened but the ichor rising, clinging to their bodies.

So, even goblins are people. Their faith wasn't broken, but great was their fear of Her. They instinctually knew that once the tainted waters covered them, a grim fate with little hope awaited.

So, many hoped. They just hoped they'd get lucky. They hoped something would change in their favour. Well, something did.

Three vampire goblins. Each one had vividedly experienced Provenance's presence. They were not goblin priests, nor goblin zealots. Unlike them they didn't know how to pray. They didn't really know much of anything, all they had was that revelation, taken from the careless consumption of the flesh of a tortured undead named Dunn.

Of a being whose very existence was poison to lesser beings like goblins. On this, these three goblins meditated. Ah, was it will of Provenance or luck that they were vampires now? They could endure a little longer pondering that horrifying mystery, that scourging glory.

They would have fallen beneath the ichor, immobilized by the strain of even that brief experience. Was it luck that the other goblins noticed their oddity? That they formed a tower of goblins to keep these three away from the ichor even as the flesh melted off the bones of the three?

1/?

>>5742326
Her laughter stopped. She did not speak, instead was the savage cries of a monster, yet...

For all that noise, that was clearly fear, and as the melted flesh of the three devotees hit the ichor...

Briefly it retreated.

A tower of goblins and three skeletons sheathed in emerald light. The waves rose and tore at the tower of goblins, but only moans came as the goblins had twisted themselves around each other so tightly that bones broke.

From the feet up, the now jade-like skeletons crumbled and the waters flinched with each bit of bone-dust that fell in. The tower did not endure. The goblins were all swept away.

All that remained, hanging in the air, the waters not daring to touch were three skulls. The sound of chains grew louder and then, came a loud clank. The waters froze, and the skulls burnt to nothing, for such was the fate of the imperfect gazing upon the perfect.

A light appeared. An eye of flame. A tear of power.

"We, Demon Warden have detected a disturbance in the oubliette. Anomalies detected in the prison, wards and prisoner. Foreign elements detected."

"No! Curse you Lady Luck! To give so rare a chance only for it all to slip away! Curse you despicable Source! My curse upon you goblins! My curse upon your King, upon you loathsome jai..."

"Silence. Beginning cleanse"

Then, there was only flame bearing revelation and Her screams of agony and frustration.

>Her name unknown, her nature unspoken. In future adventures when matters take a turn for the worse, there's a chance She'll add to the burden. Should his goblins encounter Her followers, surely there will be conflict.

In the end, one could consider it coincidence, after all even detecting nothing, surely there was routine inspections?

Yrd opened his eyes to the last few drifting motes of gold. His face was dissatisfied.

"Not one survived?" Lemmick asked.
"No, they all live each returned to their King, I was too late."
"Well, that's a relief, that none were claimed"

Yrd did not reply, he began to walk out of the small imp village.

"Where are you going now?"
"I shall complete their task, and pluck a flower for a King"

Lemmick did not follow. Instead the ground swallowed the penitent undead. It would continue its self-scourging.

A lonely ancient slowly walked, feeling new connections growing as distant as the old ones.

"What is a few more little regrets..." He muttered.

>In quests relating to blood or vampires or If vampire goblins are chosen, Yrd will send a projection to witness the goblins' adventures. Vampires descended from Yrd will feel a kinship even with the non-vampire goblins

Back in the Goblin King's castle, the goblins appeared and slowly began to forget all about the details of their adventures. Yet the devotees of Provenance joined the ranks of the others who believed, and the vampires mingled with the other vampire goblins.

They'd muck about with the other goblins in due time.

2/?

>>5742327
As for the bards, they were back to their cacophonics, they'd likely forget the whole thing completely.

>Adventure Complete
>Earned an adventure reward for completion, earned an adventure reward and 2 quest rewards for facing a Peon of Scorn and not losing any goblins to corruption.
>Quest Failed, rewards not doubled
>No goblin became a noble
>Unlocks: Goblins of the Cloth(super category), In-Bread Goblins, Vampire Goblins
>Quest Rewards: 2
>Adventure Rewards: 4


WALL OF CHOICES INCOMING!!!

>Current Starting Stats;
15 starting goblins
5 starting variants

1 die slot containing 1d50 goblins(Roll and slot fixed, cannot be altered)
2 free dice slots
2d18 goblin variants
1d50 goblins
With the current dice, only one variant can be chosen from the random selection.


The same rewards can be chosen multiple times
QUEST REWARDS
>More goblins! Gain a die slot and roll an extra 1d50 at adventure start (permanent)
>Let's check on a noble! 1d6 updates of a noble's situation, along with a few choices REQUIRES 2 rewards, will cost more each time it is chosen.
>Special Goblins!
One of your 1d50 rolls will instead be a 1d25 for a band of goblin variants (permanent) Cannot be done on fixed dice
>King's Gift!
3d6 on the table of things for an artefact from the King's dusty vault. The artefact is added to the Spoils section when starting an adventure. (permanent)
>King's Summon!
Spend 2 rewards to gain a random summon crystal.
>King's Favour!
In a moment of fate, at least one goblin will live, consumed on use
>The Goblins returned!
Go back to a place you adventures in before (Cannot pick the location of the last played run) REQUIRES 2 rewards, will cost more each time it is chosen.
>Bank the points

ADVENTURE REWARDS
>More goblins!
5 extra starting goblins (permanent)
>More goblins Awkwardly!
1d50 goblins, but no die slot.
>Prepare for Goblins!
Gain a die slot.
>Let's check on a noble! Only for 1 update, no choices. (Cannot pick newly minted nobles) If chosen multiple times, choices will be available.
>King's Mirth!
Gain one reroll, usable on anything, consumed on use, may prove useless!
>Oh, that goblin!
When the goblins reach below ten in number, force one of the remaining goblins to be a goblin of your choice
>King's Cruelty!
Send out a band of 10 goblins, but for any nobles to result, you need to complete two quests
>King's Quest!
Gain a second quest this adventure
>More Spoils!
Bring an extra spoil on your adventure.
>More goblins, alternative!
Add +10 faces to an existing goblin band roll at adventure start (permanent)
>Split a Goblin die
Add +1 to its count, for example 1d50 becomes 2d25 (permanent) Cannot be used on fixed dice
>Bank the rewards

3/?

>>5742328
>SPOILS!
Pick one Treasure and either an Artefact or Summon Crystal to bring on the next adventure.
TREASURES
Only return to the castle if they are lost. Spending them or using them to make things doesn't count as lost.
>Soiled Witch's Bed
Does nothing, but it is a bed
>Ghostly treasure
Valuable, can be sold, but who will sell to a large band? The band would have to beat a small group into going to sell.
>Tree trunk from Hiddledink
Enchanted wood of the mad forest, perhaps a craftsman can make something of this.
>Metal-eater Honey
A sweet and metallic honey prized as a reagent by those that cannot safely eat it, and a delicacy by those that can.
>Whale's Eye of Hatred
A ruby like red eye, it is filled with a grudge.
>Golden bones of a spearfish
Quite valuable, metal eaters love soup made from these.
>Tearborn Coals of Self Torment
Bloody tears turned to ruby coals, wept when goblins experienced Provenance.
>Plentiful Lard of Heck
Technically its' from the tormented in Heck rather than heck itself.
>Instruction Manual of Sinner Grilling
A helpful cheery text detailing some of the methods of Heck. A classic.

ARTEFACTS
Unless Stated otherwise all Artefacts return to the castle on use
>Diced Mice Statues
Once per adventure, find a direction, but it won't work if the distance is too large.
>Forest God's Drinking Horn
Doubles the next roll's result when drunk, once per adventure.
>Leering Lily
A white lily with a pink eye, when picked the stem becomes a mirror that shows all the lily blossom can see. Single use.

SUMMONS
All return to the castle on use
>Summon Crystal: Knave of Secrets
Remains of a great thief, can uncover the hidden, or hide the uncovered.
>Summon Crystal: Peon of Destruction
A desperate strike is all that remained at the end of his journey. 3 uses
>Summon Crystal: Queen of Dogma
Remains of an enchantress who lost to love and truth, her word still wounds and welds. Her beauty is still untainted, revelation greets her face.

STARTING LOCATIONS!
>The foot of a snowy mountain where the noble Hero Bough rules from a throne of dragon bone...

>Uhh, isn't that underwater, Goblin King, we can't breathe underwater! Eh? Is that a fortress sunk to the bottom?

>The walls are meaty, ghastly worm-like things gnaw through the flesh...

>Is that a cloud? Goblin King, Goblin King, we goblins can't fly either! Eh, an emerald field of grass?

>Just barely a woman, a beauty marred by dirt and malnourishement lies upon a heap of ashes, weeping...

>Strange beings with bulbous rocky heads are cowering in ruins...

>Atop a table is a crystal ball, within is a castle and its grounds, banners and tents festively preside there. Within the castle is a table with a crystal ball, within that, a castle and its grounds...

>Atop a lonely hill of harvested wheat is a burning white mansion, the door and windows aflame...

Finally, roll 3d30 for your pool of available Variants.

Rolled 17, 19, 20 = 56 (3d30)

>>5742330
>More goblins!
>Special Goblins!

>More goblins!
>More goblins Awkwardly!
>Prepare for Goblins!
>More goblins, alternative!
I could have picked the standard goblins 4 times, but it would be boring!

>Ghostly treasure

>Summon Crystal: Knave of Secrets

>Just barely a woman, a beauty marred by dirt and malnourishement lies upon a heap of ashes, weeping...
Why is pretty lady sad? Gobs will cheer her up!