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The complete biography of Snotrobber the goblin.
************************************************
Snotrobber coughed and waved purple smoke away from his face, the rapid
motion causing his ill-fitting iron skull cap to slip down and cover
his eyes. He cursed extensively and pushed the orcish helm back up onto
the top of his head, then tried to figure out what had happened. He was
in a room he didn't recognise, and some crazy wizardy-type was waving
his arms about on the far side.
"Poncy bloody wizards," He muttered, "disturbing a body with their
stupid spells and smokes."
He fumbled in his grotty loincloth for the crude dagger that he always
kept there, wielding it and focussing his rage upon the spellcaster.
"What does he want me for anyway? I was quite happy..." And he stopped.
What _had_ he been doing before the wizard had summoned him? Where had
he been? This room was unfamiliar, but could he think of any room that
was? Try as he might, he couldn't remember. This was mad. Where did he
live? Where had he come from?
Just then, the wizard's arm-waving reached a crescendo, and a huge
cloud of purple smoke puffed into existence right next to Snotrobber. A
coughing sound soon issued from within, and the smoke cleared to reveal
a comely green-elf maiden, respendently clad in the elegant garb of her
people. As the coughing subsided, the elf looked disdainfully down at
Snotrobber, and he leered lewdly back. Then, as though commanded by
some power that overrode even her loathing of goblins, her eyes turned
darkly to the spellcaster, who was once again beginning a fresh
incantation.
The elf-maiden drew from her belt an impressive looking runed sword and
slashed the air a few times, inflating her chest to assert a haughty
challenge. "Who dares intrude upon my wooded domai..." her voice
trailed off as she looked at the slime-caked rock walls and stinking
bone-scattered floor of her dingy surroundings. "Where..?"
She glanced briefly back at Snotrobber, who shrugged his shoulders and
had another good leer.
As one they looked back to wizard and raised their respective weapons,
driven by a common hatred that neither one could explain or define.
Another cloud of purple erupted behind them as the new spell peaked,
but they charged on oblivious, their only thought to kill this upstart
conjurer. Crossing the altar that seperated them from their quarry, the
attackers caught a flash of too-keen metal blurring in the
spellcaster's hand. A moment later, as the elf maiden lay dead on the
altar and Snotrobber the gobln watched his brief life flash before his
dying eyes, his last thought and only regret was that he would have
liked one more really good leer.
The complete biography of Snotrobber the goblin.
************************************************
Snotrobber coughed and waved purple smoke away from his face, the rapid
motion causing his ill-fitting iron skull cap to slip down and cover
his eyes. He cursed extensively and pushed the orcish helm back up onto
the top of his head, then tried to figure out what had happened. He was
in a room he didn't recognise, and some crazy wizardy-type was waving
his arms about on the far side.
"Poncy bloody wizards," He muttered, "disturbing a body with their
stupid spells and smokes."
He fumbled in his grotty loincloth for the crude dagger that he always
kept there, wielding it and focussing his rage upon the spellcaster.
"What does he want me for anyway? I was quite happy..." And he stopped.
What _had_ he been doing before the wizard had summoned him? Where had
he been? This room was unfamiliar, but could he think of any room that
was? Try as he might, he couldn't remember. This was mad. Where did he
live? Where had he come from?
Just then, the wizard's arm-waving reached a crescendo, and a huge
cloud of purple smoke puffed into existence right next to Snotrobber. A
coughing sound soon issued from within, and the smoke cleared to reveal
a comely green-elf maiden, respendently clad in the elegant garb of her
people. As the coughing subsided, the elf looked disdainfully down at
Snotrobber, and he leered lewdly back. Then, as though commanded by
some power that overrode even her loathing of goblins, her eyes turned
darkly to the spellcaster, who was once again beginning a fresh
incantation.
The elf-maiden drew from her belt an impressive looking runed sword and
slashed the air a few times, inflating her chest to assert a haughty
challenge. "Who dares intrude upon my wooded domai..." her voice
trailed off as she looked at the slime-caked rock walls and stinking
bone-scattered floor of her dingy surroundings. "Where..?"
She glanced briefly back at Snotrobber, who shrugged his shoulders and
had another good leer.
As one they looked back to wizard and raised their respective weapons,
driven by a common hatred that neither one could explain or define.
Another cloud of purple erupted behind them as the new spell peaked,
but they charged on oblivious, their only thought to kill this upstart
conjurer. Crossing the altar that seperated them from their quarry, the
attackers caught a flash of too-keen metal blurring in the
spellcaster's hand. A moment later, as the elf maiden lay dead on the
altar and Snotrobber the gobln watched his brief life flash before his
dying eyes, his last thought and only regret was that he would have
liked one more really good leer.
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