A Goblin's Life! (Closed to White_Jade)

[iridium248]

Far, far above the world of Sanctuary, the Gods play Games of Divinity, moving their followers like chess pieces across the world. To play is to live, for to a God, the two are the same; The only coin they gamble with are the souls of their worshippers, in the endless, eternal struggle for one to emerge victorious...

And so they play on, with their priests, their warriors as their pawns, to be gained, ventured, and lost as they will-

But sometimes, even the gods forget what happens if you let a pawn cross all the way across the board.

Skizzit, the goblin god, was a rare presence at the Games. His benighted race, without any of the advantages rendered to others, clung on with the tenacity of vermin- Each time he played, he lost, consistently, though he preferred to spend most of his time working mischief on the world below...Or so they all thought, if anyone cared what a goblin does in his free time.

But even the world of Sanctuary has the Rules, defined a long, long time ago by the Elder God, Gix, before he ventured off to wander the stars once more- Arcane rules that determine the power and lives of the mortals who lived, fought and died beneath the watchful gaze of their Gods...Though usually, most just shrugged their shoulders and carried on.

And so, when Skizzit trundled up to the table one day, the souls of ten thousand of his followers jingling in his tarrasque-hide sack, he raised quite a few eyebrows...Especially when he said he had a wager to make. He was a late entrant, but he was going all the way in a Contest of Might- *His* followers versus a challenger's, the prize resting on the outcome.

Of course, considering the sneaky smile on his leathery face, it didn't take an Immortal to suspect that something was up- But it is very, very difficult to cheat in the Games, and ten thousand souls is a princely sum.

Besides, Skizzit was only going to use-

One. Single. Goblin.

It would be only a matter of time before someone took him up on his offer...

[White_Jade]

"Skizzit. I'm surprised they even let you in here." The voice was silken and smooth; yet cruel and malicious. The voice belonged to Urshea, the Bitch Goddess of the Sea. She was the tempestuous, dangerous, vicious and unpredictible aspect of the oceans. She was tall and lush, her breasts huge, ripe, and firm, her ass a perfect delight, her face beautiful, but her eyes were hard, hungry, and cruel. "But you shouldn't have to play alone. Let me play you, Goblin God."

She approached, a gown that was ever changing slung over her ripe body. She sniffed, smelling the stink of the ten thousand souls he had brought. Urshea was greedy. She always wanted more, no matter how much she was given. "Ten thousand souls...." she smacked her lips. "Well, then, let's play. Your followers against mine."

[iridium248]

Skizzit swallowed, hard, as Urshea's sultry challenge; The goblin god's gaze roamed over the goddess's lovely form, barely concealed beneath her iridiscent gown- But he'd come too far to back down now, hadn't he? Besides, Da Plan was still foremost in his mind, and he'd to start somewhere...

"O' course, Urshea," he answered, with an enthuastic nod, and a leering smile. "Da game's simple; I's using *this* here gobbo-" A jab of a fingers indicated the crudely-carved figure; Where other gods had exquisitely detailed replicas of their followers, usually in white matble, Skizzit had crude, lumpy figures carved from wood- With the barest details to mark them apart. After all, a goblin was a goblin...

"-'gainst any one you choose. If you win, this 'ere is all yours...But if you *lose*..." And Skizzit gulped, trying to still the churning discomfort in his belly; Maybe this lovely, dangerous goddess hadn't been the place to start... "You send down one o' your avatars to my boyz...For da night." He tried to smile lascivously, though it was a trifle hard to see past his yellow-fanged grin. "Deal?"

*****************

Somewhere on Sanctuary...

Nbox Giantdread, most recently of the Muckshade tribe, cursed as he splashed through the swamp; A short runt of a humanoid, topping a mere four and a half feet in height, he looked like a typical example of his misbegotten race- Small of stature, hunched, with leathery green skin, a bald skull, and entirely scrawny...Little more than cannon fodder for a PC.

How could he have been so stupid?

He'd *known* ol' One-Eye had never liked him; The grungy shaman had always talked about 'leavin' that little gut tugger for the fire ants'...He should've seen it coming, when the ancient goblin smile that nasty, fangy smile at him, and said: "Skizzit decress! This 'ere rotter is chosen for da Long Walk!"

At first, he'd thought last night's fungus beer had given him a bad nightmare...But there'd been nothing dreamlike about the way they'd forced him, at spearpoint, to the edge of their little village in the swamps- And given him a ceremonial boot in the ass to get him going.

So here he was now, with nothin' more than his second-best blowpipe, his best loincloth...Oh, and his magic pouch. At least they'd let him take some stuff first...But ol' One-Eye was a wise one. He'd put this shiny thing around Nbox's neck, which didn't come off no matter how hard he pawed at it- 'Da Eye of Skizzit', he'd called it. "So's we can see whence yooze coming back..."

The Eye had been dragging him onward since he'd left. Nothing specific- A tug here, a pull there, slowly but surely *leading* him in a certain direction...And, with typical goblin resignation, Nbox had little choice but to follow...

Oh, well...At least it'd be dry where he was going...

What Nbox didn't know was that, miserable as he was, he was something *more* than his cannon-fodder tribemates. For, you see, the weird sensations he'd been feeling as a yoof- The way things fell into his hands, or got zapped when he sneezed- meant that he was something...Or rather, someone special.

For Nbox was the first Goblin PC in a long, long time, and he had little idea what destiny had in store for him...

[White_Jade]

Urshea reached back and slapped the Goblin God hard, rattling his yellowed, ugly teeth in his sallow, ugly head. Then she smiled, her mouth seeming a little too large, showing a bit too much tooth, her appearance taking on almost a shark-like aspect. "Deal."

One hand dipped into her cleavage and a moment later, pulled out a figurine scrimshawed from the tooth of a great whale. So easy. It was already won, really. "Let the game," she placed the figurine down at where a river emptied into the sea, "begin."

************

The hunter swam upstream, driven by the dream that had haunted her, and an irresistible pull. She was fortunate in that her kind could breathe salt water, fresh water, and air. She could even change herself to a more terrestrial form if need be. If need be.

She was much like the image of her goddess; heartbreakingly beautiful, with luxurious seaweed green hair tumbling down her sleek, curvaceous body. But much like her patron diety; there was deep malice and cruelty in her sweet smile.

Erynes the mermaid swam upstream, his mind turning over the dream. There was something here she was supposed to do. Someone she was supposed to kill. A runty, weak-looking green land thing. How easy it would be! She'd put herself in his way, perch on a rock in the river, sing her siren's song and drown him in the rushing current. Then the goddess would be please, and she would not be punished. Or perhaps she would anyway. Urshea was not kind, even to those she claimed to love. Especially to those she claimed to love.

[iridium248]

Skizzit reeled back, his head ringing from the divine...Uh...bitch-slap; When the goblin god realised all his teeth were still in place, a anticipatory shudder crawled up his spine- She'd said *yes*!

The gap-toothed grin slithered off his face, though, as Urshea's piece clunked onto the table. But he was already committed...The god's tongue wormed over his greasy lips, as his taloned hands closed around the shining docahedrons of the Dice. "'ere we go," he croaked, and set them rolling...

*************

"Owwww!" Nbox's complaining shriek rang through the marshes, his hands stinging at the jolt he'd just received; The Eye had been *pulling* on him, tugging urgently, dragging the little goblin onward, slowly but surely- Toward the place where the pure waters roiled back the filthy swamplands.

"All right, all right!" the goblin whined, finally submitting; He'd been hoping to make camp somewhere, but the Eye- And Skizzit, by extension- was insistent. Wearily, the goblin sank to his knees, rolling into the dense, rustling thicket of chitterers; The bush, also known as ku-kid by the goblins, generated a low, almost sublimal chatter, to ward off hopeful grazers...And, coincidentally, was remarkably efficient at drowning out sound...

Nbox eyed the amulet, as, quite suddenly, the pull *stopped*. Nothing. Nothing at all...It was as if it'd dragged him to where he *should* be, and was content to let the goblin rest, at last...

His stomach gurgled, loudly, and the scrawny imp dug into his pouch, screwing his threaded blowpipe together. He hadn't had the chance to grab a meal, when they'd tossed him out- Surely the gods (God, really) wouldn't begrudge him a snack?

For all his many flaws (and there were many) Nbox was a *good* shot with a blowpipe. He'd taken Weapon Focus in it, in fact- And, with noxious glee, had brewed several particularly virulent poisons for it...This one, in fact, distilled from a close cousin of catnip. A single prick, and while most animals were pleasantly, lustfully occupied, he'd close in and nut them...

Little did the goblin know that prey of an entirely more enticing nature was heading his way...