Norman Osborn 247 Share Posted April 11, 2017 (All Blah from the goblin will be translated into common for simplicity for those who cannot understand it) 0900 HOURS As day breaks the darkness through the stained glass of the church, the sounds of freshly polished dress shoes tapping against wood being heard as a Goblin in rather fancy attire with a sharp grimace on his face enters the holy building. His eyes scan from the beautiful works of stained glass to a polished wood confession booth. The Gobbo checks his aurum pocket watch; 9:00 AM, just as planned. He shuffles behind the curtains and says “It is 9:00.” A croaky old voice resonates from the other side of the confession booth, and an even older looking man. “Ah, good.” The Goblin says calmly “I do not want to be here any longer than I have to. Give me the details and I shall be on my way.” “Ah, of course. Well… when Courland invaded Orenia, I lost everything. My family, friends, savings.” “Reasons are irrelevant.” “Right, right. What I wish for you to do is… essentially sabotage the wedding that is coming up. Any method you can. Poison, destroy, murder, bomb. I don’t care. Just don’t connect me to this atrocity.” he’d say nervously, fiddling with his fingers hysterically from the other side of the booth. “The wedding will be highly protected, and the amount of investigation that will go into the bombing… it raises my price significantly.” “Already factored in. I trust in your rather impressive skillset, here is the pay.” The old man would slip a suitcase filled to the brink of bursting with mina, the Goblin taking it greedily as he gleans his eyes over the golden coins, shutting the suitcase. With a small smirk on his face, he’d mutter “Consider it done.” The goblin strides out of the booth with his heavy suitcase bursting with mina. He would hitch a cart out of the city and to the Goblin nation of Golin’Dar to prepare this sabotage. 2 DAYS LATER 1300 HOURS The Goblin had just arrived to Golin’Dar. He had to be quick in retrieving his stashed items, it was nearly night and many horrors dwell in the ancient darkness. He found Boomb huddled around the campfire with the other Goblins. They beckoned for him to join them, only to be refused. He strode into the forest, knowing this specific pathway to the stashed items by heart as he had traversed to his hiding place many times. After a good 30 minutes of walking, he had found it. The scene was a small dot of flat brown dirt in the barren wasteland of the Dreadlands. Picking up the shovel, he dug it into the barren earth, repeating the process until there was a giant pile of dirt to the side and the top of a chest revealed. With all his might, the Goblin heaved it from the earth. Inside lay a giant pile of gold, a gigantic arbalest with a scope attached to it. A sleek chrome garrote of fiber wire, a brown leather suitcase of dynamite, and so much more equipment suited to the job of a paid killer. He wrapped the garrote, tucking it into the pocket of his waist coat. He took the suitcase of dynamite, and some minas for transportation and food. One day this Goblin will think of this bombing as just another job. After all, This is what he does. And tomorrow, Operation Red Wedding shall commence. ONE DAY LATER 1100 HOURS A small, rickety green cart would roll near the city, men in tuxedos and women in long flowing dresses swarming out of them as a Goblin strides out with his suitcase, clenching it tightly as the cries of happiness and pleasure resonate from the Aleksandria church. No one was getting frisked, it appeared to be safe to enter with the bomb. There was no doubt the Goblin was nervous, as no matter how professional, trained, and skilled one is, there is no amount of preparation that can prepare someone for taking a life. Yet he was a soldier, and soldiers follow orders. If he did not complete the contract, he would be seen as a stomachless assassin. To do that would be to tarnish his reputation as a Hit Goblin. Therefore, in his mind, he had no choice but to perform this bombing. As he approached the front of the church, he felt a tight feeling in his stomach; how was he going to smuggle the bomb into the room of nobles without getting detected? Then it hit him: the doors outside the church that lead to the graveyard are not guarded. He quickly shoves past the crowd, they seemed to be preoccupied with a fight outside on the front entrance. The HitGobo quickly ledges up the bottom roof, shuffling near the wall as he listens in on the noble talk. He was sure his suitcase would fit through the crevice of the church wall. He had to act quickly, soon enough the fight would be resolved and his opportunity would have been lost. There was no going back. The Goblin quickly flicks a switch on his suitcase, sizzling being remotely heard from the insides of it as he quickly heaves it into the church through the crevice of the church wall. His heart pumping like never before ever since the Courland-Oren war, he ledges down the low roof, nervously yet calmly at the same time striding away from the church. Soon enough, a horrible yet awesome explosion rips across the upper levels of the church. People were shocked, then horrified. They screamed, wept, young hysterically clung to their mother's’ breast. Dwarven convoys lept out the shattered stained glass windows. No one even suspected or even remotely thought about the tall, bald Goblin stranger with the grimace plastered on his face that strut about with his brown leather suitcase. He slipped in and out cleanly, silently, and impersonally. It symbolized the very essence of his planning, improvisation, and execution in his line of work. Flawless and Perfect. TWO DAYS LATER 1200 HOURS As noon hits the day, Jitz finds himself relieved. He knows he did the job properly, perfect like himself in his line of work. He found himself muttering prayers to Spirits in the skeleton of an ancient creature. Veist, the spirit of thievery and illusions. Shezek, the spirit of stealth and plots. Rolfizh, the spirit of Clandestine and Murder. These are the spirits he prayed to constantly for perfection and guidance. As he finishes, he exits the skeleton, looking to the sharp blue sky. A fire was cooking a boar nearby. He cut off a large piece of meat, from it’s thigh, feasting on it as he sips on some Vodka. He was sketching designs for a new Sniper Crossbow. One with a scope of even more magnification and adjustability, and can be cranked back more easily with the help of gears. He wished he had money. He constantly donates his blood money to Golin’Dar as he believes in it, though a new peg of gunpowder or redstone wouldn’t hurt. Something soft and mushy impacts his head as he’s sketching. Jitz quickly scoops up the material; dove feces. Afterwards, a dove swoops down and drops a letter at his feet. Jitz would scoop it up, reading it. “I’m looking for a HitGobo.” Excited, Jitz scoops up another scrap of parchment. Writing in smeared ink hurriedly, he returns the letter. “I’m Listening.” Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
senor_tortuga 692 Share Posted April 11, 2017 Tajo would wonder at the amazing craftsmanship that went into a suitcase bomb Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vege 4804 Share Posted April 11, 2017 clive the jester puts on his sunglasses all in a days work he says walking away from the burning building Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jentos 9422 Share Posted April 12, 2017 ((Wow, I had heard the church exploded, and people were going all crazy, Im happy for you man! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mabah 156 Share Posted April 12, 2017 2 hours ago, _SuitAndTie_ said: Veist, the spirit of thievery and illusions. Shezek, the spirit of stealth and plots. Rolfizh, the spirit of Clandestine and Murder Shazul loves that the goblin worships taboo spirits that are hardly known about. She gives a quick shake of her head in sympathy. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
L0rdLawyer 2272 Share Posted April 12, 2017 Hu-din mutters something under his breath shaking his head. "One week left." Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mj. 697 Share Posted April 12, 2017 Wem prepares a bird. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Golin'Dar 151 Share Posted April 12, 2017 [!] Goblin State of Golin'Dar takes responsibility for this act of terrorism. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vrarrdata 205 Share Posted April 12, 2017 The Crown Prince of Sultanate of Haria nods his head in fascination as he hears the news. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dreek 1633 Share Posted June 17, 2017 Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly. If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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