KingKoo

Ick blinks at the poster, carefully pinning his own notice over it: FreE CAndY aT kAxiLz BRinG lAtz FaMilY

Ick grunts, wandering back into the Kaxil fort "Mi nub liztunin' tu ah Azug, ah dizunurble Azug ad dat. Skah diz. Nub bi da Uruk wahy."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBefecNTQok Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick went the grinding gears of the machine, the invention. It had never truly occurred before to the goblin how powerful the mind can be over the muscle. He was not a strong Uruk, but he was smart, many had fallen before him without him laying a finger on them. It was only after all this time that the goblin gained a true appreciation for thin lines of glowing red dust, and he had made it his sole purpose to unlock its potential. Cogs and springs fit perfectly into place, aligning in such a way that every tiny component would slot together with the most satisfying of clicks. The machine was very subtle, silent until its master commanded it to operate, for it could not serve its purpose if it alarmed those that were lead astray to it of it's presence. If he was honest with himself, the machine was of simple design, a large collapsing trapdoor and a simple set of releasing pins that would allow a wall to slide forwards on several wooden arms driven by powerful springs, the trigger being a tiny button embedded into a wall, with each press causing a pin to fire out of its slot and inch the a the rear wall exactly one meter closer to the subject inside, the broad stone walls grinding deafeningly against each other. Five presses of the tiny circular button was all it took before the wall reached the edge of the pit and would go no further, five presses and silence would befall the chamber and the mechanism would have to be rewound and slotted back into its holding. The machine, The Riddle Machine, was death. Upon falling into the devious trap your fate would be sealed to the tiny Goblin operator standing behind the reinforced glass, but first would come the entertainment, the embarrassment. The Goblin would deliver riddles, hence the machine's name, and for each failed riddle, the machine would grind them closer to the edge of the pit and then gravity would do the rest. The chances of escaping the dreaded machine were infinitely small, it was designed that way, and even answering the riddles correctly would just result in a different answer. The riddle machine didn't discriminate, people of all races, shapes and sizes had experienced the gradual terror of the emotionless, mechanical beast that was the Riddle Machine, including fellow orcs and goblins too. Being weak amongst humans, dwarves or elves was tolerable. Being weak amongst Uruk-kind was not. The Goblin had received no end of torment throughout his life, but when he was with his machine, he was the one in control. He had developed a blood lust like no other, one of subtlety rather than brutality. His thirst for power over others had consumed the Goblin inventor's mind, and unfortunately fellow orcs and goblins that tested his patience had met their untimely end by the machine that they had so thoroughly enjoyed watching work. Some may call it dishonour, but the Goblin called it justice. Of course the Riddle Machine was just the start, he had so many wonderful ideas and had even managed to execute some of them with the help of the Kaxils, who were able to see the true strength which lay beneath his skull and aid him in his efforts. Yet no matter how many died, more and more gruesome ideas would swarm across his brain like maggots, constantly replenishing this hunger to witness the beauty of the killing machine. 61 recorded deaths on the Riddle Machine alone. And Ick, the demon inventor, was just getting started. [[The Riddle Machine has never actually had its own post, so here it is. Props to all of its victims, hope you had fun. Expect more mechanical madness in the future.]]

Ick rubs a metal tool through his hair, peering over the Kaxil walls and into the Azog lands. With a grunt he drops down from his perch, approaching a large cart filled with various redstone components, cogs and springs. "Tyme tu ged tu wurk, mefinkz."

Ick tuts, folding his arms and staring hard at his bidding opponent.

Posts his own little notice next to the original: ((Translated)) I have made a riddle machine. If you come to Gronkkston and test out a few riddles for me, I'll pay you 400 minas. If you have armour, bring it... There are undead creatures everywhere at the moment. Look for the goblin named 'Ick'.

The goblin grins and leaves his name: Ick ((KingKoo))

The goblin returns once again "Mi chaynge bid. Mi gib latz 10,000 minaz fur all ob dem."

"1200 minaz!"

"750 minaz!" a goblin calls out

Stopping at Malinor, Ick shouts out "6000 minaz fer 'alf ob dem!"

"Ick peep dat Urukz flat pinkies, den Ick peep diz poztur, and Ick peep dat Pinkiez flat Urukz... Urukz nub bi da munsturz... Evureewun flatz evureewun. Wi juzt bi da bezt ad id."