/The adventuring band from Sandpoint is unpacking their hastily gathered gear in the upper floors of Aldern Foxglove’s Magnimar townhouse. Care is being taken to be silent, though Bugga is only just awake. No breakfast, a cold morning walk, and now her companions are preparing to bed down at a very early hour… The goblin summoner is being noisier than usual./
/Aneira is spreading out her sleeping gear once again, though seems to have more than the task on her mind. Bugga watches her intently, sitting nearby on an ottoman./
… So… uh, what was I saying? Right, Bugga… Stay out of trouble today. Things got…. well, things are difficult now. The situation is more complicated than you think-
That not nice! You not know what Bugga thinkin’! Also, you s’posed to tell Bugga about where you went! That not nice at all, to leave Bugga out just because Bugga went sleepies! Bugga likes having fun too, you know!
It wasn’t fun, Bugga. Believe me…
/The warpriest stops trying to distractedly fold her sash and wearily pinches the bridge of her nose, attempting to suppress the increasingly-intense headache she’d been fighting off for the last hour or so. An exhausted roll of her shoulders leads her to look up, and she spots her bloodied armor on a chair in the corner before her. The changeling’s expression becomes more serious, and she returns to her task./
… It’s going to be difficult to rest, even. You are lucky you were already asleep.
/Bugga seems to disagree with this assessment, starting up on her complaints again, and Aneira’s annoyance builds in spite of efforts to ignore the goblin. It peaks when Bugga starts to try to sing a new song she made up about ‘how bloody Warleader Pinchy’s claws can be’, and the warpriest drives the troublemaker from her presence with a snarl and a thrown pillow./
/A light knock at the door heralds Ge’vern’s presence even as Bugga runs out, and in spite of his own fatigue the elf is nimble enough to step over the short goblin (and avoid the projectile). He continues into the room to share a few words with Aneira before pursuing the summoner, who has picked up the pillow and now glares at the door. He kneels and gently puts a hand on her shoulder to look into her eyes, while she squirms and looks at the floor./
I’ve been told you’re disappointed in today’s turn. I am sorry, I know how much you like breakfast.
… Not fair. Not fair!
/Pitticus rounds the corner and heads for the washroom on the opposite wall, but when he spots the goblin he seems to be reminded of something. Turning fully, the professor takes on a rather mocking tone, taking advantage of Bugga’s obvious unhappiness./
You missed out on the first field test of the stink bomb, goblin. You wouldn’t believe the stench; even worse than we’d believed… what a shame, after all of your interest! And tell me they weren’t the most ideal circumstances ever: a room filled with uh, humies, all standing around in a little knot and unaware of our presence. It’s like a dream come true for you! But then, you were having your little nap…
/Pitticus chuckles to himself as the goblin throws the pillow at him, dodging it and allowing it to strike the doorjamb behind his head. He is still laughing as he closes the bathroom door, and the summoner turns back to Ge’vern, thoroughly miserable now. The elf looks sympathetic./
I’m sorry, this just kind of twists the knife… but you’ll need to stay inside today. Inside, and quiet. It’s very important that nobody know where you, or Jane, or anything that reminds them of us is. I should think that if you are caught, bad things will be done to you… and then, to us. Please, again, don’t go doing anything foolish.
Y-yeah, Bugga know. This too much talkin’!
/Aneira is getting into her bedroll, obviously exhausted. Outside in the main room, Davros is rolling himself into his cloak on the couch, while Pitticus eventually emerges from the washroom and partakes of a soft (and dusty) chair. Ge’vern is already in another chair, his dull black rapier drawn from its loop and balanced across his knees, his breathing slow and even./
/Eventually, no sounds but deep breathing come from the upper floor, the sleeping adventurers finally granted the rest needed after their hectic evening. In the kitchen below, the goblin tries building her new song further, humming atonally and growing less interested in quiet as the minutes pass./
/It is only 6:30 in the morning, and snacking on an unsatisfying breakfast made up of her own rations has left the goblin peevish; she found nothing of value in her search through the pantry and never really cared for the tasteless, usually unpickled food of humans. The shadows grow long in the kitchen and a rasp fills the air, like wind slicing through tattered paper./
We think that today presents a unique opportunity for some teaching. This city groans with ancient secrets, and the pace of your friends has finally slowed to the point of an unsupervised exploration. We wonder about the state of the bridge… We wonder about showing you some things while they rest?
/The fat goblin makes a tipping motion with her hand, putting the rest of her cheese in her mouth with the other./
Bugga not in the mood. Warleader Pinchy say ‘no Bugga, Warleader Pinchy need sleepies! Warleader Pinchy not want take Bugga out to play last night or for breakfast today because Warleader Pinchy need sleepies! Warleader Pinchy have all the fun and Bugga dumb!’ Bugga not want do anythin’ but eat breakfast.
… Stupid breakfast. Not hot. No eggs! Stupid breakfast!!
Well, let us leave and take some food from humans outside. It is so very easy to find a stupid human stumbling along sleepily at this hour with something tasty in their mouth. They are always so vulnerable when they believe themselves protected by their cities. Come, let us leave.
Bugga not allowed to leave this smelly house. Baddies outside. Bad humies. Bugga gonna get snatched if Bugga plays outside. Also, it cold outside. Not allowed. Warleader Pinchy say so.
/Mister Sniffles disperses and coalesces further back in the kitchen, by the door out to the back garden. A coughing laugh fills the air, sounding like the air stirring the ashes under a chimney./
Oh, what a shame. Seems your humies have everything figured out, then. Seems that your humies have decided how you should behave. Funny humies, to have tamed a goblin. They can sleep without worrying about her. Such nice humies! So smart!
… Bugga not tamed.
If you say so. We are going outside to enjoy the breeze.
/The shadow at the door reaches and fidgets at the handle, which twists. A gust of wind quickly seizes the door, and it springs open, making a loud slam against the wall of the house. Bugga grimaces, and looks upstairs. Nobody stirs, and she looks back to the door. Mister Sniffles cannot be seen, but its whisper is carried on the wind, right to the summoner./
The best thing about this time of the year… The sun is so weak.
Now… let us go have some fun.