GHOST IN THE MACHINE :: ERROR 111

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Re: GHOST IN THE MACHINE :: ERROR 111

Post by Mogwart on Sat Mar 26, 2016 12:27 pm


After knocking on Jeeves like a door, Mogwart had floated there for a second, doing his best to nod in gobliny pleasantness. But alas. He was tense on a number of levels, and nerves made a man perhaps less patient than he meant to be. Fingers twitched and he gave an expressive tsk as he watched the metal pumpkin soar up higher. He didn’t entirely follow the stale words it cranked at him from wherever its mouth was supposed to be were a bit cryptic to his ears, though he thought he got the gist of it. ‘Trying to patch things up between them, ey? His fellows have the oddest names.’

When he turned too look and gauge briefly at how its conversation with its less friendly compatriots was going however, there weren’t any immediate results to be seen. Spiders were still crawling tirelessly towards his coworkers. The electric field was fading around the flower straddling the painfully fallen formerly-masked gent, wizardy Prosperra had landed nearby to draw the attention of spiders in this direction, and the spirited woman who somehow had made her landing beside them as well.
“Frog balls,” Mogwart popped the heel of his hand off his forehead, “What happened to the lot of you?”

Before he even had a chance to crack a frown over whether Samael was going to be able to get his appointed meat-shield back onto his feet, a certain terrifying lovely drew his attention with a request. She had touched on his looks a while ago, and he shrugged it off, taking it as a cruel joke. But hearing it more positively this time turned up the corners of his mouth. He glanced beyond her to the dully red glowing, yellow vomiting bucket. Not that he was sure he could live up to whatever expectation she had of him, but he gave a simply obliging wink, “Hah. When you've asked so politely, milady, how I could I refuse?”

Now that was the only thing he managed to get out before the blasted bucket EXPLODED. It was all Mog could do to try his best to defend himself. Somehow the smaller bits didn't seek him, but the two-foot piece of shrapnel flew so fast and close to him that it sliced his cheek like a razor. He whirled in the air and blinked with bulging eyes as it embedded itself in the clear dome behind him ‘That... That was close. That was very close. TOO close, aye. Let’s not do that again!’

On the plus side, if their task was to get to the other side of the rounded window, he thought he might have found a way in. The question was whether he ought to do it right away. He couldn’t feel the walkway rocking, but he could absolutely hear the ominous creak. Whatever their crew was going to do, he reasoned it would have to be done fairly quickly, and for another very brief moment the coward contemplated abandoning the rest.

Ahem.

First things first anyhow, small favors or not, he had his word to keep to the lady. He climbed slightly higher into the air as his remaining spider-- that had at least been clever enough not to follow until after the worst of the explosion had passed --jumped around and flailed uselessly at him below. He would keep an eye out in case it tried to tangle him in another one of its nets, but for now it was the lesser of his concerns. With large belch and bluster of wind, the jester projected his mace from his throat.

The way the day was going gave him the feeling it would be better to have his weapon handy now rather than to try to sort through the dubious collection in his stomach to find it later.
“For my next trick.” He sailed down the platform to center himself over the bucket. Even though he wasn’t touching any of it, the heat from the flames pressed on him uncomfortably. He wobbled in the air to make the adjustments for his balance and braced himself. ‘Fire-swallowing. Always goes down a tad spicy.’ Without further ado, he opened his jaws wide. Every last one of his fangs flashed and his throat to somewhat expand in unnatural distortions.

The wind gate inside burst forth once more, this time to capture incapacitated objects and drag them within. Aggressive or sufficiently resisting things would be left untouched. The charred waste reciprocal, the weakly puttering spiders trying to fix themselves, any pieces of shrapnel that weren’t stuck or hadn’t already fallen through the cracks in the floor, and many globs of flaming oil— all of it would be wrapped within the shielding wind bubbles, shrunken harmlessly to the size of peas, and sucked back down into the wind gate for safe keeping.

Mog would attempted to draw in as much of the oil and flame on the path as he could as well. After a moment, he closed his mouth to seal in whatever he had managed to swallow with a satisfying hiccup and a lick of lips. If he wasn’t sure the others would still be fighting for their lives, the showman might have taken a bow out of habit. Fortunately though, he wasn’t entirely impractica. ‘No time for that yet. Busy busy busy.’ He scampered back to the shrapnel he saw wedged in the dome and had to redirect the next net his slide shot at him with the bottom of his mace so that it tangled around the shaft momentarily. As Mog shook it off, he made a mental note to club the creature later.

Continuing to avoid it for now, he used his handy-dandy mace again pry at then whack the two-foot piece of shrapnel until it dislodged from the window. He angled the dislodging blow so that the piece wouldn’t fly in any direction that would put the others in jeopardy. The crack the fragment left behind in the whitened part of the window was far to small for any of them to pass through normally, but seeing it gave the goblin hope.

 “Alright, companions. Here’s an offer- take it or leave it,” he croaked on a breath still warmer from his previous trick. He would delay his plans for a moment longer as he looked back to the spiders again and took account of the others' actions. Then, to stall for time to make his pitch, he dropped himself a bit lower to begin swinging the heavy spiky ball-bit of his weapon at the last of his spiders. Golfing motions! It was his intention to smash the thing against the window if he could.  “I am getting inside of that dome. Anyone or anything you want me to take with? Tell me, and don’t put up a fight the next time I swallow. It probably won’t hurt.”

He pointed at the dome with his chin. “And I’ll swiftly release you on the inside of the place. Ah, but whatever your choice- make it quick, will you? I'll go on the count of ten. One… Two…” If they were opposed, the gob wouldn’t be bothered. Currently, there were no other promises or pretty words to keep him here. No fresh debts to repay. As such, he would escape on his own if need be. Let them finish fighting with their spiders or wait on the metal pumpkin to rescue them. Whatever bogged their boots.
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Re: GHOST IN THE MACHINE :: ERROR 111

Post by Skultone on Mon Mar 28, 2016 5:14 pm

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe. The world was going dark as he gasped and grasped desperately to stay awake and then the blond nymph was easing him down and pushing at him and there was pain and then-

Air. Glorious air that chased back the shadows and let him see again. Skultone looked up at the blue eyed man and gave a shaky smile. He could feel the gentle hum of his arm and foot beginning to run again. He continued to lay still, blankly staring up at Samael and flexing his hand to test its responsiveness. The metal was slow to bend to his will, shaking and still heavy. While it answered his commands it was a weak response. But it would be enough to get them through this. There was no way he’d be able to get his cybernetics looked at until they were back on the surface.

Theoretically he could have asked Jeeves if he had a repair function that would work on him, but what he could see now left him unwilling to trust the robot any longer. It was causing the security bots to fix themselves, and if that wasn’t bad enough the garbage disposal was gurgling and it was the way it shook that made Skultone react.

His right arm went around Samael and pulled the blond back down as he raised a wall of fire that incinerated the oil and debris that shot out at the pair of them just as the electric barrier faded away. Skultone’s flames guttered as the walkway shifted and shuddered under them from the impact. It was only after the roiling settled and Mog began to literally devour the scrap and oil that Skultone tried to push himself up, Samael still mostly in his lap.


“Are you alright? We need to get everyone out of here.” He looked to Prosperra and Yume, both elves still beset with spiders as well as the three that were still looking to attack Samael and himself. Struggling back to his feet Skultone ignored for the moment the way his shirt was open for all to see, thick scar tissue showing down the center of his chest as well as along his abdomen. Instead he focused on trying to beat back the last of the spiders. His metal fist rose sluggishly and crashed down onto one of the little ‘bots with more force than he had intended, the flames of his magic making his arm glow dangerously and singing the clothing closest to it.

He batted the other two away to give himself a chance to survey the scene and to see the way Mog had ripped open the barrier around the window. The goblin’s offer was enough to make Skultone shudder, but her jerked his head at the two elves and the nymph. Samael was closest to him so he pushed the nymph carefully, nudging him towards Mogwort.
“Go, I’ll cover the back while he gets you through.” He spied a broken bit of railing and ripped it the rest of the way free to swing like a bat at another skittering robot, a rosy aura coating the metal and making it shimmer with heat. He shifted and tried to herd them away from his companions, knocking arrogant ones back when they scurried too close.

He’d buy them time that they needed. He could only hope that what was beyond the door was less dangerous than what was on this side of it.
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Re: GHOST IN THE MACHINE :: ERROR 111

Post by Samael on Sat Apr 02, 2016 7:12 pm

Everything that was happening was like a dull noise to Him. None of it mattered. All that mattered was this man beneath Him. He looked down into eyes of yellow-green pale and faintly luminous as he relearned how to breathe once again. Lungs which had not been willing to offer that which was necessary for life now filled and gave what they were meant to give. He was offered an uncertain smile which he responded to with a smile of His own which was full and bright; illuminating His one visible blue eye with a glow that was both joy and a slightly darker pleasure.

The other man's hand touched His waist, pulling Him down and close. It was instinct that had His own fingers wrapping around the slender waist beneath Him. For a moment, as flames roared to live protectively around them, it reflected in the golden curls of His hair turning them into rings of molten metal. It reflected in his eye also, so that blue was turned for a brief moment into a ring of that same pure white color. He looked into the face of the man who had pulled Him to safety. Then they were being pushed upwards again by the other man's strength, the flames flickering away into nothingness.

“Are you alright? We need to get everyone out of here.”

All He could do was look at this other man and nod gently. "Of course." Nothing had come through the fire to harm Him, but He did not know how to get these people to some other place. This entire situation was beyond Him. The other man wanted up, so He found His own feet to allow it. So that they could stand together. His fingers did not fall away from the other man's body, but rather stayed, remaining as close to the other man as was physically possible.

He moved with the other man as he swept back the robots, keeping them at bay. It was not fear in Him, but uncertainty. He was close enough to feel the other man's shudder, to wonder at it. He was pushed toward the one who had once captured Him, whom had offered to somehow take them beyond this place.

Without hesitation He did as He was bid, moving toward the goblin with quickened steps until He was there, His blue eyes trusting and just slightly wide. He bowed His head to the goblin, curls rising and falling in a flicker of gold. His blue eyes met gold, and He nodded low.
"I am ready Sire." There was faith in His expression. He would go as He was told to go, and do as He was told to do.
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Re: GHOST IN THE MACHINE :: ERROR 111

Post by Yume on Tue Apr 12, 2016 2:42 am

“Hah. When you've asked so politely, milady, how I could I refuse?”

She had a good remark for that, really good and she was just a little disappointed she wasn't able to get it out.

The sound came just before the pain. It was enough of a warning to have Yume react but not enough to escape unscathed. Having used her teleport ability only moments before she was unable to use it again. Her magical abilities had never been anything to gloat about and she just didn't have the power to teleport in such quick succession. Instead she needed to try and use her natural agility and reflexes. It was enough to get her to leap forward away from the expanding heat and oil to get her just the slightest bit further from the danger. Escaping some of the larger and hotter bits of oil and flame.

She could not however escape the blast radius or smaller bits of fire and shrapnel. The force of the released energy sent Yume falling forward after her initial attempt to distance herself from the danger. Her legs where knocked out from under her as her body tumbled forward to land HARD.
As her left hand was occupied, still with weapon in hand, and she was not in the habit of releasing it she made no attempt to cushion or better control her fall with the aid of an appendage. Instead she turned her body only slightly, to land chest and shoulder first onto the steel floor.

The momentum created by her own movements coupled with the force of the explosion sent her none to gracefully skidding across the cold metal and sla directly against the floor edge of the window with a very loud thud.
A stream of profane and colorful curses soon followed.

"-MY TITS!"
She didn't have much time to sit and sulk about the pain of the fall. There was a burning, a  heat seeping through to her skin-she knew she was on fire. The profanities did not cease. Relesing her sword to rest where she had fallen, she quickly rolled to get to a standing position and during the process, unfastened her cape. The garment had taken the blunt of the dispersing flames. She quickly and violently discarded it to the floor and was spared from anymore seared flesh.
Only in some places around her right shoulder had the flames burned down to her coat. Leaving a couple of large scorched holes beneath which lay nothing. Just below the shoulder no more than 8" down her coat sleeve simply stopped, it was rolled and pinned in such a way to keep the long piece of fabric from getting caught on anything but if it had not already been observed it was obvious now that she simply did not have a arm.

Yume stood panting and in an obvious rage of all that had transpired in such a short amount of time.

"JUST MY FU**ING LUCK! I SWEAR TO JESUS! I-"
She observed the others as she picked up and resheathed her weapon with more force then necessary.
"THAT WAS BRAND NEW!"
Some of the bots where still pulling themselves back together and Yume was not going to argue with Skulltones offer to keep the spiders at bay. She wasn't even sure if he was speaking to everyone or just the nymph he was just a moment ago really up close and personal with but she figured it didn't matter. It was an opportunity and really the best one at the moment so she was going to take it.
"My feet hurt, my body hurts, I may have broken a rib in that fall and I smell like BBQ. I am so ready for the next level so Lets go my lovely green skinned knight. Help us girls outta' here."
She approached Mogwart and stood besides Samael in wait for the goblins plan.
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Re: GHOST IN THE MACHINE :: ERROR 111

Post by Jeeves on Sun Apr 17, 2016 3:27 am

Mogwart's spell was strong enough to pull up many of the damaged spiderbots close by him, and strong enough that those which weren't damaged had to cling to the metal grating beneath them to keep from being pulled in. The fire flickered and died out, robbed of the air that it needed to survive, and the remains of the trash can were devoured by the goblin. Even much of the oil was drawn up, but there were places where the it lingered on the surfaces that it had touched.

With the portion of metal removed from the window there was a smooth cut left in its wake. There was no sound coming from inside the room, or none that could be heard over the clicking of the robot's legs against the metal grating and the sound of the group as they spoke to one another.

Almost casually Skultone destroyed yet another of the small robots, his hand crushing it ruthlessly even as he pushed two others back far enough for Samael to move closer to the goblin. It was hard to actually hit the spider shaped robots with his makeshift bat, but much easier to herd them away from the group and keep them somewhat at bay. Which was not to say that they were giving up their efforts.

One of the robots deftly evaded Skultone's swing, and another dashed toward the cyborg, trying to clammor up his body before he could manage to attack it with his length of metal. The third spat a net at Skultone, and the fourth neatly dodged around him while he was distracted with the first three.

The fourth bot fired its net at Mogwart, trying to bring the goblin down while he was distracted. Samael was between the spiderbot and Mogwart, but the nymphs back was to the machine. Without warning the spider-like bot launched itself at Samael, meaning to climb up him and use his body as a launching point to attack Mogwart more directly.

Meanwhile with the group dealt with their crisis the small round robot known as Jeeves floated calmly back to the keypad where it had been before.

re-initializing unlocking procedure

Combat Information:
Extermination Unit: Machine
[ created with the function of removing living organisms which do not belong on-base ]
- 4 Units currently active in close proximity
- 1 Unit in freefall
- Units are armed with sharpened extremities
- Units are armed with net
Further information is CLASSIFIED


Shorter main post <3 (fewer badies to deal with ;3)

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Re: GHOST IN THE MACHINE :: ERROR 111

Post by Mogwart on Tue Jun 21, 2016 1:34 am

Swarmed by tiny metal death spiders and caught in an explosion.

Well!

The lot of them were surviving about as well as could be expected. At least as far as Mog could tell. But great salamanders, his companions were having a miserable time of it. Green nostrils twitched at the scent of burned fabric, and the cave's chilling echoes of their struggle pinned had him pinning his ears back a few more notches. The sight of the fighters among them going down for a moment did nothing for the jester's own confidence. A nervous twinge crept hire up his spine, and-- right right. He had seen enough. ‘Fah! Bother to this. I’m getting out of here.’

Though he had offered to take a few passengers, and the guilt-ridden nightmares he'd have if he let one person's kindness die un-repaid? Not worth it. Yet. Darn it all. And so, he impatiently watched the others’, too distracted to notice his own comparatively minor aches. Such fine marks they were! Together, they beautified the goblin like a moldy-holey piece of cheese. A bleeding assortment of shallow pricks and slices crossed his arms, back, mouth, ears, tail, and cheek. Though his rags were stained, it only looked worse than it really was. If he was especially fortunate, the scars would last long enough for him to show off to the lasses later. Perhaps.

In any case, just then, Mog's eyes met with unexpected bit of treasure and narrowed into a smile. Yes. Like a glimmer more than gold in the chaos, Samael approached to seek his former tormentor's aid. Though the fiend didn't stop his countdown to reply, his tail swished slowly in certain pleasure. It occurred to him for half an instance that, depending on how things panned out today, he may have an opportunity to abduct the fair fellow again, for gentle company that didn't want to gut him for standing too close if nothing else. Though he had yet to borrow enough shiny objects to afford it. Alas. ‘One thing at a time now. One thing at a time.’

No doubt a bit of the flower’s infamous finger sorcery was to blame for his former masked bodyguard’s recovery as well. Er. A partial recovery anyhow. It was enough to get the unlucky fellow back on his feet anyway. Not that Skultone looked much better for. While he valiantly fought on to buy the rest of them time, Mogwart grit his fangs in hesitance. The numbers still didn't stop, but they slowed for a decimal.
"6... 7... 7 and a quarter... 7 and a half..." Even if he told himself he fully intend to abandon this bunch to their fates if they wanted their heroic deaths, it didn't sit well with him to let a fellow willing to cover his back die in a hole deep in the ground either.

Then. Ah. Then there was the terrifying toothy woman—made more ravishing in her own right by that missing arm by the way. Having managed to find herself slightly less on fire, she somehow mingled mentions of BBQ and foul language into the same glorious utterance while calling him a blamed knight of all things. The most ridiculous title ever directed at him.
 “Eight… Nine…HAH.” He gave an involuntary, very amused sort of snort, meaning oops. So much for the count of ten. As much as that convinced him that the the woman's eccentric humor was worth saving too, the distraction meant he would have to start all over again.

Or the goblin might have, if not for the metal creatures' continued advance. For a moment, all of his attention was suddenly snatched by the movement of one spider skittering towards Samael from behind. If not for that, the other’s spider’s net would have been perfectly timed. Perfectly. As it was though, this pain averse scoundrel was a victim of his own chivalrous habits. Delicate ones in danger was not something he had power enough over himself to ignore. (Cue the overly dramatic music.)

The net hit the dome with a whisper as down dove Mogwart with sudden urgency. He tumbled towards Samuel and passed just overhead as if to rustle the radiant strands of sunlight. Then, releasing himself from the minor spell of his winds, the gob dropped just behind the other man, planting himself like the worlds shortest barricade between the helpless one and that which threatened.

(Drama drama.) Warped wood clacked dully against smooth metal as he raised his mace horizontally, moving to bar the beast from advancing. Foolish perhaps, considering he was the things original target anyhow, and his arm length? Not quite enough to spare him entirely from those long horribly pointy little legs. They continued to flail and bite at him over and under his clumsy barrier. On the bright side, hey. He kept it from latching onto him and carving deep into his flesh.

Goblin curses were hissed and feet shuffled. Briefly he thought he might spare a minute to keep fighting the cursed things after all. But then, his body reminded him he had other problems. The battle hadn’t been too long, and he was far from wearing himself out with his magic. Contrary to what he wanted anyone to believe however, swallowing so many materials one go however had its own risks. Far worse than a potentially upset stomach or a dry throat, he thought.

Already an uncomfortable whirl of volatile energy had awakened at his core. The feeling slithered through his veins in a familiar warning. Nothing stopping him from continuing to use his powers per se, but with the balance within him already agitated, he didn’t know how many more grand stunts he could pull before he broke that which should not be broken. ‘More. Give me but a few minutes more,’ he bargained with his winds as if that alone would placate them.

He only needed to take his company with him to the other side.
“Forget the count. Milord and lady...” He glanced past his foe at Skultone too, but shook his head in preparation for the grim. In the midst of the crazy spider talons, the gob stuck out a scrawny leg of his own. He stomped forward at the enemy, less to damage it than to primarily knock it down and try to keep it pinned to the floor for a moment, beneath his Small foot. The mace flipped to point it’s metal downward, was raised over the spider like a thorny sun, then came down swiftly- Mog’s last attempt to deal some damage before settling on the more difficult trick before him. (This while trying to avoiding his toes.)

“We depart NOW.” Once again, wind would erupt from the goblin’s yawning jaws as he sought only to swallow any of his willing allies this time. Before long at all, he closed the wind gate. Stopped his spell. With the clicking beasts still in pursuit, he wasted no time in chasing his next vital breath. A small wheeze. Cheeks inflated. Then poof. Just like that, the goblin became the wind itself.

His seal screamed bloody murder, nearly visible as a miniature swirling storm as he swept up the side of the dome as a gust, passed through that tiny hole created by the large shard of shrapnel, and immediately broke from his spell on the other side. Tada!

Albeit, there was no time to inspect this new space. None at all. The instance his rear hit the floor, he opened up and projectile vomited a small gale of air pockets containing any of his companions that successfully traveled with him– as well as a few small globs of the yellow liquid and odd looking ‘borrowed’ knick-knacks from his travels.

After that, the jester brought his knees up and curled himself around his upright mace, squeezing into the tightest ball he could. Sharp pain hovered on the edge of his mind and the roaring. The roaring in the pit of his being crowded into his ears in ways that no one else could hear as it always did when he was on the edge. But, blissfully, the seal wasn’t broken yet. If he could just hold still for a while, focus hard, and take back control of the currents? Maybe the curse would spare him this time.
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Re: GHOST IN THE MACHINE :: ERROR 111

Post by Skultone on Thu Jun 23, 2016 6:50 pm

Watching the three people leave through possible salvation was too much for Skultone, so as soon as he could see that they had slipped through the crack in the glass he resolutely turned back to the matter at hand. “Jeeves!” His rasping voice was muted by the clicking of metal claws and the shuddering of the bridge he was at the edge of. “Shut down the security sentries! Stop repairs!” He swung his metal bat and missed, feeling the weight of the spider-bot crawling up his leg.

He tried to lash out with his metal hand and felt it respond too slowly. So slowly that the net fired from a second spider caught and trapped it. The tangling net was a distraction more than anything and with a grunt Skultone made his metal arm ignite once again in an attempt to burn it away. The flames that shot up surprised even him, and he used the fires to his advantage by grabbing at the spider on his person. The heat made his skin feel like crackling paper but it was worth it to have his fingers beginning to break through the exoskeleton of the ‘bot and hopefully destroy the vital bits of technology inside of it.


“Are you still with me, elf?” He wrenched his fist up and slammed it into the support beams on the bridge, attempting to crush the ‘bot in his hand before taking a swing at one of the other ones that was trying to rip through his flimsy clothing. He’d seen that Prosperra hadn’t taken up the goblin’s offer and was left as stranded as he was. When the remaining spider recovered from Mog’s attack and made for Prosperra as a new target Skultone had to curse and cast more of his magic.

The flames that erupted from around the soldier were searingly hot, spreading from his feet and enveloping each spider that it could reach with ferocity.
“Jeeves, answer me!” Skultone sent a spider flying once again, shifting once the flames ended so that he could help protect the elf that remained. There was far too much happening to worry about what was happening on the other side of the door, so he didn’t. Though a sliver of him sent a prayer that they would be okay.
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Re: GHOST IN THE MACHINE :: ERROR 111

Post by Samael on Mon Jun 27, 2016 6:29 pm

Though there was no spoken response to His words, it was clear that they were heard. The swishing of one long tail with languid pleasure was an undeniable indication. For now the whole of His attention was upon this one, the one who had once stolen Him away from all that He knew and who was here again when the world was turned from what made sense to chaos. Though His demeanor outwardly remained as it was and as it should be He could make no sense of it. These machines were only things. They had no desire it seemed beyond causing destruction, and that they took no pleasure in being only metal. Everything seemed to be happening quickly and yet slowly at the same time.

Behind Him, He could hear the sound of metal against metal. The sound of fighting and breath which came easier now because He had made it so. His one-time captor counted slowly and more slowly still, then reached nine and stopped all together. For a moment what happened was too quick for Him to make sense of, then suddenly the goblin was behind Him, dealing with yet another of the mechanical menaces keeping it barely at bay.
"Sire!"

His voice rang out in surprise and concern, the thing had been headed for Him surely, but the goblin had inter-spaced his own much smaller form between it and Himself. Now it tried to clamor over the barrier that the goblin made with the mace held in one green-toned hand, but with little luck. The goblin made to dispatch the metal creature but He did not see how the thing fared, His one visible blue eye locked onto the golden orbs of the goblin.

Then He was pulled into the goblin. It was magic, pulled into a vortex of wind and darkness beyond. There were not proper words for the experience, but it did not last long and after a while He was returned to His natural state. That was not however His first concern. Instead it was the goblin whom was curled upon his own body tightly. He went to the goblin, long pale fingers soothing over mussed hair and one green cheek.
"My liege. What is wrong? Are you unwell?"

It seemed as though the goblin were sick, and the very thought made His stomach tight. He searched for some sign of injury of which there was none, concern radiating from Him like a gentle light.
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