Grungle Saves Christmas [Open]

[Grungle]

Grungle was wandering the streets searching for, well, one of the many things that Grungle would find pleasant to discover while prowling the streets at night. Dogs, bits of metal, discarded belts, food scrapes, homeless people, newspaper or even socks. All of these Grungle found interesting or useful. Whilst searching the cobbled streets of the kingdom, after being shooed by several shopkeepers and meeting a woman who screamed and ran away from something behind Grungle, he found a strange man. The man was small, but not a child-hueman, and dressed in bright colors, green and reds. Grungle walked up to him and greeted him with one of the greetings he often heard at night "By the fates, it's a monster, run." but he didn't yell it like most people did, he thought it was rude.

The small hueman jumped "Eh! Where?" Than looked at Grungle "Gah!". He backed away a bit "who are you?"

"I am Grungle name." Grungle said. "What is you name?"

The man seemed to calm a little when he saw that Grungle possessed the power of speech. "I am Edward. What are-"

Grungle saw a small pigeon out of the corner of his eye and stopped the man mid-sentence "Stop talk small." He drew a stone from his pouch, the size of a golf ball, yet more oval shaped, turned, cocked his arm, thew the stone and scored shot high of it's chest, snapping something and killing it before it could try to kill Grungle. All in two movements, all in a little more than a second. Vial bird. "Talk again thank."

The man looked astounded at Grungle, than narrowed his eyes, perhaps trying to see Grungle better. He looked at the rocks on his belt, and at his powerful arms than back up at Grungle's face. "What is it that you do Gungral?"

"I am a Thrower. I do things like bird thing," he explained, gesturing to the lifeless pigeon "and I do goods on people like saving things. Yesterday I stole a long tailed ferret from giant weed for kid."

"Good." The small man said, nodding and making the tiny bell on his head shake. Grungle, just noticing the brass, jangly bell on the small hueman's head looked at it intensely, longingly. The small man didn't notice, Grungle didn't have visible pupils. "Can you help me Grungle? I lost my friend."

"More mouth." Grungle said, gesturing for him to continue. Grungle wanted to help this man, he had bells, and probably candy.

"I was working with a man at the store, he was dressed as Santa and-"

"Santa?"

"Um, Santa. You know, presents, reindeer and," gesturing to himself "Elves." Grungle was still confused.

"He was a Santa, and Elf you?"

The tiny hueman explained, quite distraught "Yeah, he was dressed as Santa and i was an Elf, but anyway he wandered outside and a pack of moles kidnapped him and the bag of presents. The guards won't go in the Labyrinth to save him, I was just headed to the tavern to get some adventurers to help."

"Grungle is start confuse by words. What is Santa do?"

"Um, he goes out on Christmas and gives everyone presents. He's fat and likes milk and flies on a sleigh." To Grungle, a individual never introduced to Santa, he just described a super-hero and the philanthropist all in one. Santa was great. "And he has a big bushy beard." A beard? Chin hair? Santa was the greatest. "So can you save my friend? Please? He's just a librarian."

"Grungle will save Santa and presents and Santa will give Grungle sky drive in sleigh!" Grungle ran away far to quickly to hear the man explain that the man was not Santa, that Santa wasn't real. If Santa was in trouble there was no time to waste. Grungle burst into the tavern, announcing loudly "Moles have put Santa and his gifts in the adventure hole. We must save him!"


Objective: Save Christmas (by rescuing a man dressed as Santa and presents)
Stratum + Floor(s): Stratum 1 | Floor 2
Run Style: Informal Labyrinth Master
Members Needed: 2-4
Skill Point Limit: None

Ivaak Elias ___
Grungle ___ ___
(please join in character)

[ivaak]

Ivaak was beginning to like this tavern. He often met people who seemed to think they were tough, and would bet shinies that they could beat him in an arm-wrestling match, which was great, since it meant that Ivaak was getting a steady supply of shinies for Cointown. In fact, the person he was arm-wrestling right now was being very generous: he had placed all sorts of shiny scraps in front of Ivaak and told the bird man that he only needed to bet one of his shinies, on the condition that it was one of the monetary shinies. Ivaak felt like his opponent was allowing himself to be ripped off, so Ivaak was going to go easy on him for a little bit to let him feel better about himself.

As Ivaak was letting his opponent think they were an even match, Grungle burst in, shouting his plight. Ivaak, hearing that “moles” had put someone into a “hole,” immediately felt like justice needed to be done. Having no more time for this arm-wrestling game, he slammed his opponent’s hand against the table, ignoring the sudden yelp of pain. The way Ivaak saw it, the secret police had disguised themselves as animals and were trying to silence this “Santa” fellow for carrying contraband presents by placing him in a ditch. Ivaak could not tolerate such evils being perpetrated by the secret police. If Ivaak didn’t protect this place from the secret police, who would?

Ivaak hastily scooped up some of the scrap metal into his pouch, telling his still moaning opponent that he could keep the change…this time. Ivaak then cried: “Ivaak will help the Grungle rescue Santa from secret police!”

(Ivaak will battle the evils of the secret police from the front row.)

[Elias]

Elias sat in the tavern, hands wrapped around what the bartender assured was something alcoholic. He’d begun to believe that the bartender had ripped him off though—or perhaps had took one look at the teen and decided it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to let him drink tonight. After all, what was a teenager doing in a tavern during the holiday seasons? He should be at home enjoying the season with family.

This particular teenager was at the tavern, because one of his older brothers had accidentally set the stove on fire, and the other had in a panic hit the stove with an axe in an attempt to ‘put the fire out’. Predictably, instead of putting out the fire it had only left a big hole in it. Elias had decided to jump ship quickly afterwards before more kitchen appliances could be violently murdered before him.

He’d have to think of something quickly though. They’d be expecting him back soon. Apparently, one should get the lead out when alerting the fire department that one’s dumbass Alchemist brother had set a stove on fire. Elias rolled his eyes; at times like these he sometimes wished he had friends, companions even. Someone he could pretend to go visit with when he didn’t want to deal with his family. Well if he couldn’t have friends to pretend to hang out with, he could go on a quest. You know, because when he heard the story behind the quest his poor, bleeding heart had broken and he just had to help them out, and not come home and help his brothers coax the cat out from its hiding space in between the walls.

Elias decided to accept the next quest that was announced in the tavern.

"Moles have put Santa and his gifts in the adventure hole. We must save him!”

“My poor, bleeding heart had been broken by your story, and I cannot allow this injustice to go unrighted!” Elias stood and smacked his fist on the table.

Wait. What?

Elias glanced back and forth between the bug man and the tengu who had also volunteered to help rescue Santa from the ‘secret police’. Slowly he sank back down in his seat, and grabbed his glass. Maybe if he kept still the two wouldn’t notice him, and they would run off to the ‘adventure hole’ to save ‘Santa’ from the ‘secret police’ and he and his ‘poor, bleeding heart’ could stay here and get ‘drunk’.

(Guys. Guys. What have you done? Seriously guys.)


((Elias and his bleeding heart will stand awkwardly in the front row, and try to make sure that Grungle doesn't touch his hair.))

[Grungle]

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Is Santa Quest.
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