Tox Ik Foomes
AC 14, FORT 12, REF 15, WILL 13, HP 24
Bag of Holding
On their journey back from the farm house one of the three goblins that had raided the chicken coup stood apart from amongst his other two brothers. He was a little more greedy, a little more hungry, and a little more… well… a lot more stinky.
Not willing to wait until they returned to the village to eat, he pretended to help the others with the chore of moving the cow. After falling face first several times on to the cow, and almost getting stuck underneath it, the other goblins ran him off. Little did they know each time he fell he snuck in a sip or two of the milk. It was during their return journey the other two goblins discovered something was terribly wrong with this goblin. The milk had started to sour in his stomach and as they got closer to home they heard strange and disturbing churning noises coming from somewhere within this goblin. They were just opening their mouths to say something when suddenly, without warning, a low continuous rumble was heard, followed immediately by a green cloud. The air the two goblins had intended to take into their lungs was replaced with a green foul smelling gas. The two collapsed, reaching out to their brothers for help and wheezing in a raspy weak voice, tox ik fuuuuuumes…
As the wind carried away the stench Tox Ik Foomes walked over to his brothers. Looking over at the two and then at the bag of chickens he thought it best if they all returned to the king together. He scrounged around and found an old gnarled tree branch. Which, a few moments earlier, had been a straight limb on a living healthy tree. He hooked his brothers arms onto it as well as he could, slung the bag of chickens across and began dragging everything back to camp.