Performer Goblins
Running into goblins is one of life's little annoyances. You can expect pie traps, covered pits with skunks in them, and explosives if you're really unlucky. But the most frustrating and astounding thing about goblins is that beings so mind-blowingly stupid can learn. Goblins have studied the more civilized races over the years, and recently they developed a new guild called performers to better sow confusion.
Performer goblins typically live in small clusters within goblin settlements. Their homes are loaded with pots of bright paint, tacky clothes and bits of shiny metal trash. There will also be musical instruments they can barely play and various noisemakers. Performers don't cause trouble except when they're in the company of other goblin guilds. Indeed, when performers encounter other races without goblin backup they ignore the lucky soul.
What is so noticeable about performer goblins is that they are so noticeable. Goblins know the best way to take a punch is by being somewhere else when it lands. The do their best to avoid detection with camouflage, by traveling through tunnels and by being active at night. When they are detected, goblins run for their lives while trying to slow pursuers with traps.
But performers want you to see them. They wear garishly bright clothes. They make noise, the louder the better. They step out into the open for all to see, practically begging someone to take a shot at them. True, most goblins are stupid and a bit crazy, but there is actually a reason for what they do.
Performer goblins want you watching them instead of the fifty goblins coming up behind you.
The plan typically goes as follows: a mob of goblins decides to cause some trouble, like filling the mayor's house floor to ceiling with monkey dung. If the target is well defended or so public that passing people will try to stop the goblins, they call in a performer. One or more performers volunteer to distract the victims while the other goblins make their attack. The performer splashes paint and attaches bits of shiny metal to a makeshift stage, usually a wagon, vendor's stall or small building. He then draws attention to himself, fleeing when the prank is done.
These distractions come in different themes. Some performers do comedy routines including slapstick and puns to get people to notice them. Others play musical instruments as loud as they can, and on rare occasions they even play them well. Performers may parody important people, dressing up like them and reciting satirical speeches to humiliate their victims.
Another favorite tactic is to pretend to be something more dangerous than they really are. The goblins paint fake eyespots on dark clothes so they look like large, dangerous monsters. Or they dress up like wizards, some even going so far as to carry broken wands cast off by real magicians. This kind of distraction seldom lasts long, but sometimes a quick scare is all that's needed.
These distractions are a careful matter of timing and taste. The performer needs to keep his victims' attention long enough for the other goblins to pull of their prank. If the act is too short the victims will lose interest and notice the other goblins. If their act is too long it runs the risk that dangerous people like soldiers or knights will show up. The act has to be obnoxious enough that people pay attention or they aren't distracting anyone. But if it is too obnoxious the victims will get outraged and attack the performer.
Performers have several ways of dealing with danger. Their bright costumes are made of flimsy material, with darker or camouflaged clothes beneath. If they have to run they can tear off the costume to better hide. Performers also carefully study an area before a prank to identify escape routes. This way they can make a quick escape even with an angry mob on their heels. Lastly, performers can make traps as well as other goblins, and they lay traps on their escape routes to delay pursuers.
Ironically some performers gain acceptance among other races. Many large cities have seedy bars and taverns where this kind of humor and mischief is considered real entertainment. Bar owners sometimes invite performers to put on an act, and they pay the goblins in cheese. Performers accept such offers and use them as opportunities to test new acts.
As a rule performers pose little danger. They travel light to better escape retaliation, and since they work alone or in small groups they couldn't hope to stand and fight even if they had weapons. But there are exceptions. The best known case is when a band of brutal river pirates attacked a small town at harvest time. The situation looked grim when a lone performer goblin dressed as a wizard came to the rescue (technically he'd come to steal some cheese and he didn't want the pirates to take it all first, but while quibble about details?). The pirates saw through the ruse immediately and laughed when he waved his wand. They discovered a moment later that the Wand of Winter's Fury he was carrying wasn't broken, and that the performer was very experienced with it.
Performer goblins typically live in small clusters within goblin settlements. Their homes are loaded with pots of bright paint, tacky clothes and bits of shiny metal trash. There will also be musical instruments they can barely play and various noisemakers. Performers don't cause trouble except when they're in the company of other goblin guilds. Indeed, when performers encounter other races without goblin backup they ignore the lucky soul.
What is so noticeable about performer goblins is that they are so noticeable. Goblins know the best way to take a punch is by being somewhere else when it lands. The do their best to avoid detection with camouflage, by traveling through tunnels and by being active at night. When they are detected, goblins run for their lives while trying to slow pursuers with traps.
But performers want you to see them. They wear garishly bright clothes. They make noise, the louder the better. They step out into the open for all to see, practically begging someone to take a shot at them. True, most goblins are stupid and a bit crazy, but there is actually a reason for what they do.
Performer goblins want you watching them instead of the fifty goblins coming up behind you.
The plan typically goes as follows: a mob of goblins decides to cause some trouble, like filling the mayor's house floor to ceiling with monkey dung. If the target is well defended or so public that passing people will try to stop the goblins, they call in a performer. One or more performers volunteer to distract the victims while the other goblins make their attack. The performer splashes paint and attaches bits of shiny metal to a makeshift stage, usually a wagon, vendor's stall or small building. He then draws attention to himself, fleeing when the prank is done.
These distractions come in different themes. Some performers do comedy routines including slapstick and puns to get people to notice them. Others play musical instruments as loud as they can, and on rare occasions they even play them well. Performers may parody important people, dressing up like them and reciting satirical speeches to humiliate their victims.
Another favorite tactic is to pretend to be something more dangerous than they really are. The goblins paint fake eyespots on dark clothes so they look like large, dangerous monsters. Or they dress up like wizards, some even going so far as to carry broken wands cast off by real magicians. This kind of distraction seldom lasts long, but sometimes a quick scare is all that's needed.
These distractions are a careful matter of timing and taste. The performer needs to keep his victims' attention long enough for the other goblins to pull of their prank. If the act is too short the victims will lose interest and notice the other goblins. If their act is too long it runs the risk that dangerous people like soldiers or knights will show up. The act has to be obnoxious enough that people pay attention or they aren't distracting anyone. But if it is too obnoxious the victims will get outraged and attack the performer.
Performers have several ways of dealing with danger. Their bright costumes are made of flimsy material, with darker or camouflaged clothes beneath. If they have to run they can tear off the costume to better hide. Performers also carefully study an area before a prank to identify escape routes. This way they can make a quick escape even with an angry mob on their heels. Lastly, performers can make traps as well as other goblins, and they lay traps on their escape routes to delay pursuers.
Ironically some performers gain acceptance among other races. Many large cities have seedy bars and taverns where this kind of humor and mischief is considered real entertainment. Bar owners sometimes invite performers to put on an act, and they pay the goblins in cheese. Performers accept such offers and use them as opportunities to test new acts.
As a rule performers pose little danger. They travel light to better escape retaliation, and since they work alone or in small groups they couldn't hope to stand and fight even if they had weapons. But there are exceptions. The best known case is when a band of brutal river pirates attacked a small town at harvest time. The situation looked grim when a lone performer goblin dressed as a wizard came to the rescue (technically he'd come to steal some cheese and he didn't want the pirates to take it all first, but while quibble about details?). The pirates saw through the ruse immediately and laughed when he waved his wand. They discovered a moment later that the Wand of Winter's Fury he was carrying wasn't broken, and that the performer was very experienced with it.
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