NationStates Jolt Archive

The rain pelted the small tour boat mercilessly as the passengers huddled under an awning. The captain, a well-muscled human man, struggled with the helm for control of the boat. The boat fondered off the island of Pele, an island believed to be inhabited only by the recent colony planted by a small sect preaching ultra-traditional ways. The island's lush, tropical foilage came down to the edge of the sandy beach. The boat shuddered, crashing on a rock as the hull ruptured. The captain was pitched forward, his brains dashed out on the rocks, as most of the machinery shattered. The passengers were jarred, flung violently from their seats.

Charles Demetrios, a middle-aged Pantocratorian businessman, hit the deck hard. He took a moment to gather his wits about him, and then he was off. Without a thought for the other passengers, or the unfortunate skipper, he grabbed a flotation ring, got up onto the side of the boat, and jumped into the water. In his youth he had been quite a strong swimmer, and although those days (like his full head of hair) were long behind him, he was still able to swim to the shore.

He crawled up the white sands of the beach towards the cover of the tropical foliage, discarding the ring, reached his destination, and promptly collapsed. He undid the first two buttons of his absurd Hawaiian shirt to help him breathe better, and finally, looked out to the water to see how the others in his tour group were doing.

Graglor the Skull Crusher, the sole Stamfordian aboard the ship, backflipped off of said ship and landed on the beach. He looked around. There weren't many skulls to crush. He looked up to the faggot in the Hawaiian shirt. He probably had a skull in that fat head of his...

((OOC: New Stamford, it's not an open thread. Please delete your post.))

The three Goblins were huddled under the awning, cursing the weather. However this particular approach failed rather miserably after the small problem of the boat crashing on some rocks, sending the Goblins sprawling in mid-insult.

After finally regaining their feet the Goblins grabbed their bags and leapt, swimming frantically with their concern for their own lives considered over everything but the bottles of Goblin drink in their bags.

Eventually, after much swimming around in circles, squares, triangles and other shapes they manage to reach the beach, staggering up and dumping their gear in a pile.

One of them pauses to watch the sinking tourboat, while another reaches into the baggage and produces three bottles, giving one to each of the other Goblins.

"'E hoo drinkz Gobbo, finkz Gobbo"

The other two nod in agreement, and do a typical advertisement-pose with their drinks, before drinking properly, their close run-in with the possibility of no-alcohol (and death, but that is less important) thankfully behind them.

The smallish black and white cat sat miserably underneath a small pile of floation devices as water from the pelting rain soaked its head and and back while the even more water sloshed around the floor of the boat, drenching its tail and paws. Shae sighed inwardly.
Perhaps stowing away wasn't the best of ideas. Still, it surely has to more fun than hanging around with the parents at...

Her thoughts were interupted by a loud crack and a sudden jarring motion that sent her small form splaying through the air, over the side of the tour boat. She landed on all fours, skidding somewhat clumsily along the damp algae slickened rocks. A mew escaped her throat as she saw that not everyone in the boat had been so lucky.

Shae watched as all the surviving passengers began making their way to the shore of the island. The small cat jumped down into the waves behind the rocks.

Eventually a young pooka woman in her very late teens reached the shore. She shook her head vigorously, sending droplets of water flying from her chin length black hair and rubbed her large green eyes in order to wipe away...in order to wipe away the copious amounts of sea water, obviously. Shae shook her head again and looked around, her expression holding a strange mixture of curiousity and determination.

The rain continued to pound away, limiting visibility severely on the sandy beach and the tropical foilage that lay a few dozen yards from the actual shoreline. The tall, green-leafed trees promise some measure of respite from the vicious rain and the fiercely crashing waves that beseize the shore.

Wonderful, only the freaks seem to have made it. thought Charles as he regained his breath and struggled back to his feet. He needed better shelter, and started to scramble through the bushes behind him to get to the thicker foliage. He also started to pat his shirt pockets in search for his mobile phone, as if it would work out here in the middle of nowhere after being saturated. He didn't find it, however; it had obviously slipped out of his pocket as he was swimming to shore.

Shae struggled to see anything through the stinging wind and rain. Finally she noticed a hint of green somewhere up high. She struggled, head down against the strong winds that threatened to upset her balance, toward the hint of shelter that the trees seemed to promise. Soon it felt like the torrents were no longer trying pound down with enough rip flesh from bone.

Walking deeper into the foilage, Shae closed her eyes rubbed her face vigorously with the hopes that just that small part of her would stay dry for at least a minute. This was supposed to be fun Shae thought, as tears threatened to fill her eyes again. To distract herself, she began humming a wordless, comforting tune as she walked around looking for a dry area, looking for other survivors, looking for anything that would leave her less wet, less lost, or less alone.

After finishing off their drinks the three Goblins hauled themselves to their feet and grabbed the boxes that they had managed to grab before they left. Boxes which contained nothing useful save containers of various alcoholic liquids - Goblins are good at looking after those, and tend to try to preserve their drinks from any fate other than drinking at whatever cost.

The small party of short, green Goblins hauled their crates over their shoulders as they ran up toward the trees, their overlarge feet helping them across the shifting sand, and the crates protecting them from the stinging rain. Despite the protection of the crates the Goblins were still being hit frequently by fat, heavy, painful raindrops that slammed into their clothing, the force punching through onto their green hide, and spurring them to move faster.

After what seemed like an eternity (because everything has to seem like an eternity in fiction, and Goblins are no exception when they lack drinks) they staggered under the trees, a few from the front, and grabbed what broken wood and leaves they could find and built themselves a makeshift shelter - not a very good shelter, but better than would be expected from Goblins. Goblins when being paranoid ("Ev'n da wevver iz afterz uzz'z!") can do things surprisingly well...when not looking around frantically for anyone or anything sneaking up upon them.

Once ensconced in their reasonably roomy, albeit fairly pathetic, shelter against the elements, they starting yelling for other survivors in the vague hope that they would either have more alcohol with them (Goblins dislike using their own stashes when they can get drinks from someone else), the ability to build better shelters (for the obvious reason) or that they would somehow be able to generate heat without the need for alcohol (because Goblins dislike using up alcohol for such a trivial thing).

There's a shifting in the trees as the rain slowly dies down. The huddled survivors can feel alien eyes on them, shapes not quite seen in the undergrowth watching them. No one speaks. There is no sound but the snap of a twig, the ruffling of a leaf. The jungle watches and waits as the shelter on the edge of the treeline.

(OOC: Resurgent could you give a link please to the sign up thread?)

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=388464

Murdock layed face down in the wet sand, he was talking to himself in his head. Feeling very perturbed at his current situation. Not only was he stuck on this island, but now his mission was delayed. He heard the noise of the others walking around, just as he heard the waves washing and and washing out.

Get up, you were set out on a mission to save the galaxy and your face down in the sand on a beach?

He listened to himself and sat up, looking around, he was only sixteen years old. His normaly shaggy hair was a big wet tossled mess, and he was wearing a black sort of polyester mesh underneath a jacket. His somewhat baggy gray pants were soaked. He stood up and looked into the jungle around him.

"Something tells me this isn't any normal island," He said to himself.

Shae heard the sound of yelling off in the distance - the dialect sounded rather ... odd. Must be the goblins thought Shae, I've never spent much time around goblins before. I could perhabs be interesting. And if not that, a least better than being stuck here alone. A slight rueful grin tugged at the corners of Shae's mouth as she shouted, "Be right there. I know exactly where you are! But, uhm, keep making noises just in case I ge lost or something, okay?"

Shae began running through the undergrowth when she had the strangest feeling that she was being watched. She stopped suddenly, shoulders dropped as if she were about to crouch, ears twitching. She sniffed the air, not that doing so did much good in this form, but certain habits and mannerisms were ingrained. Like curiousity and heading off to places and looking into things she shouldn't. She straightened up, and swallowed, hoping that her voice wouldn't quiver too badly. "I know what you are. You've given yourselves away," she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper, "There is no point in even pretending to hide. You might as well come out now."

"Who said that?" shouted Charles as he made his way towards the sound of Shae's voice. His heavy footsteps on the jungle floor made an awful lot of noise as he tried to find another survivor. Almost tripping over a root, he staggered through a bush next to Shae and caught himself on a tree branch to stop himself from falling over. He glanced over her, not knowing really what to make of her, but decided that since he didn't see her on the boat, she had to be an islander.

"Oh thank goodness I've found you." he said in heavily accented English, relieved. "I was on a boat which crashed into some rocks and sunk just off the beach! There might be other survivors, and I need shelter. Would you be able to lead me to your village?"

Murdock sat down on the beach he was at, so far he hadn't seen any of the other survivors. He looked around, to his right was the beach, then to his left were some rocks, and just a bit past that the jungle went straight up to the water. Behind him was the rest of the jungle, and in front, of course, was the ocean. As he looked in the distance he began to see the sky clearing up. The ocean still roared, but it wasn't as bad.

He stood up, and looked all around. First he started wondering why he of all people was mysterious sent out on a mission to save the galaxy from no one in particular. He then started thinking about who it was that had chose him to go here, they never told him, all they said were they were 'higher beings'. Oh well, here he was now, most likely another chapter chosen in his story of life. He scratched his head, and then looked at the beach.

There was a lot of drift wood from the reckage of the boat, he had an idea.

He went out across the rocks and scouted out the area where the jungle met the ocean, and he found a small clearing, right beside some very shallow water. He ran back to the beach and started collecting driftwood, and other parts he found, he then went into the jungle and collected other peices of wood. Going back to the clearing he began to build himself a house.

Shae startled as the middle aged man came crashing out of the underbrush, almost falling on her. She bit her lip, listening to his questions. She looked at the man - he appeared human and his accent didn't place him from the Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream or from her own nation. She tugged on one of her pointed ears, as though nervous.

"Perhaps you know how to get to my village frome here? My pet cat was on that tour boat too," she said in a voice filled with sorrow.

Charles looked confused.

"Your pet cat?" he asked. "Mademoiselle, I don't know where your village is. Can you show me? I need shelter, and a telephone. You are from this island, aren't you?"

Shae tilted her head to the side for a moment appearing lost in thought. Finally she answered. "Yes, my pet cat, I suppose you haven't seen her .... You know, when my family was planning our vacation to the Resurgent Dream my parents thought it would be great fun to take a tour of this island. But I was dreadfully opposed to the idea. 'No,' I said, 'it would be much more interesting to spend all of our time touring stuffy old cultural museums.' " She paused for a minute sighing, before asking "Which do you think sounds more interesting?"

Charles shook his head. Either Shae had hurt her head, or she wasn't a fan of straight answers. Clearly, talking like that she wasn't from the island, but he didn't see her on the tour boat.

"Mademoiselle, you aren't from this island, that much is clear. How did you get here?" he asked insistently, starting to wonder whether he was wasting his time.

Shae shifted uneasily from foot to foot, looking just a tad bit guilty. "That, sir, is a very good question. I could tell you, but I promised one of the goblins from the boat- the one that was lounging near the life-preservers which my cat was hiding under - that I would keep such information strictly confidential. Strange that he would ask such a thing. Goblins are rather odd creatures, don't you think?" she said in a rush, only pausing a second to catch her breath before rushing into other questions.

"Why did you come this island? Do you know much about it?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

"I was on that boat... you know, the one your pet cat was travelling on, alone." Charles said. The girl was clearly bonkers. "Apparently there's a settlement on this island somewhere. I think we'd both better go looking for it, there might be someone there who can help us. Better get those bloody goblins you were talking about too. Here, come with me, let's not get split up, we'll be safer together."

Charles led Shae through the bushes and trees to the treeline where the jungle met the shore, back to where he had seen the goblins last. While he had been wandering about they had erected a crude shelter.

"Industrious little Turks aren't they..." Charles murmured to Shae, before raising his voice and shouting to the goblins. "Here, you lot, there's a settlement on this island, at least I think there is, why don't you get out of that little shack thing you've built, and come look for it with us. They might have proper shelter. We better get moving and find the place before dark, don't you think?"

He glanced out to the beach. Some bright spark had erected a makeshift shelter in the middle of the pelting rain, exposed to the elements. He saw Murdock moving about it, and recognised him from the boat.

"Hey there, boy!" he called out in a thick accent. "We're going to look for a village! I think we'd be safer together than separate, do you want to come with us?"

Murdock was putting a wall up, or trying to at least, when he heard a voice call out. His first reaction was to run for he wasn't very sure this island was safe, but then he realized there must have been other survivors from the crash. He spun around and saw a man, a woman, and some...goblins, on the beach a little while away.

He stepped away from the shelter and analyzed them for a moment, and then remembered all of them from the boat. "Hoy there! Yes I'll be right over!"

He then ran across the beach, and as he did he realized his shoe was torn, he'd have to make a new one later on, but right now he was just interested in being in the company of others. He reached them and looked around at them again.

"Where are we going exactly?" He asked.

"Well we don't know exactly, but I'm pretty bloody sure there's a village or a settlement on this island somewhere. We're going to find it." said Charles. "And unless anybody has any dazzling navigatory insights, may I suggest we try along the coast line first? This jungle looks like it could get pretty thick."

"Coast line sounds fine," Murdock said glancing at the looming dark jungle once more.

Shae looked at the two men, and turned toward the coast, thinking of the storm. "What level of technology do these islanders have?" she asked.

"Let's hope they don't have cars!" Charles murmured, his capitalist instinct overwhelming the desperation of the situation for a moment. He still hadn't given up on the idea of this island being a virgin market for Peacock Motors. "Let's get moving."

He started to move through the jungle along the coast, making sure he never got too far away from the rest of the group. If they got attacked, he hoped that the goblins would get eaten first.

"Cars... what are you talking about?" Shae yelled out. This particular human was certainly weird. She hurried to catch up to Charles. "When I was little I could build the best sandcastles. They were huge - big enough to use as a playhouse! And the rain or the surf never washed them away. And the people who I thought might want to knock them over couldn't even see them. The other kids were jealous because they had to use other materials or build somewhere safer. But then I got older and learned physics and forgot how to do all that. Sad, really. Guess if I wanted I could always learn how to build real houses with durable materials," she said shrugging.

"Oh you poor thing." Charles cooed to Shae. She had clearly lost the plot. "Don't worry, we'll find someplace nice and dry and warm, I'm sure there's a settlement nearby. They'll have... umm... real houses for you there."

Giant sandcastles. Really. Charles shook his head. He had no idea where this girl had come from, but was quite sure that she had left her marbles there.

Murdock stuck close behind those two. The girl seemed bonkers but the man seemed normal enough. He heard the girl talking something about sandcastles and how she can't build them anymore. He shook his head and looked out at the ocean. The waves were still pretty big, and the sky was gray still.

He turned and looked ahead, if they got attacked, he would blame it on the girl and her excessively loud mouth.

As they walked, there was an eruption of movement in the trees. Men, or what looked like Men, burst around the small group on all sides, breaking from the foilage and leveling spears at each lost tourist almost faster than the eye could see, faster than anyone had any right to move.

The men were dark-skinned like one might find the natives of the Pacific Islands. They were tall (the shortest was six feet at least), muscular, and lean and wore only simple grass skirts to cover their nakedness. The spears were wooden with tips of stone.

There were nine of them. Two held spears at the throats of each goblin and one accosted each of the other members of the party. The tallest spoke harshly in Hawaian. "Trespassers, by what right do you set foot on our island?"

"Oh my..." Charles said with consternation, his double chin wobbling as he trembled slightly as a result of both the rain and fear. Still, he thought he was reasonably well prepared to deal with natives, and started to speaking pidgeon English.

"We mean 'em no bad. We friends!" he insisted, oblivious the fact that his condescension might be taken as insulting. "We come on big boat, boat crash, now we lost on your island. Please help us!"

As the trees rattled Shae drew herself to her full height. The quiet hissing sound that had barely begun to escape her throat was cut off as she found herself staring directly at a well muscled chest. Her jaw dropped as she took in the rest of the sight before her. For half a second she almost forgotten that these men - not humans though, or at least they didn't feel quite human - were carrying spears, until Charles incoherent babbling reminded her of the situation.
The man sounded scared silly - quite literally.

Shae looked up at her captors. "Did we do something wrong?"

Charles was worried the innocent and well-meaning but demonstrably deranged Shae would get them into more trouble.

"Ssssh girl, I'll handle this, don't worry, I know how to talk to natives." he whispered.

Murdock whispered to the girl. "Don't speak, if you alarm them these men might kill all of us. Let the man do the talking, me and you can just sit back and hope for the best..."

He then turned his eyes towards Charles. "Unless you want me to help in some way."

"I'll let you know." Charles replied, swallowing hard.

"You see, we not want 'em fight!" Charles said to the natives. "We friends."

He forced a broad smile across his round face. With his double chin and cheeks rosy from years of drink, he hardly looked like a threatening sort. He motioned for the others to smile too.

"Friends, yes?"

Murdock looked at him, then back at the natives, then back at him, and nodded quickly. smiling the best he could. "Yes, friends."

Meanwhile, the three Goblins had decided to follow the other group of visitors and had packed up their booze crates. They were now dragging them along by using fallen branches and driftwood as they ambled along with one hand dragging, the other clutching a bottle of drink.

The Goblins heard the commotion up ahead and boldly drew themselves up to their full heights, bravely set down their crates, and in a display of mighty Goblinness, sat down for another drink while the natives and tourists had their discussion.

"Oi, Kobblegiz, wotz da King gotcha doin' atta mument?"

"Yezzez no datz ulreddy, Bounzun, ull free'z uv uzzez iz onna Speshal Projec'"

"Oh yezz...Oi'd furgutten..."

And so the conversation went on, punctuated frequently by noisy slurps and swallows.

As the goblins started to hunker down, the six men holding spears at their throats press in so that any more downward movement will result in the spears piercing their throats. "Stand!" one of the native called our harshly, still in Hawaian.

The others moved behind Marduk and Charles, pressing spears into their backs and shoving them forward. "Walk!"

The last native lowered his spear, walking around Shae with interest. He grabbed her chin and tilted her head up, examining her face and neck. He prodded her body lightly with the butt of the spear, though not anywhere inappropriate. "Mennehune?"

Murdock jumped slightly as the spear prodded him in the back. He turned around and glared at the native but when the order was issued he started walking forward. He had no idea where they were taking them, but it was either go, and possibly die, or stay, and die. So he chose to go.

"No, no," He complained. "Maybe you don't understand! We mean you no harm! We crashed here on accident!"

Charles had no idea what the native was talking about, but it was clear from the poking and shoving that he was supposed to walk forward.

"Ah, taking us to your village eh?" Charles asked nervously. He started walking without resistance. "I can see you don't speak English. Parlez-vous français par chance? Non? Merde."

He noted that Shae wasn't being compelled to walk with them.

"Here, she's with us!" Charles insisted. He motioned for Shae to join them. The goblins could stay out in the jungle, but Charles reasoned the girl's head was too messed up for her to be able to survive out here. "Come on girl, start walking with us, that native chap might get the idea and let you come along!"

Shae looked up at the tall native who had asked her something, smiled and shrugged.

She heard Charles yelling. "I really should go with you, if it is alright" she said to the man. "Those others might be too afraid if I stayed here. Poor things. The wreck really shook them up badly. I think they finally realize how completely lost they would be if I weren't here to help them."

The beings continued pushing Charles and Murdock deeper into the jungle. Some distance off, one of them yelled in Hawaiian, being answered by a voice from deeper within the island.

Very swiftly, two more of the men, identical to those already seen, nurst from the trees, carrying primitive ropes and a large pole. The man guarding Shae presses his spear into her slightly, gesturing sharply for her to lie down.

"Hey guys," Murdock said as they got deeper into the jungle. He glanced all around, it was getting darker and darker the deeper they got. "We mean you no harm. You understand? We no harm. Friends, we friends. Why don't you understand that?"

He looked around at them as he was prodded along. "We are nice people, good, we good. We don't want to hurt you, we just want help from you. Having a spear poked at my back is not helpful. We want off your island as much as you want us off. Do you understand that? We want off. We go. If you let us go, we won't have to trespass anymore."

He felt that this was all entirely feeble and wouldn't work, they probably didn't understand even half of what he was saying, so he tried something else. He pointed at himself and at Charles, and then pointed at the sea. With one hand he did hand motions of a wave, and another hand he went overtop the wave.

"Boat, we need boat," He said.

He took both hands and pointed at Charles and himself. "We."

He then twiddled his two fingers and moved them in a direction. "Go."

He pointed at the horizon. "Away."

He pointed at the natives. "If you."

He stopped, he couldn't think of hand motions, he then nodded his head after realized. He nodded one more time so they understood. "Let us."

He did all the motions at once and spoke as he did. "We go away if you let us."

Shae nodded and dropped immediately down to the ground, holding perfectly still, barely glancing up through her hair to see what was happening.

The men continued to force Murdock and Charles forward. Meanwhile, they tied Shae to the pole by her hands and feet, hoisting it up and carrying it with her just dangling there. Even as the others are forced into the forest, the spearmen move behind the goblins, forcing them after their fellow survivors.

"I believe these ghastly chaps are planning to eat her..." Charles murmured to Murdock. "They must be taking us to their village. Maybe there's somebody who can speak English there. If there isn't and we still can't reason with them, then we'll have to try to run..."

"Kinda have to feel bad for her," Murdock whispered back. "She was completely oblivious to reality, wonder if she ever actually truely lived."

He looked deeper into the jungle. "Looks like its just me and you now, unless they aren't planning on killing the goblins."

Meanwhile, the group of three Goblins were deep in a "discussion" about what to do. The current arguments appeared to be: Drink and co-operate, don't drink and co-operate, drink a bit and co-operate, or simply not to co-operate and maybe have a drink at the same time. Strangely enough all three Goblins appeared to be arguing for each of the options - one Goblin would argue for co-operation and then switch to uncooperation in an instant, while his friends did the same.

Regardless of the reasons, the Goblins were having an argument and were totally oblivious to the events unfolding that concerned the others. The four-foot short greenskins appeared to be having a great time, as Goblins always enjoy a good argument, and during the course of it they get around to offering the others a drink, somehow managing to ask politely (if in their atrocious accent) while still arguing with each other at the top of their voices.

The substance contained in the bottles offered was labelled "Da StRong StuFF", and bore the words "Wiv SpeysHul FlaivRinZ an 110% AlCylol", it was apparently from the "GybLixX BrUry". It was glowing. Green, blue, red, all kinds of colours mixed in eye-jarring colours.

"Really, I thank you for carrying me, but perhaps it is not necessary. I am certain that you mean it as a kindness..." Shae said calmly, although the expression in her eyes did not quite match the tone of her words.

"Great. How in name of the thousand bloody hells am I going to get out of this whatever it is that is happening?" she wondered.

The warriors carried Shae through the jungle, shoving the others along. Soon, they passed into a large village. Other natives like the ones carried them mingled with a plumper breed and a few natives with a form, judgmental demeanor. One of the stern ones moved towards the tourists, drawing a white shell knife.

"Now now... there's no need for that!" Charles said in alarm at the sight of the blade. "We're friendly! We're just lost, that's all!"

His mind raced as he looked around nervously. He didn't fancy his chances of out-running an asthmatic ant with some heavy shopping, let alone natives familiar with the terrain. He thought even less of his chances of fighting his way out.

A tall native man stepped out from the jungle, blowing a conk horn loudly. Every native in the village immediately bowed deeply. The natives jabbed spears into the backs of the visitors, forcing them to kneel as well.

Soon afterwards, a tall, elegant, perfect man moved out from the jungle. He was as beautiful as any Sidhe, shining with a god-like radiance that inspired overwhelming awe and fear directly into the hearts of all who saw it. The being simply radiated power as he coldly surveyed the newcomers, the sun glistening on his bare, brown skin. Short black hair left his rounded ears perfectly exposed, though they seemed to streamline perfectly with the rest of his beyond glorious visage. He walked over to Shae, looking down at her analytically. After a long moment, he gestured sharply and a number of natives moved quickly to untie the Pooka.

His face bore a stern look, burning with an intimidating fire that seemed to freeze the very hearts of on-lookers. Whatever one thought of the matter, this man left an unshakable impression of being quite in charge of the matter. Of course, the fact that he seemed to command hundreds of vilalgers, many of them armed, seemed to give a rather chilling reality to the impression of his appearance.

Shea rubbed her wrists wrists where the ropes head chaffed them. Glaring towards the men who had tied her up she tossed her head, while vocalizing a indignant sounding "hmph."

Physically, the tall splendid man did not appear to be a Sidhe lord, but his attitude and the aura suggested that something akin to one. Perhaps it is best to treat him as though he were a Sidhe. Of course, now is probably not the best time to play games, discretion being the better part of continued survival and whatnot. Shae thought.

With an inward sigh and a slight grin, Shae decided to mimic the villagers, and bow in the direction of the leader.

"Monsieur," Charles said from his supplicant position to the man so obviously in charge. "We're tourists, shipwrecked, and in need of your help. I can assure you that we mean you no harm, and that these brutish simpletons needn't wave their spears about the place at us. Would you by any chance have a telephone?"

The man walked over to Shae without a word and she felt dream energies pouring into her, nurturing her, as soon as he arrived.

Shae purred and basked in the glow of the glamour for a few moments. "Oh, manners..." she said muttered in Elvish being so awash in the energies of dreams that any other language felt alien. She bit her lip a second then smiled broadly before continuing. "Thank you. Very much. If I may introduce myself, my name is Shandra Hyacinth Amarylis Elliandra... but you may call me Shae as it is much easier and well," she dropped her voice to a whisper, "some of the people who were in the boat that wrecked are easily confused..." she trailed off, glancing to the side to see if the villagers were still bowing. Besides, she rather liked some of the view.

Meanwhile, the three Goblins are on the knees holding a quiet (amazingly) conversation on the merits of alcohol - probably quiet because none of the three have anything at all against alcoholic drinks, excepting only the price.

For a little while they did not appear to have noticed the Fae, being caught up in the entertainments of getting drunk as only a Goblin can and due to the sheer power of Goblin stupidity when it comes to actually noticing powerful things. Then they caught sight of the Fae. Luminescent eyes widened and it was as if the Goblins were about to collapse from sheer awe until stupidity once again reared its ugly head. "Da Powa" possessed by all Goblins (albeit in varying quantities) is highly dependant upon the moods of the Goblin at the time, in this case the innate Goblin magicks, started working to counter the awe-inspiring presence of the Fae, and did this by temporarily blinding the Goblins. Just because it is magical does not mean that it has to be intelligent.

The Goblins, now freed of having to see the might, great, wonderful being and instead being blind...surrounded...trapped...vulnerable...

The magicks quickly stopped the blindness before the Goblins could decide to to spring up and try to flee, which would have doubtlessly have left them lying bleeding on the ground with numerous sharp, pointed objects jutting out of their green skins. Instead "Da Powa" worked by attempting to simply counter the awe. It failed rather impressively. Although the Goblins did not receive the full force of the aura (the Goblin magicks having reduced its effect over them to a level that would not have greatly affected someone of a human's intellect...sadly these particular Goblins are considerably less intelligent than a human, and thus the effects remain almost at their full strength, relatively speaking) they received easily enough to bowl their (very) little minds over. One of them lifted up a bottle of the disturbingly glowy liquid as if offering it to the stunning figure.

This would perhaps be an appropriate time to actually describe the three. They are about four feet tall (four feet short might be more appropriate) with skin that ranges from a pale green to a dark murky green-brown (on the same Goblin usually, although on of them is a uniform emerald green all over). They have large slitted (cat-like) eyes that appear to change colour from yellow-gold to a crystal blue and then to a pale green, travelling through several other shades at random. Their clotihng is fairly ramshackle, although there does appear to be some kind of purpose behind it, although it might just be "use as many bits of string and multicoloured cloth as possible". They have long pointed ears with several piercings in them. Their hair hangs to about shoulder-height and is surpringly thick and healthy-looking. It is also painful to the eye due to the psychadellic colours that it has been dyed, from luminous green fading to purple to bright orange, or any of a multitude of terrifyingly mismatched colours.

The awe-inspiring man turned on his heels and began to walk away. Meanwhile, the warriors again surrounded the prisoners, beginning to force them back out into the jungle at spearpoint.

"Here now!" Charles protested as he was forced back into the jungle. "Here now, we need your help! We need shelter, and a telephone! Blast, don't any of you simpletons speak English? Ou français?"

"Maybe the just don't want to talk to us, for some reason." Shae answered, somewhat unhelpfully.

The natives walked them a few hundred yards into the jungle before shoving them to the ground and turning back towards the village.

Charles pulled himself to his feet, and ineffectually tried to wipe the dirt from the jungle floor off his damp Hawaiian t-shirt.

"Well I'm just about bloody sick of this!" Charles declared. "I represent a multi-billion ducat corporation, I'll not tolerate being shoved about by a bunch of savages with pointy sticks! I'm going to go back there and demand to talk to that leaderish looking chap, and I don't plan on leaving until I see him!"

Charles stormed back towards the village, grumbling curses in French about the rain, the rip in his shirt's sleeve, the density of the jungle, and his whole predicament in general.