Gukb stood back and admired his work. The floor was hair free! A fine feat of house keeping, indeed. He carefully put the broom back, and then turned to look at the gaping hole in the roof. Staring into the starry night beyond, he chuckled to himself as he mused over Elric's invitation. 

"Askin' old Gukby to go bingin' wit 'im? Askin' old Gukby to get speared three feet from tha' door, more like!" he sneered. "Got's me better things to be doin', than convincin' tha' drunk locals I ain't here to murder their sheep." 

The goblin walked over to the hole, and putting both hands onto the edges, he heaved himself out onto the roof. A gentle breeze caught him then, and for the first time in years, his scalp felt it too. Releasing a long pleasurable sigh, he scratched his itchy head; more cuttings dislodged themselves from their entangled prison. His foot kicked something hard and wooden.

"Oh," he said softly. "Widowmaker, me love, hope yer didn't miss me. A King needs his Queen." 

Picking the weapon up, he slung it over his shoulder and turned to repair his vandalism; though a sudden spur of distant merry making drew him back. The town was alive, even in the night-time hours, and the goblin marvelled at the sprawling blanket of shadowy roofs and pulsing lights before him. Estermere in the dark may have passed as pretty, he figured, but the daytime version was a much more ugly affair. That was the thing with the colour black, it had a tendency to warp perception. 

Gukb soon found himself bored with looking out over a deception, a mere trick of the light indeed, and turned to face the three foot wooden panel he'd dislodged from the roof earlier. 

"My Kingdom will be a fairer place, oh yes it will," he murmured, kneeling down to inspect the panel. "No filthies, or povertah-ty, poverty. No cryin' babes. No weepin' womenfolk." He paused his ramblings, so that his lungs could lend their assistance to his arms. 

With a grunt, he picked up the panel, and walked it to the hole. His legs were unsteady, for though the load was not too much for his arms, it was a top heavy affair that lashed at his balance. A tile creaked beneath his shoes, and for a second he felt himself going over. 

"Be typical that, King Gukb the Humble fallin' to his doom performin' a simple errand," he said with a crack of laughter. "Wonder what they'd do wit me corpse." 

He [i]knew[/i] what the townsfolk would do, Elric's kindness be damned. 

The panel slammed against the weakened framework, and Gukb released a sigh. It was in place, but it wasn't secure. Now it was time for hammer work. The goblin didn't have such a tool, but Red Rust was a versatile ally. Using the discoloured pommel, he battered away along the edges of the panel; knocking rusted and bent metal into damp and lice-ridden wood. 

"Ye," he wheezed, "be keepin' out tha' rain this." 

And then he realised he was standing on the roof with no way back into the building. Profanity followed like a raging river of fiery justice directed towards the Gods of Sod. The trellis had carried him up, but he'd broken the last six rungs; getting down was going to be a comical affair.