While the rest of the crew has occupied themselves terrorizing their goblin prisoner, only one seems disinclined to join in the festivities. Marcon, having apparently noticed the single lonely wagon wheeling into the town square, has gone to recover his belongings. [hider=Marcon] As he approaches, one of the pair of guards greets him rather gruffly. Giving a cursory look at Marcon's wounded shoulder, followed by an impassive grunt, his hand goes to his waist. "[color=aba000]Oy, you lot want'cher pay?[/color]" You can see the fat purse he is holding in his hand, waving it briefly to draw your attention. "[color=aba000]They said somethin' bout not requiring your services anymore and wanting to make sure you were compensated for what work y'all did get done as they was headin' off. Way I figure they just din't wanna get a bad reputation for not payin' folk. I'll be honest, a part of me was hopin' something nasty was waiting in this town and I'd get a nice hefty chunk of change to take home in return for bein' so kind as to wait 'n see what was what, but I'm an honest man. It's all there for the six of ya. I trust it isn't too much to handle that I leave the rest of the distributin' to you.[/color]" As he finishes talking, he holds out the coin purse for Marcon to take and responsibly deal with (if he so chooses). [/hider] MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE FARM... Day was good. Was good until nasty invisible creatures attack poor Blik. Hold poor Blik still and threaten to do cruel things to Blik. All Blik is doing is having fun in empty town goblins take for their own. Nothing mean, nothing hurting. Now big mean invisible people want to cut off Blik hands and feet like nasty big people always do. Though the goblin had initially thrashed a little to get free, now it had gone quite rigid. When a slew of voices all began to speaking in rapid succession, Blik did her best to try and keep up with the confusion. "[color=9e0b0f]No! Yes! No! No! YES! NO![/color]" the goblin sputtered wildly as one after another different voice bombards her, muffled and distorted by the presence of the pumpkin still obscuring poor Blik's senses. [@Diablodil]