Antarctic Termite — Roleplayer Guild

The road was indeed just as shiny as expected, and Geckle's hooves clicked on the neatly aligned bricks. Alone on the path with nothing to frighten him, his transformation had gone well that day. From the hairy brown pony's eyes he admired the building's size, wondering what the goblins would attempt when they arrived. It's well defended, I would think. Tall guards and strong magic. I wonder if there's anything they didn't cover... Waiting for the gate to lower, Geckle took a thorough look at what he could see of the palace exterior, but he was too close to examine much more than the gate anymore, which seemed flawless. Should've tried earlier. Look sharp, Geckle.

Addressed by the Captain, Geckle raised his head and followed the voice immediately in a rather un-horse-like reaction. Oh... Oh! She'll be able to tell I'm no pony, won't she? Oh, oh my, mustn't forget manners... With a short grunt, Geckle's body suddenly shrivelled up and shrunk away into his usual collection of robes and warts. The party's packs he had been carrying dropped suddenly on the floor around him, and he hurriedly looked around to see if he'd damaged anything before responding to the mage, whom he rightfully found intimidating. "Er, Geckle, C-captain. Geckle, druid from the northern wetlands. I travel with my companions. Many apologies for my, er, rudeness." The halfling made a short bow. In his natural form he suddenly felt conscious of his appearance amidst all the approaching gold and armour. Too late for fanciness now, but rising up, he made a good effort to stand tall before her sharp gaze.

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