Snippet #2477914

“Goblin! Come here, quick!”

Hearing this shout from down below surprised him, and he landed awkwardly on the corner of the next rooftop, spinning 'round to look out over the street he'd almost bounced past. He wiped absent-mindedly at the tears and blood caked on his face, discovering--with no small amount of dread--that some cultists, now even more monstrous in size and gory features, were eyeing him and the puppetmaster from before. Skittering further down the roof, he saw the source of the shout--the troll from the GMHO booth. The guy had a gaggle of civvies with him, many fighting alongside him, but all noticeably nervous. Seeing that the cultists would soon have hoisted themselves on to his rooftop, he grappled over to the wall just above the troll's band of civilians.

Smiling sheepishly, he said to the troll, "Heh.. You and I both know I'm the last guy you want fighting alongside you," and, turning to the small group of mothers and children, he continued, more softly, "but you lot are doing a great job so far! We're fairly close to the station, aren't we?" A young woman, either an older sister or a young mother, nodded first, and gave a meek smile. "I'll tell you what I'll do, then. I'll be a decoy, and lead these nasties away as best I can. Work with these strong and resourceful folks (he said, gesturing at the would-be magic hunters), and you'll be on that train in no time." The group of women and children seemed to stand a little straighter, the fighters nodding to each other.

With as brave a grin as he could manage, he leapt to the ground and ran straight for the group of mutants ahead. between the grappling shots and his jumping boots, he managed to dodge between feet and dance 'round blows and punches as the cultists wildly lunged for him. Being small does have its advantages... As he jumped and zipped just out of reach, he began to yell whatever insults came to mind, cursing their god and mocking them at every turn. The group had sidled around the first corner when one of the cultists' blows connected, sending Spotface flying across the street. Fine, but entirely winded, he gave a weak smile to the group, and staggered on, leading the cultists further down the street, and away from the growing stream of people working their way to the station. How long do I have to make it back to the train? He wondered... the he burst into laughter. What he'd give that moment for a pocketwatch...