Galving Gears was in his warehouse/lab/sleeping area when the bell rang on his counter. "Ay, ay, I shall adress your concerns shortly, just allow me to properly store these volatile substances so Bryn yr Gwyn don't come for all of us!" Galvin then proceeded to finish his toast, as all his volatile chemicals were already safely stored away. After a minute or so, he headed out to the counter, demononstratively wiping some black-ish substance from his coat. He climbed up to the counter (he had a set of moving stairs attatched to it like a ladder) and looked at his customer though his shaded goggles, with a big grin. "Right then, sir, how may I assist you today?"

His customer was a gaunt man, tall and elegantly clad. Many of Galvin's most steady customers were merchants or nobility, requiring Galvin's help with the latest and most sophisticated of oddities and pieces of artifice. The man currently standing before him had been there before - an aging merchant with a rapidly deteriorating eyesight. "I have come to get my lenses adjusted once again, mr. Gears." Galvin took the goggles and absentmindedly dismantled the frame, removing the lenses. They were only a few months old and could easily be recycled, so he placed them on one of the few, small, free spaces under his counter. "Naturally, mister Maro. Find your way to th examination seat and I'll prepare the usual tests."

Despite his messy shop and erratic demeanour, Galvin knew what he was doing. It took ten minutes to find the right strength for mr. Maro's glasses, another ten to find a suitable pair, and less than a minute to reassemble the glasses. Handing the glasses back to the marchant, Galvin got right on to business. "Twelve for my time, five for equipment wear, fourty for the lenses minus a twenty-five-crescent trade-in. Knock off a few for being a regular. Thirty silver crescents, please, mr. Maro." The merchant happily paid (it was much better than getting a new pair each time he needed adjustment) and even included a five-crescent tip, leaving the albino goblin quite satisfied. He adjusted his goggles, and went back to the counter to write down the earnings in his ledger - forgiong, of course, the mention of his tip.

Adeluna city the city at the center of the world. It was here where every traveler will probably go through at least once in their life. Scrubble had arrived recently via the northern roads having just completed a mission from his holy lord Scrubble. Now he would take a short respite before continuing on his holy journey. This city was filled with worshipers of false deities, though Scrubble was not worried they'd see the light of Scrubble in time. For now it was his job to carry out Scrubbles will because nobody else will. Truly the weight on Scrubbles shoulders were great but if there was anyone up to the task it was Scrubble.

Scrubble hit a fork in the road not sure in which direction to go he asked his lord Scrubble. "Does Scrubble think we should go left or right. Scrubble says Scrubble should go right". Following the words of his lord Scrubble turned right and began walking again. What manner of evil is this, a wall! Standing in the path laid by the holy lord Scrubble what heresy! Scrubble drew his blade and began a fight with the wall that spits in the face of lord Scrubble. It was truly an epic confrontation lasting over an hour but the wall refused to get out of the way. Even with the overwhelming force of Scrubble holy knight of Scrubble bearing down upon it. It was at this point that Scrubble realized that the wall must have been placed by Scrubble himself to test Scrubbles resolve. Steeling his resolve Scrubble charged the wall in an attempt to fling himself over it.

Instead of going over it Scrubble simply crashed through the window. Scrubble having defeated the wall carved the sigil of Scrubble into it; so all would know of Scrubble's holy victory. Now what had the wall been hiding from the keen eyes of Scrubble. It appeared to be the inside of a building with various strange objects placed on the wall. Scrubble needed guidance "Does Scrubble think Scrubble should investigate. Scrubble must investigate it is the will of Scrubble". So Scrubble began rather loudly looking around the building looking for anything that might help Scrubble on his holy quest. Not really knowing what his holy quest was Scrubble decided it would be best just to try to use everything in room he was in.

Galvin was looking through a large stack of books to find an old blueprint, located in his attic. As he oftentimes did, he was talking to himself while looking. "So I seem to recall having left the blueprint between pages sixty-eight and sixty-nine of 'metallurgy in alchemy', but where on Revaliir did I put that intellectually subperflous tome? Ah! There we go." The book was the third from the bottom in a pile twenty-six books high, but Galvin tried to just pull it out nevertheless. As he saw the pile of paper tumble down towards him, a thought raced through the goblin's mind. In hindsight, I should probably have built a bookshelf up here, so I could effectively categorize my excess scripts and clear some space. Then again, I might just be thinking this because I am about to be buried in outdated literature, which I anticipate to be a painful endeavour. I must remember to reasess this issue when imminent pain is no longer a factor. The books then landed on top of the poor goblin with a crash, coincidentally happening at the same time as his downstairs window breaking. Galvin himself didn't make much of a sound, as he was too busy bracing himself to prevent his precious goggles from sustaining damage.

After a few seconds, Galvin finally manages to dig himself out of the pile of books, dusting himself off and reassuring himself that his goggles were still in pristine condition. He was still oblivious to his intruder downstairs, and so he dug through the books to find the tome he was looking for, only to open it and find that the blueprint inside was missing. Looking around the room, Galvin finally saw a rolled-up scroll lying next to the spiral staircase, remembering he had withdrawn the blueprint some time ago when designing a new mechanical eye for a merchant vessel. He was about to walk over to fetch it when his attention was taken in by a dull thud from downstrairs, followed by a whisp of black smoke creeping up the stairs. Horrified, Galvin put on a mask (vapours, gases, and accidents with fire were frequent enough to warrnat having one in his house) and ran downstrairs.

The entire shop was covered in black smoke from floor to ceiling. A draft was pulling the smoke towards the warehouse/lab/sleeping area, Galvin noted, and doing the math, he assumed he had been burgled. As a result, Galvin went to a shelf, put on some special gloves, and dipped them in his favoured flammable substance before setting his gloves alight. He then marched into his lab, growling, making the scary cave-demon-like noise that only goblins were really good at emulating - forgetting his mask completely, making the sound muffled and odd. "Confusticate and confund you, intruder! Why are you here!?"

Scrubble took anything that wasn't nailed to the floor and began sorting it into two piles. Which Scrubble labelled with paper that the holy lord Scrubble had guided him to. One pile was stuff Scrubble might need for his most holy missions. The other was Stuff Scrubble won't need for his most holy missions. The process for what went in what pile was rather simple Scrubble would ask his holy lord Scrubble. "Does Scrubble think Scrubble will need this for his quests? Yes Scrubble might need this for his quests". As such one pile was significantly larger than the other. And by that I mean the pile with things Scrubble might need had everything, while the pile with the stuff Scrubble wouldn't need was noticeably barren. Scrubble had even taken the sign labeling the pile away thinking that you never know when you might need such a piece of paper.

Now you might think that haphazardly throwing various items onto a pile of various other items would probably be a horrible idea. And you'd be right in this assumption. As while Scrubble was "sorting" all the items in this strange room. Which Scrubble still had yet to even think about who owned said room and every object in it. As far as Scrubble was concerned this room had been sent to him by the most holy god Scrubble. But suddenly treachery one of the items Scrubble had thrown onto the pile exploded! Truly this was expected by nobody. Only through the will of Scrubble did Scrubble survive the encounter. The explosion of the thing caused the room to fill with smoke. The only solution was to stab the weird thing that had defiled the pile that Scrubble had taken so much care to make.

Even though Scrubble thoroughly vanquished his foe the smoke remained. This fact was only heightened when a muffled rumbling sound was heard through the smoke. Truly Scrubble was testing Scrubble today what creature would try to contest the almighty paladin Scrubble. But wait the creature had just called Scrubble an intruder! "Scrubble is no intruder this place is a holy sight of Scrubble how dare you defile Scrubbles most holy ground". With that he charged in the general direction of the voice, through the pile of items that Scrubble had "carefully" stacked. As he got closer Scrubble noticed some fire, in fact he noticed it so hard that Scrubble careened into a wall.

As the intruder mentioned something about the place being a holy site for Scrubble (which was apparently the intruder himself), Galvin was too perplexed to say anything, leading to sheer panic as he was charged by this strange trespasser. However, something caused the creature to steer of course, crashing into a wall next to Galvin. Galvin gathered his wits. He placed his gloves on the stone floor as a diversion, and tiptoed to the side. "This is Galvin Gear's Gadgets and Gizmos, and I've been running this shop for five years! And here you come, a stranger, breaking my window and blowing up my lab, slash warehouse, slash living space, trying to steal my inventory!" Galvin was still ignorant that Scrubble was a goblin, like him.

Scrubble was a little dazed after running head first into a wall. Albeit this might have come from all the smoke that Scrubble was inhaling without a care in the world. Scrubble therefore decided that if Scrubble wanted to fight the thing that kept shouting at him. This meant probably finding a door to open it. Truly a cunning plan, Scrubble took a moment to thank Scrubble for Scrubbles almighty wisdom. Now Scrubble just had to find a door. Maybe the loud shouting thing would know. Scrubble turned towards the fire on the floor and asked "Do you know where Scrubble might find a door". Truly Scrubbles cunning was unrivaled once the fire revealed the location of the door Scrubble would be able to open it and finally see his opponent.

Wait a second Scrubble could see the fire now! Scrubble gathered all his strength and charged at the fire blessing his blade with the holy magic of Scrubble. With the Strength of Scrubble flowing through the sword the fire never stood a chance. Slashing at the gloves until they were completely useless Scrubble vanquished the fire. Truly Scrubble had done Scrubbles will today. Now back to finding that door, since in all the commotion of slaying the fire monster Scrubble had forgotten that Scrubble had asked about it. After walking towards where Scrubble hoped a door would be. Scrubble instead walked through what was left of the pile knocking what was left of the stuff all around the room.

Galvin observed (using his ears) as the intruder took the bait and slew his precious gloves. Note to self: invest in more gloves. He had just about had it when the intruder saw fit to stumble into a pile of his things, and Galvin heard the distinct sploing of clockwork mechanisms unraveling and the crash of shattering glass. Jusding by the sound, three clockwork mechanisms and half a dozen chemical containers. Cleaning and repair time should be roughly twenty-two point six hours of labour. Monetary cost unknown. Galvin's mind raced to comprehend the carnage done to his store, the hours of work gone to waste. Alas, his emotional buttons had long since been pressed in just the right sequence, and Galvin's heart raced with anger.

The little creature ran headfirst towards the sound of the crash, tackling the obscured figure of his intruder. He flailed his arms wildly, punching with all his might (which wasn't very impressive) and yelling a long sting of colourful profanities (which was impressive) at the trespasser. His own shades left him basically blind, however, while his snow-white skin would shine like a beacon in the smoke.

Now what was Scrubble gonna do, so many of the items Scrubble might need for the holy quests Scrubble was going to send him on were ruined. Though before Scrubble could show any remorse for the actions that Scrubble had taken, the holy voice of Scrubble spoke to Scrubble. "Do not fear Scrubble for destroying these objects is part of a holy test of Scrubble!". This reinvigorated Scrubble, who was now prepared for anything. Well that's what Scrubble thought but suddenly out of nowhere the strange creature invading Scrubbles holy temply accosted Scrubble throwing insults and fists alike. While the insults were very impressive the punches were the opposite. In fact Scrubble was rather preoccupied listening to the insults which means Scrubble didn't notice the punching right away.

Though as soon as Scrubble did notice Scrubble prepared for battle. Steeling himself with the resolve of the toughest paladins, albeit most paladins fight for more than Scrubble does. Instead of pulling out his blade Scrubble planted his feet onto the ground. Scrubble then began to lean back channeling one of Scrubbles most righteous abilities! The Holy Headbutt Of Scrubble! While not that much different from a normal headbutt The Holy Headbutt Of Scrubble was still quite painful. Due to the speed at which Scrubble could whip his head forward. So using all of Scrubbles holy powers Scrubble flung his head straight towards the head of the rather pale creature that was assaulting him both physically and verbally.

Galvin, not being used to combat, failed miserably at reading the motion of his opponent's body, thinking that the backwards motion meant the intruder was retreating from his flailing arms. Encouraged, Galvin took a step forward, only to be met by some form of hard object launched at him with terrible speed. The intruder's head smashed into his with great force, barely missing his precious goggles, and Galvin stumbled backwards, screaming in pain. Immediately thereafter, Galvin forgot himself, and began cursing in the common tongue of goblins. "Dzipkarr ketzprakka schekk-morzank chahakkeitrtzor!" Anyone knowing said language would be immediately horrified, as the words implicated a most unsightly scene including fungus, great-aunts, bedroom activities, and the rectal opening of a giant slug.

As he was lying on the floor cradling his face, Galvin screamed out through his pain - in the common tongue this time. "Argh! You come in here, break into my shop, blow up my inventions, fill my house with smoke, loot my merchandise and headbutt me!? Who in the name of all the gods do you think you are, you -" the following phrase was yet another colourful string of highly imaginative profanities, most offensive. And so Galvin kept going, cursing until such a time the intruder would deign to respond.

CHalres was having a fine day, still fine even as he walked by a shop filled with smoke. Then he heard a long string of profanities being yelled, rather offensive aft that. So Charles decided to glancing inside. He saw a white form atop a darker FOR THE smoke, so, chalres drew his blade. 
"Cease now. Or get a room.