Meetup: The Thrill of it All

Setting up here at the Festival grounds is a group of four gnomes. In charge of the gang is Dababob, a gnome in an understated outfit. A burgundy sweater vest, dark colored slacks, and a clean shirt. He's in charge and directing the gang, but most of the time he's laying his face in his palm and sighing. The rest of the gang is in brightly colored work clothes, with stripes, polka dots, and paisleys. They apparently go by Chalarry, Abadaryl, and Habadaryl, though only Chalarry speaks for the group to the boss man.

"My brother Abadaryl says the stand is almost ready sir," Chalarry explains. "But my other brother Habadaryl says we're missing the backup control knob for the device." Dababob sighs heavily, and speaks in clipped words, emphasizing barely contained frustration. "Just don't worry about that, finish setting up so I can begin the demonstration." "Alright sir." And so before you know it, the stand is up, and Bob is before the group ready to begin.

Bob uses an improvised megaphone to project his voice to the slowly growing crowd. "Good morning and welcome to my demonstration. I have here today an invention so amazing, that I don't even know where to begin. Liquid soap that froths as much as you need, to wash everything in your home. And right here, I have the magical machine that generates this soap. I will start it up shortly. Are there any questions?"

Munch lounges near the edge of the crowd, able to see over most folks. The metal man idly nibbles on product from a local goblin merchant, 'Meat on a Stick'... given the lack of definition, the merchants lack of hygiene, and the golems reputation to eat anything, there has gathered a small crowd of Academy students daring each other to buy and eat a sample themselves.

As Raniq squeezes into the front of the crowd, he watches the gnomes with evident confusion. His ermine sniffs in the direction of the machine and chitters in Raniq's ear.

Munch watches, but isn't too interested. As a barbarian and a golem, soap isn't the sort of thing he encounters too often.

James heard the rumors. Being in the guild gives advantages when it comes to hearing rumors like that. He moves close, close enough to be able to see what's going on.

Telecorn was actually going to try to swim today, so she was walking down the river. Only to come across something going on here at the festival grounds! Oh boy oh boy oh boy a show. She hops on up around to see what's going on, having missed the initial spiel but really wanting to see.

Which is just in time for Bob to continue the presentation. "Alright," he says, clearly a soft-spoken gnome when not using his megaphone. "What my assistants here have done, is run a supply of water from the river, into the machine. This will allow me to mix soap, with water, and demonstrate to you the unlimited frothing potential of this magical soft soap. Larry, hit the button."

Larry looks, and shakes his head. "Sir the control knob is missing. My other brother knocked it off." Bob walks over and spits "I don't care. Turn it on. You're embarrassing me!" He then hits the button himself, and the machine whirrs to life. Soap bubbles begin to emerge from the machine, big and beautiful, catching the light and making rainbows. Unfortunately, the soap bubbles also begin to form in the river behind.

Mingling in the crowd are a few enterprising vendors selling chicken shish-ka-bobs, bags of roasted nuts, and other sundry snacks.

Munch says, "So... what? This for people too lazy to rub their hands together, or something?" He doesn't get it. He does however, spy a potential problem. "River supposed to be getting cleaned?"

Autumn wanders into the area from one of the side roads. Arms crossed under the long sleeves of her robes. She looks around at the odd gathering of adventurers and slowly approaches.

There's another gnome in the Festival Grounds too, with as questionable grasp on personal hygiene as the vendor of 'Meat on a Stick'. It's Ralickwort, and if anyone was ever in need of this invention, then he'd probably be it. Still, he's fairly set against it, although the little black fox a few steps behind him might feel differently. "Wassat smell?" he asks, gruffly, to Munch. "Smells like clean or summat. River should smell worse than that, hurr hurr hurr."

Raniq gasps as he sees the frothy spume spills into the river, then shakes his head and says, "Oh, dear dear dear."

James trills a laugh at this. The interplay between the demonstrators is more interesting to him than the soap. Feathers don't sweat.

Bob walks back up to the crowd, just in time to hear and see the reactions. "What do you mean cleaning the river?" he asks Munch, his frustration with the Larrys beginning to boil over. The gnome then leaps off of the stand, and runs around behind to see what's going on, first hand.

It's geting worse, too. The unlimited frothing potential, as he called it, is living up to its name. A hill of bubbles is forming in the river. Already as large as the stand itself, and growing with every minute. "Turn the control knob!" he shouts, running back around on his little legs, and climbing back up onto the demonstration stand. "Larry, turn the control knob, it's too high."

"Sir, it's busted. I tried to warn you but I was just embarrassing you. I'm sorry." Larry replies, as Bob shoves him out of the way and begins pawing at the machine, trying to find the knob, or something he can do." The bubbles are really getting out of control. It's like a localized blizzard back there.