Skrall stood, his guitar in hand. he was short, and the guitar was not made for one of his size. Almost nothing was. He was a goblin, after all. Netch sat behind him, practicing the scales on her light spruce harp. Skrall thought she sounded much better that him, but she assured him that wasn't true, and that they needed both of them to make it work. He supposed she was right, but he had his doubts. Scrappy rag-pants, dust-colored and extremely scratched jacket, this was the look all goblins had. It was almost showtime. in a few minutes, this hollow under the tree would be filled with patrons to this bar. Golems would stand above everyone, dwarves, elves, taurics and elementals. But probably not one other goblin. it wasn't a goblin's world. but Skrall knew that with Netch's help, they could give these stuffy town folk something to enchant them.
