Time: Monday, 30 August 2010
Moppet sat on the crate, unbelieving as Spittledrum carefully outlined the meek duties the lady needed to complete just before sundown. As she placed her silver covered mask upon her face for the umpteenth time, the mayor of the Goblin city strode up and down the corridor, bobbling incessantly. "And dastardly Moppet, don't forget that the Queen of Moraine has arrived in the internal schism of the Labyrinth - my Word, what in the name of Bogworth is the world coming to?" cursed the spindly figure, keeping his twitching fingers to himself, "Two daughters that Queen of Cups summoned, hardly a speculation but..." The goblin glanced away before cursing to himself some foul unheard of words that seemed hardly distinguishing, she was glad that the words were shut off as the Goblin heir entered the corridor, his large tassels sweeping the floor. The blonde suitor struck a manly pose as he was closely followed by his two protégés, Hana the fairy and Stank.
"Master," The lady attempted to stand, but grouch Spittledrum cast her aside with a trembling wave, "Whatever is the matter?" Toby's face appeared bleached and gaunt as the goblins observed him from atop the crumbling towers that awaited in the heart of the Labrinyth. Toby's adolescent face was angular with grief, "It's Jareth, he's conversing with that Witch..." He took several deep breaths, "about some scheme." Moppet's upper lip trembled slightly at this, downturned in disappointment at the heir's lack of trust. Couldn't Toby just be wary of the Queen of Moraine? She wondered briefly, just in time for the doors to be flanked by Moulin, a tall gothic lady with a blue triangular streak. The lady entered the room in a dignified manner, the daughter of the white Queen of Cups, out of respect Moulin bowed towards the Goblin heir, a slight smile upturned on her tight lips, "My mother has an obligation to see you."
"What sort of obligation?" snapped Hana, "Don't you daresay you've forgotten our promise about-"
"The wings, yeah... I'll get back to that!" sneered Toby in mocking discontentment as Moulin's rain drenched the marble tiles as they waited patiently. "Now, Jareth needs a deal?" Toby stated out of pure frustration, "hadn't he messed up my own..." He trailed off as Moulin stared. "I just wish... That the world of the Pathmaker,"
"Don't wish for anything as of yet. Not if my own mother had her way," confirmed Moulin, in her dogmatic manner.