(CYOA) The Caves of Grothnar, Pt.3

"'Wait, seriously? Your shamans - '

'Clerics. We call them clerics.'

'Whatever. They get to use this!?' The shortstack goblin hefts her new morning star. The heavy metal weapon is easily half her height, but her excitement overrides any difficulties with the weight.

'Yep. No swords though, something about not spilling blood.' you explain, still digging through the bag of holding for more spare gear. 'Just a second, I swear we've got some extra clothes in here. We use to have a gnome cleric, and, uh... Well, don't worry about it. Point is, I'm pretty sure we still have her clothes.'

'God, your gods must fucking rock if they let you brain people with these!' She swings the mace around experimentally. The weight of the thing drags her around with it, and her swinging tits might prove to be the more dangerous part of the whole equation. 'Yeah, I definitely want to be a cleric!'

'Uh boss?' One of your troupe taps you on the shoulder.

'Yeah?'

'Does it really work like that? Can you just... decide to be a cleric? My priest made it sound like a really big deal. He went to school, there was a ceremony.'

'I'm sure the gods know what they're doing. Goblin, you're true of heart, right?'

'Uh, sure?'

'Great. That's pretty much all it takes.' You pull your hand out of the bag, pulling out a tiny cloth tong. 'Riiiigh. I forgot we made her wear this. Here, put it on.' You chuck the tiny piece of clothing to your new party member.

The goblin doesn't seem bothered by her nudity, but she puts on the underwear anyways. You keep digging, and soon enough you've found the gnome sized set of robes you were looking for. The goblin ties up her hair and pulls it all on, yanking on the fabric to make it fit over her massive tits.

'Right, I think I'm ready. It's time for my vows, right?'

'Vows?'

The goblin leans against her mace and nods, still trying to stuff her breasts into the too-small clothing.

'Yeah. Clerics gotta' take a vow of celer... cela... a vow of no fucking, right?'

'Celibacy. And no, our clerics don't do that.'

She woops in excitement, throwing her hands into the air. 'Woo! Thank the fucking gods! '

A flash of brilliant light fills the cavern. In a split second it's gone, leaving behind a warm, fuzzy feeling in the back of your brain.

'Hey, look at that. Seems like they've accepted your application. Welcome to the party, uh... do you have a name?'

The goblin shrugs. 'Most of the clan called me "Hey you" or "Oi fucknuggget", but I don't think those are real names.

'Boss, we could call her-'

'We aren't calling her Fucknugget.'

'Right boss. 'Course not. Wouldn't even suggest it.'

You scratch your chin and think it over. 'The first thing you yelled at us was Yark-something. We'll call you Yark.'

'Yark? Yeah, I like it! Yark the Cleric!' She swings her mace around in excitement, smashing off a chunk of rock in the process. The rest of the party takes a cautious step back.

'Good. Now let's get moving. We've still got a chance to catch Grothnar if we move fast. Yark, you don't mind we're going to kill your dad, do you?'

'Na, fuck him. I got a new clan now!'

'That's a little fucked up but I like the positivity. Onwards boys, we've got a bounty to claim!'"

***

The party travels onwards, hot on the trail of Grothnar the Goblin Warlord! What happens next?