Ordok, a Hobgoblin with a thirst for treasure

Ordok, to most goblin-kind, is a disgrace. He didn't look it, standing at 5'2, skin as red as any, broad shouldered, powerful muscles, dark and wild hair, dressed in furs and leather tied just enough to work. But it wasn't enough to look like his brutish brethren. He had to have the same interests as all of them, the boring bastards. All fight this, kill that, destroy this, mutilate that. Not a chance for him. Rather than obsessing over battle and blood and violence, he obsessed over treasure. Shiny metals, trinkets, jewelry, gems, rare items, things that actually had worth. Not to goblin-kind, though. If he'd been a fraction stupider, his own clan would have killed him, used his skin as leather, and his bones as sex toys or weapons.

Fortunately, he got out with his life, and begged and groveled his way into a refined city. Truly, it wasn't much of an improvement. Everyone hated him, distrusted him, thought he was disgusting or creepy. But he didn't care. They didn't try to kill him for liking loot, so it worked just fine for him.

The real problem with his current life, was his ability in procuring goodies. He didn't have the money to spend on traveling, nor much the ability. What tall-folk he found willing to part with treasures, assumed he had some malevolent intent for it, and refused his business. It was a shit lot in life, that he'd pulled.

Until now, it seems.

He didn't perfectly understand what this magic tome thing did, but he understood this much. He could have people change their minds.

Finally, after his years of toil and suffering, he had the right of ways!

And he knew just where to start.

Ansen's Tavern

New Rule: Ordok pays no fees here

Ordok laughed triumphantly, swaggering up to the counter, where he had payed for his drink upon entering. "Gimme my money back!" He told them with a happy grin. The human raised a brow at him. "Why would I do that?" He asked. Ordok snarled, opening the tome and shoving it in his face. "Cuz I wrote it here! Them's the rules!" He spat, frustrated. The barkeep firmly pushed the book away from his face. "Sure is the rules. But you paid before the rule was made. Ergo, we don't owe you that money." He explained calmly. "Argh, damn you!" The hobgoblin growled, slamming the tome back down to write more.

New Rule: When Ordok gets pissed off, he gets paid by the dumb twit who made him mad!

"There!" Ordok declared, slamming the book shut with finality. "There, what?" The man asked, continuing to polish the glass he'd been cleaning. "I'm. Pissed. Your. Fault." Ordok ground out, his temper reaching it's limit. If this damned thing didn't do him some good, he would do as his brethren would and--

"Ah, that. Of course. Since you mentioned your previous payment for your drink, how about I pay it back? Will that be sufficient?" The man asked reasonably. Ordok brain stuttered for a moment, surprised to get his way. "Yes. Yes. YES!" He exclaimed. With excited disbelief, the hobgoblin watched the man count out the very same coins he had paid with, and return them. "Hahahahahahaha!" He erupted in laughter. He was gonna be king of the world at this rate!

Hopping off the stool, he shoved the coins in his loincloth, and sauntered back to his table. Securing himself in the booth, nursing his free drink, he pondered what next. Normally, he paid for treasures with money. But he liked money, too, so that wouldn't do. What could he pay with instead, that he could always give away?

He thought long. Hard. Strained the muscles to form an idea. One of his coins shifted against his crotch. OF COURSE! Ordok scrambled to open the tome to a new page and grab his charcoal.

NEW RULE: EVERYBODY IS HAPPY TO SELL THEIR VALUABLES FOR MY CUM

"Oi! How much for the necklace?" Ordok wasted no time in calling out to a passing adventurer. The woman rose a brow. "Not for sale, goblin." She dismissed him. "What? Ain't it valuable?" He squawked, befuddled. "Of course it is. Hence why I'm not gonna sell it." She said, before stalking off.

He was dumbfounded. Did he do something wrong? He turned back to the very first page.

Simply put the name of an organization and write your rules for it...

What the fuck counted as an organization?

Well, writing the tavern's name worked for the other ones.

But he wasn't a tavern.

Hmm...

Was the world a tavern? Probably not.

Aha! The Adventurer's Guild was like a tavern! They had people standing behind counters all the time, and the adventurers going around finding goodies in dungeons were like the maids collecting dishes! Yes!

He went back to the page with his newest rule, and paused at the top. "What the fuck is that place called?" He wondered under his breath, thinking of the guild's headquarters. He hadn't a fucking clue. He shrugged. "Fuck it" and put in his best guess at the top.

Adventurer's Guild

Little did the idiotic hobgoblin know, the adventurer's guild did have a proper name that mattered, but the legendary tome had gone ahead and applied his rule to everything that considered itself an adventurer's guild.