Desna be praised! He's finally fallen asleep. Now I like wine, I know wine, gods, I SELL wine! But that man could turn the most ardent Magnimarian wine conossieur into a dedicated mead drinker. Needless to say, he's insufferable, but I think I humored him well enough that he may give the family some custom- by Cayden Cailean we could use it after what happened in Magnimar. Father isn't going to like it, but I think we'll just have to pull out of the market there; it is too dangerous for us, with what limited resources we have at hand. The Magnimarian houses could probably field a small army if they wanted to- we can manage what, a small handful of guards? Anyway, back to the wagon ride.
So beside the chattering fool, my other companions was a happy meeting of circumstances if ever there was one! Four familiar faces from the Rusty Dragon, all travelling back to Sandpoint together- it makes the long journey all the easier, even if I'm the only one game to talk to our sixth wheel. But it was good, catching up with others and learning about what they've seen and where they've been- although privately, it is a little cramped in here, but at least I'm not wedged between the half-orcs. An odd pair they are, without doubt!
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So I was drowsing by the time we were getting near Sandpoint- and I dare say that I wasn't the only one. Then came the boom and then the shuddering crash that ran through the whole wagon- I call it a wagon, because it certainly doesn't merit a title like 'carriage'. I digress, as usual! We'd ground to a stop, the darkness outside was pitch and I could hear the weirdest of sounds. Some of my companions- brave souls they are!- were out in an instant to investigate, and I followed but stopped to call Chimalli from the plane where he lives. (I'd sent him away. His presence invites unwelcome questions at times, and besides, once people realise he is intelligent and can speak, they probably would have charged me an extra fare!)
It was the most unusual thing; the driver and his man were both impaled through on the same spear and pinned to a tree. It was clear that there would be no saving them- no, the priority was making sure that we wouldn't be joining them. But that wasn't the unusual thing; no, that belonged to the sputtering thing tied to the spear (and I use that term as loosely as I used carriage before).
Chimalli was with me now, his feathers and scales glinting coolly in the dark of night, and I sent him up and out to scout out the area, while my silent companion did the same from the ground. It didn't take long before the 'launching platform' was found, as well as the dead goblin that we realised was responsible for it- and then knifed for his smarts. A sad race they are; animal cunning tied to the morals of a toddling child- and they cut out those that sway from that. Who knows what heights such a one could reach; if he can read his mind is more open to seeing things in other way. I'm a dreamer and I know it!
I knew soon enough that we were on the edge of Brinestump Marsh; a soggy pit along the coast by Sog's Bay and only a few miles out from Sandpoint itself. It was always known that there were goblins here; but if they've started attacking travelers, they need to be tracked down. Even if we can't deal with them, at the very least, we can lead others to their camp- although Desna seems to have wrapped fate this night, to bring such a capable group together.
Myself, I was hardly ready for a slog through the swamp, and suggested we head for the lit house Chimalli had seen- there was a local living there friendly to Sandpoint. If anyone knew the area, it would be him. Still, the others were eager to press on before the goblins got too far, and I have to admit there was a point in that. So, slogging it was after all.
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Sound travels differently in a swamp, I knew that well enough- although this was my first firsthand experience with it. But when the fog rolled in, it was difficult to tell what was out there and more to the point, exactly where it was coming from. At one point, I swear it on my soul, I was sure I saw something out there, a human figure but twisted beyond recognition. Someone said that it could be the swamp-beast- but that is just local myth and rumor- surely?
Who knows how long it was- it can't have been that long, the Marsh isn't that big, although the pathways (another loose term!) are thin and twisted. But soon, we came to a battered palisade; the walls empty of guards and the doors in flimsy shape. It was soon obvious that someone had been there before us; the corpses of the goblins we'd been tracking were laid out, peppered with arrows. More, a muddy pit lay before the gates, and strewn all around was mouldering clothing of the sort that I associated with Ameiko and her family. An unexpected sight to be sure. Beyond the gates, a pit was dug with the charcoal remains of more goblin corpses, and the remaining 'residents' were huddled away in their rude ruts. We could hear them; I sent Chimalli to fly in and get closer so that we could hear more.
It was difficult to put together, the language a guttural pidgin; but it was clear they were talking about skeletons attacking them and stealing some form of treasure. Could it be something they stole from Ameiko? Regardless, goblins this close to home needed to be dealt with- and skeletons, walking skeletons was an even more worrying thought. Some of my companions had glinting eyes at the mention of the treasure, but all I could think of was the thought of one or the other creeping into Sandpoint where my family was; my father, my mother and my little brothers.
That was when we noticed; one of our companions had sidled past the mudpit and was setting to with oil and fire on one of the huts. Did she realise how many goblins there were?
That would be a definite no lol
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