As we move down the river, Lysander will play a tune on his lute and sing a song about, what else, floating on a river.

Fenranir was fine with being in a boat. It wasn't a huge boat, which would have been better. Or a really nice luxury boat or something. But at least it wasn't like the boat was tossed about all the time, making him want to hurl. He actually had heard of seasickness but hadn't tested if he was himself yet.

He glanced at the Baron and the faeries as they discussed the forces of chaos and possible things to stave it off. Llamas? He frowned lightly but refrained from comment. He perked up a bit when they discussed the possible 'dangers' that might be ahead. The unknown. Invigorating.

"How far til we get to the area where the...unpredictable...might start to show up?"

Leysa was satisfied at their preparation and the readiness of the fairies. Push coming to shove, she'd happily share her jacket with them. She hesitated a moment when getting on the boat as she briefly recalled being caught in a chaos storm which blew her ashore long ago. Or maybe not so long ago? Still, she sits still as snow while the boat moves and watches the shores creep past.

"It will be good to return again to the wild. I cannot say that I am overly fond of chaos storms or their effects, but I do find comfort in the wilder places. I've a bit of the fey in me as well. In a manner of speaking."

Leysa hummed along to Lysander's song and enjoyed the time as it passed.

Lysander was pleased to see Leysa almost seem content and humming along.  It was nice when she was peaceful and it bode well for the trip ahead.

Between songs, he said to her,

We've travelled far together on someone else's task,
but after all this travel, there's something I would ask,
In your life do you feel you made the time for others?
Have you looked at friendships or being someone's mother?

Leysa blinked at Lysander's question. An idle finger reached up to scratch at her chin for a minute then she shrugged, "I am doing what I want to be doing. I have friends. Any desire for family is a distant, unformed thing." She reclined again and now seemed lost in thought as she stared at the horizon.

He smiles, but there is confusion on his face.

Though a city boy at heart, Daladain was quite enjoying the wilds. Cities had a certain order, a structure, no matter where they were. But the wilds were free, they had their own rules and didn’t care about human regulation. Chaos live free here...

"If I knew where the unpredictable would show up it would be predictable, in a way, wouldn't it?" Baron Arbov says.

The boat is handled by a trio of experienced boatmen, used to the coast of Sanzi and the Breaks.  Although few people ever come up this river, they have, before, and they know it as well as anyone can.

"It isn't a clear cut line," the eldest of them says.  "The area of the Chaos Storms just kind of tapers off from more, to less, to very few.  I suppose you could mark a line at 'none at all' but then, how we do know it's just so infrequent that no one has seen it yet?  I've seen it hit Sanzi itself hard a few times.  There was the storm of 'thirty two.  Brought the biggest swarm of muskrats anyone has ever seen, and in colors that muskrats don't normally appear in."

"Blue?"  Petunia asks experimentally.

"Among others, bright sky blue," the boatman says.

"Goodness, what happened to them all?"

"You know Dwarves.  They had most of them skinned and they sold off the fur as exotic magical rabbit."

****

They float on.  Meadows, forest, hills... getting hillier all the time, and at times it's hard pushing to get the boat past a swift spot.

And then there is motion, to the right of the boat:  A single Goblin, with a peculiar garish helmet featuring a bright red winged point on the top.  He is running towards the boat, shouting.

"Stop!  Forbidden!  Our river!  Not yours!"

Fen rolled his eyes discreetly. He'd been asking for more like an estimation or at least some idea of how far away it might be, but the answer he got unfortunately depressing and annoying. He shrugged it off and didn't follow up on it. No sense in ruffling feathers.

Others talked and the boat moved on, until....a goblin appeared and yelled at them. He reached for his weapons but then glanced at the Baron. "How are you wanting to have this handled?"

The Baron is not happy to hear a Goblin laying claim to territory that clearly belongs to the kingdom of Montebon.   Of course, no one ever bothered to negotiate borders with the scattered tribes of Goblins and others that are scattered across the wilderness.  Just the other civilized states.  So perhaps some confusion is understandable.

"We are in the kingdom of Montebon!"  the Baron shouts back.

"Disreputable beasts, Goblins," Tarhoobn says quietly.  "But this far east?"

Goblin math is not very abstract.  They tend to evaluate things on a purely practical scale.  Thus, the Goblin does not see five or seven or eight party members.  The Goblin sees Too Many party members.  It might be ready for a fight, but not ready to lose a fight.  That's a different thing.

The Goblin comes to a stop.  "You will be defeated," it says.

"I don't think so," the Baron says.

"Not now.  But you will." the Goblin says.

Daladain stepped forward with his hand raised. He addressed the goblin directly. “Excuse me, sorry to disturb, I’m a stranger in these lands. You say that you claim these lands. Who, if you don’t mind me asking, is you? Do you belong to a particular tribe or settlement or suchlike?”

He looked around carefully to see if the goblin had companions hidden away. “Or is you simply... you?”

Leysa was snapped from her reverie by the manic shouting. She regarded the brightly hatted goblin askance then shrugged and listened as the exchange moved forward.

Fenranir thought about joining in the on the shouted conversation but decided against it. There were already several voices involved and 'too many cooks' as the saying sort of went. He kept his eyes peeled as he scanned around, both on shore and, after a moment, away from it as well just to be safe.

19:49, Today: Fenranir rolled 21 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

Lysander was almost gleeful about the exchange.

The Goblin does not feel like sticking around to answer questions.  He is only one* and the party is many.  Having only just emerged from the woods to harangue the party, he is back into it at the first sign of "damn, they're not buying it."

The Dwarven baron looks to the Elf for what he sees in the forest, as the stories of Elven perception in forests are well known.

"Anything?"


" I think we scared him!" Petunia says, proud of the role she imagines herself playing in that scaring.

"Goblins are never just one, though," Firefern says.

"If there are no others about I would just as well continue the mission.  Perhaps he was bluffing trying to get a bribe out of us," Baron Arbov says.  "Goblins are a nuisance, but one.. or even a dozen... I do not fear that."


*Ogres are very different in their thinking about this.  Where a Goblin would think "I am just one" and then mentally figure the odds, an Ogre would think "I am just one and they are..."  and then realize that counting makes his head hurt, and that's not fair, so he should hit these people who made him count.  Ogre math is simple:  the correct answer to any problem is exactly what the strongest, toughest, meanest Ogre (or on rare occasion, non-Ogre) present says it is, no more and no less.

Fenranir watched the goblin retreat and scanned slowly around. He glanced at the baron and then shook his head. "For the moment....there was just the one that I saw." He gave a little shrug. "Not to say there aren't more, just that I don't see them. Yet."

"Well, be there one, or be there many
are there really suppose to be any?
Maybe we should stop and give it chase?
Or do you think we cannot keep pace?"

Leysa regarded the creature as it scampered back into the woods then shrugged, "I don't begrudge it existence. Neither will I seek to deprive it of that existence for things it may have done we know nothing of or things it might do hereafter." She relaxed back into her spot to contemplate the river as they continued on.

Daladain shrugged as the goblin fled. “I say we continue on our journey, though we should be extra vigilant as he may return with friends.”

They continue the journey into the late afternoon.  Perhaps they could go longer, but there would be little point to boating at night, and besides, getting the boat upstream is hard work.  The sun still has a few hours left when the boatmen are tired.

Besides, this is a good point to stop, the Baron points out.

A natural rock weir interrupts the flow of the river, a ridge of basalt that many years of current has yet to wear down.  But the water flows easily through the large cut in the middle of it.  One does not have to be a Dwarf to suspect that the cut in the rock, easily big enough to allow Arbov's boat to pass, is not a natural feature, even though everything else certainly is.

The boatmen share in the belief that this is an artificial feature.

"The question is, where did the boats go, that once upon a time," one of the boatmen asks.  "You wouldn't cut a channel like that unless you were going somewhere, regular.  If it was a one time thing you'd just drag the boat over and save a lot of work."

"That's what I've come to believe," Arbov says.  "There is something up this river that is lost.  We are to find it."

"We're not here for any danger, I remind you," the leader of the boat crew says.

"That is true.  I will not bring you into that."

"There's already Goblins."

"One Goblin was all we saw," Arbov says.  "A nuisance.  If there are more.. well, they are miles behind us now.  Let us make a fire.  We'll have a good camp, and post watch... there just may be more Goblins about."

Daladain watched the shoreline as the boat worked its way upstream, keeping an eye for any sign of goblins as well as any other curiosities. He had little experience of boats, his first voyage had been the one across the sea where he had spent much of the time failing to keep down his lunch. The river was different, a smoother surface but with a jerky movement caused by the rowers. After a while he got used to it, but still preferred solid ground under his feet.

When they stopped he quickly hopped off, and helped as best he could, but after a stern look from one of the crew he decided that he was better off out of their way. He wandered away from the landing site and looked around, wondering what oddities they might spy next.

Fenranir found the rock with the boat-niche interesting. Not enough to consider for too long, but still, it raised some questions as the others pointed out. And he noted the Baron didn't point out that he brought adventurers along in case there WAS actually danger, but it was certainly right there for the noticing.

He got out of the boat and walked just a few feet away and gave a big full-body stretch, twisting this way and that a bit even to work out the kinks.

Then he said, "I'll take first watch."

"I will stand the last watch, prepared to give a warning,
And should it all be quiet, I will wake you in the morning."

Leysa had been lost in thought all that afternoon. Thoughts of goblins and stone features were far from her mind. Still, as they made for shore and the prospect of rest, she understood how much tension had built in her body from being so still in the boat all day. As such, while camp was built, she took time to stretch and walk about to work the fatigue and stiffness from her muscles and joints. Once finished, she sat quietly near the fire and nodded to Fenranir, "I'll join you on first watch then. Hmm, Daladain, could you take the second?" She then looked to Arbov and the boatmen and smiled, "Get your rest, sirs. You worked hard to bring us this far and deserve it. Besides, dwarves need all the beauty rest they can get." She cracks a grin at her jest and then turns her back to the fire to stare into the dark woods.

Daladain nodded, he was happy to take his turn in the watch cycle. For now he new that he needed to get some rest in order to be ready for his session, so he quickly set about sorting his billet. Once he had eaten he retired for the night.