Norwick's envoys and the goblins of the West Rawlins
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Harmony speaks in a soft tone, loud enough for her group to hear, incomprehensible for the goblin council to hear.
"It would be best it seems Wren, now be the best time for self-introductions.
Mayhaps Wren, you could assist us in introducing each of us present on our behalf, with the tongue of the goblin?
As far as the introduction goes, I would propose that when it comes to introducing Ragnhild, she would be done last, with the tone of yours changed into a respectful kind compared to introducing the rest of us. We will all follow the respectful gesture you make.
For Ragnhild it seems, is a daughter of a very highly respected tribe chief in this council we see."
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Sqee turns around and motions to the armored goblins and begins to head off into the depths of the woods. Two mailed goblins march in front of Sqee, two behind. Their armor is of exceptional make and well kept unlike typical goblin gear. An observant eye might catch the insignia of the Union stamped on their gear. A handful of lesser goblins approach Sqee and have hushed words with him only to then go running off deeper into the woods.
Sqee: Stay close and keep to the path we walk. No one will bother you as long as you stay with me, should you wander I will not protect you.
For hours the goblins march and quite frequently a band of goblins will approach eager for blood only to shy away seeing Sqee. After what seems like an all day march without rest or food the sun begins to set and the woods begin to darken. Sqee heads towards what appears to be an impenetrable thicket and as the first set of guards approach it a doorway in the thicket opens to reveal a short passage thru the brambles clear of thorns though only goblin height. The sounds of goblins cheering, fighting and whatnot can be heard ahead. The passage fills with the smell of earth, burning wood, cooking meat and unwashed goblins. At the end of the passage a warm glow can be seen.
After 30 ft of walking (crawling for some) the passage opens up to a domed room the walls made of seemingly solid trees and brambles. The trees arch upwards then across the clearing not quite touching leaving an oculus to the night sky. The floor is bare earth, in the center lies a large bon fire some 30 ft across though still not big enough to illuminate the whole room leaving the edges in darkness. Arraigned around the fire is a series of spits laden with game being tended to by goblins in blue livery. As you enter the chamber the room goes suddenly silent of goblin sounds though more then a few blades can be heard clearing their scabbards. Two mailed guards stand at either side of the tunnel as Sqee walks towards the fire. As your eyes adjust to the flickering light it is quite apparent that the outer edges of the room are filled with goblins from at least a dozen tribes by the hanging totems. By each totem a stone big for one person rests. On all but one stone a goblin sits eyeing the newcomers with dozens of armored and robed goblins behind them. The only sitting goblins seems to be those on the stones. The one empty place hangs a standard with a fang dipped in blood. By this spot rests a small cask and silver goblet.
By now Sqee reaches the fire and seemingly walks into and up the bon fire to stand at the very summit seemingly unperturbed by the flames. A quick eye will note a narrow path lined with stones up the bonfire leading to a large stone at the top. The room then fills with the screeches and yelling of very angry goblins. Sqee raises his right hand and the screaming stops.
Sqee: <gob>The Bloody Feather tribe has called a council. As long as they do no harm they are protected as any other tribe gathered here. :: Sqee locks his gaze on each seated goblin then moves to the next then looks towards the party gathered at the tunnel entrance.::
The blue liveried goblins return to their work periodically turning, basting, or cutting a hunk of meat off and brining it over to the nearest seated goblin.</gob>
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looks between Ragnhild and Wren
I'm completely out of my element here. I won't cast anything or draw my weapon unless either of you give word.
nods to both, carefully watching the goblins
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Ragnhild returns Sqee's smile with a touch of pride, touching her fist to her chest in formal greeting. As the party prepares to follow, she notes in a quiet tone to the others:
"I have been recognized as daughter of chieftain, which is morr than could have hoped for. Such status vill give opportunity for talk, but also responsibiliti. I vill not shame my father vith ill behaviour, and I trust you vill not do so either. I ask you all to follow customs, even iff they may seem strange. I not ask you to trust, but remember that they too have rules of conduct to follow, same as us."
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Harmony nods gently in return to Wren and proceeds to trails on behind Wren while at the same time, urging everyone else present to follow on.
"I had heard of a goblin by name of Sqee who was once one of Norwick. However I was led to believe he was slained in the invasion.
It is also interesting to know, that he be aware of Ragnhild's status and sees upon her in light with prestige, as a chieftain's daughter. Mayhaps Ragnhild, when the time comes, your words be worth more weight than ours can give in the exchange.
At the meantime, let us abide to their words to show one's respect and restrain oneself from aggression. However we must be prepared for the worst as well, thus I remind all to maintain one's vigilance."
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Belin finishes an ale looking over the green skin. She belches in true dwarven fashion such that some of the smaller and weanier goblins might be startled. Smacking her lips a few times she tucks the ale away and rubs her belly region.
That was un good un.
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Wren's eyes widen a fraction, then narrow, as she examines the robed goblin thoughtfully for signs of the Sqee she knew, mentally adding in several years and a good deal of sartorial splendor. Her hand stays clamped on the hilt of her undrawn saber.
<common>"Hello, Sqee. It's been a while. You're looking well, considering. Thanks for the invitation, and yeah, we'll keep the warnings in mind. We didn't come to start trouble, though any does start, we'll finish it." She shrugs. "But only a fool fights in a burning house, and that describes the Rawlinswood at the moment. Lead on."
She glances briefly to Harmony for confirmation, then says in goblin:
<goblin>"We follow One Who Talks to meet the chiefs. Make plans with them to kill other. Any trickery, we kill everyone and leave. We are watching."</goblin></common>
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The assembled goblins eye the party warily. One particular ferocious looking goblin in studded leather armor obviously from a larger creature grabs a nearby smaller goblin whispers something in his ear and the smaller goblin runs deeper in to the woods. The ferocious goblin then takes a few step towards the party eying the woods on either side before addressing the party.
<gob>"We no kill you now, maybe later. We wait now. One with many words comes. Maybe kill you then."
With that the goblin beckons several smaller goblins over and whispers snips at them causing them to scurry off only later to come back with some dead animal and a gourd. The goblin waits and watches the part while it eats the raw meet and drinking from the gourd. A dozen other goblins mill about making sure the ferocious goblin is between them and the party. Other then the orders given, the goblins seem uncharacteristically subdued and quiet.
Some hours later a group of five goblins arrive, four in mail and shields seemingly guarding the fifth goblin dressed in an expensive elven robe cut to goblin size bearing many rings and earrings. The robed goblin motions the armored goblins to either side of him and looks at the leathered goblin. The leathered goblin drops into a praying position with his forehead on the ground not looking up at the robed goblin.
Leathered goblin: <gob>Them want kill others. Want talk to chiefs. Want us kill them now?
Hearing the leathered goblin's words the mailed goblins tighten their grips on their weapons and wait. The robed goblin seems to mull the words for a moment then looks at the party as he reaches a hand into the left sleeve of the robe.
Robed Goblin: :: smiles:: <com>I am Sqee. :: narrows his eyes:: You wish to parlay with your enemies and I am intrigued. :: looks to Rag and smiles. You wish to meet the chiefs? Very well, normally such a request would not be heeded but a chieftains daughter request regardless of their background should be heard. I will take you to a meeting place and summon those that wish to meet. I warn you. Your kind is not well liked here with good reason. Keep your weapons close, if you draw them it may be considered an act of aggression, you cast a spell, no matter how benign, it will be on your heads. Understood?</com></gob></gob>
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Belin doesn't so much loom as hulks in a compact dwarven fashion. She seems to be in a fine mood in her lavender, blue and grey armor. Her shield and battle axe, highly polished, are loosened, but not in hand. She is keeping her deep brown almost black eyes sharply focused on their surroundings like a stall vendor in an open air market looks after their goods from shifty hands. However, she appears to be picking her teeth with a sharpened bone of hopefully an animal, but it might have been a goblin finger once, likely just a rat leg… maybe
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Elyl stands just to the right of Ragnhild and is staggered a couple of steps back. Shield on arm, but not in the ready postion. The other hand resting on his belt in front of his sheathed sword hilt. His eyes sweeping the area.
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_Mistaking the word 'looming' for 'brooding' which Celebring does so well, he nonetheless stands to the left of Ragnhild, hands placed neatly before him and clasped together. He is expressionless, ageless, and if eyes are indeed a window to the soul, this one is cold and dead inside.
A beautiful and ornate looking Elven Longsword is sheathed at his side that he makes no move to draw at this time. Instead he just watches the Goblins, nearly unblinking, with those cold, dead eyes._
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Ragnhild takes up position about ten paces behind Wren, slightly to the dwarven interpreters left. The barbarian womans muscular frame and proud posture make her a natural in the art of looming, and though her spear is placed peacefully into the ground, there is nonetheless a calm, quiet menace about her. The goblin charm and feathers flutter in the light breeze as the group waits for a response from the greenskins.
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Wren nods agreeably to Harmony.
"Rightcha are ma'am. Just drift along to my rear, looming…. but not like you're TRYING to be menacing.... loom casual."
Wren advances slowly towards the goblins, one hand on weapon, but not drawing, looking completely unconcerned.
<goblin>"I see you but do not intend to kill you today, greetings! We wish to discuss how to kill other people and take their things, you and us. We are powerful allies and together we can kill many enemies and capture many shinies. In particular, the ones who would drive you from your homes. We would speak with your chiefs about this."
Over her shoulder:
"I'm addressing them in Low Goblin until I get a grasp for their dialect and level of sophistication… some of the Rawlinswood tribes can almost write poetry, and some can barely say, 'Grr, me kill'."</goblin>
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_The Elven Wizard Celebring sets up a small ritual circle away from the rest of the envoy. Kneeling within the center of thin wooden slats, all marked with strange symbols that seem to flow from one piece to the other. Throughout the night he remains in that circle, either in deep focus or reverie before the task ahead. He finally rises in the early hours of dawn to compose himself, gathering up the runed slats and putting them away into his satchel and eventually meeting up with the others.
He listens to Harmony's instructions and nods to her his understanding._
_"As you wish."
He says to acknowledge her, before turning to Belin as she speaks, then to Ragnhild, taking an interest in her story. From Wren he notes her insight to the mind of the Goblin. But has so far maintained silence._
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Harmony nods gently to Wren's words, though a frown she wears upon her face.
"The difference of mindset will take time for I to accustom.
Considering Wren you be, one with more familiarity to the goblin's mindset and culture, it would be best you choose and speak the words on behalf of us what you think it may be best.
Though if we are to show strength in order to earn their respect, so be it. If killings are to be made…
Harmonys closes her eyes, letting out adeep sigh as she struggles to say the remaining words.
…there is no need to let them suffer in their passings.
As all had already listened to Ragnhild's tale, I believe you may understand the intention of mine of why I choose the destination."
Ahead of them, a group of small sized goblins making 'chika-chika' sounds are seen from a distance of the group.
"There we see a small group of goblins ahead Wren. Let us make the first attempt upon them with you taking the lead while the rest of us, following at your will."
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Wren strokes the hilt of her saber as they set off.
"I'll do my best to get your words and meaning across right, but it'll help if everyone has the right mindset…. how to explain...
"Goblins are a bit like orcs in that they respect strength. Well, respect isn't the word... and not strength as in 'Ooo, big muscles'. What is basic to your goblin's notion of diplomacy is, 'Can me and my mates kill these people?' If the answer is an empthatic yes, they're unlikely to talk with us. And if it's a definite no, they're likely to try and run, or go all cornered-rat on us. The best stance for goblin negotiation is 'Maybe we can, maybe we can't.'
"I don't think it'll make that big a deal if you kill a few, as long as they aren't chiefs and as long as it isn't during the actual negotiations.
"It goes without saying, of course, not to trust em as far as Belin can throw a bottlecap."
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Elyl rubs his eyes, looking out at the pre-dawn landscape and puffing his pipe
*with a grin says *Hells… Harmony, I haven’t been awake and out here at this time of the morning since my training with the Colonel. You aren’t going to give me a 200lb. log and tell me to run up and down the hills, while whacking my legs with your staff are you…
- chuckles and then takes a serious tone* I’ve packed up plenty of healing supplies for our trip and plenty of gobo gook for our hopefully new “friends”. I have prayed for multiple hold spells and I have 10 tanglefoot bags to help any encounters that may be misinterpreted. I suggest that every one take at least one. I will do my best to use nonlethal tools and magic against them and assist in necessary healing. I was thinking as well… would it help to bring a couple of quality weapons or armor to offer as a sign of good faith, assuming we manage to actually converse with them in a non-hostile manner. * shrugs and puffs his pipe * Just a thought.
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Ragnhild listens carefully to Harmony's instructions, giving each member of the expedition a warm smile. She gives the map of the Rawlins little heed, instead taking the time to secure an intricate goblin charm around a fine mithril spear. The warrioress' golden curls are tied back with a leather cord, the ends of which are decorated by a white feather. A deep red colour coats the feather's tip and edges, giving it the appeance of a bloodied fang. As the sun rises and the group heads off, Ragnhild begins explaining her involvement with the goblin tribe mentioned.
"Some of you know and some do not, that I be adopted into tribe known as Bloody Tooth tribe, lead by gobbalin chieftain called Grahk. I befrend Grahk vhile live in Norvikk, manni years ago now. We fajt honourabel duel vhen firrst meet, and later we tri strenght against each other in wrestel and race, before share hunt, ale and laughter. In time of sorrow, he adopt me as daughter and later perform ritual of marriage for me and Zoma in traditional gobbalin style. Charm that hang around speer be gifft from Grahk, as are the gold bracers I vear, vhile feathers be of my own making, to symbolize Bloody Tooth Tribe.
Grahk be strong, honourabel gobbalin. He and tribe have shown me both kindness and hospitaliti, but that not same as say all gobbalin tribes vould show same, anni morr than human tribes vould welcome strangers into homelands. A strong ally he vould make, father mine, but for one thing: Grahk and all of Bloody Tooth Tribe have all been slain or driven from their lands by unknown foe, some years ago. I myself have buried gobbalin young and old, and sung for them the rites of passage to realms beyond. The attack vhas most brutal.. but Grahk be not among the fallen. Vine and Zoma lern that small party had survived, found signs of later struggel deeper in forrest, but there clues end. No sound or sign be found after that. Vho attackers were is still not known."
A cold rage burns in Ragnhild's eyes as she describes the fate of her tribe, knuckles whitening as her hand clenches the spear harder.
"We no kan count on fact that Grahk still live, or that we be able find him. I kan not let heart have high hopes, but if Harmoni think it worth a try, I vill lead way to old camp."
//preferably we can schedule any events ig for weekends, as the time zone difference makes it near impossible to meet up otherwise.
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Belin squints at Harmony as she finishes drinking her breakfast ale and eating her turkey leg. A dwarven belch as she finishes indicating that it was a good meal.
Oy lass, meh realize yuh nay knows meh well so meh gonna tell ya now nice like. Meh un priest o' da dwarven father aye. Meh good at flankin things, but nay goods at pullin meh swings when flankin. Meh norm beh tuh hamstring un foe or if'n meh can reach it, ta take out der kidney.
she makes a back stabby motion
Meh say this 'cause meh sometime lethal when meh nay mean tuh beh und meh nay strong enough tuh bring back summon meh felled.
smooths out her meager chin hairs and nods to Ragnhild and the others
