1: Dovedale

"If he's the kind of guy that gets missed, then they have already notice anyway." she replies. "Goblins tend to be nocturnal".

And thinking back to their earlier discussions, she ads "And weren't you the one that said it was too dark for most of our group to do anything at night in the first place?"

The goblin's head darts back and forth as the group discussed their plans right beside him. Underneath his rudimentary disguise is a tattered scale tunic, and a short sword seems to be tucked halfway into his pants to stay hidden. He also wears a cheaply crafted necklace of various rocks and feathers, likely a symbol of his tribe. The emblem means nothing to you, as goblin tribes are a silver a dozen.

"To be fair, if they come looking for Grabbo it would save us the trouble of looking for them," says Malard. "I'm in favor of exposing the fraud and asking questions when it's more convenient, like Jabrano."

"Thank you." she replies sincerely, relieved that somebody backs her up.

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The goblin seems taken with Oren's words... and the prospect of not ending up in a pie. "I'll take you to the hideout! I'll take you anywhere, just don't eat Grabbo! I'm all dirty and stinky and would taste so so so bad!"

Oren smiles at the little greenie,

"Seems like we have an accord then! And don't worry, I'm a vegetarian."

Grabbo's face makes it clear he has no idea what a 'vegetarian' is.

I say put him in a sack, and leave him bound. Lock him in a closet while we get some rest.

"Yes, that was me. But you did you hear me argue that we ought to hold a goblin of unknown importance captive all night? No doubt he’s told his tribe of his exploits, and they’d know where to come looking for him. That is, if he is of may importance to them."

Odilo approaches and stoops down to look over the goblin in the dark.

"Tell us Grabbo, who is so quick to sell out his tribe, who are you?"

"I'm not carrying him. He can walk. Do you even have a sack?"

Jabrano puts herself between Grabbo and the wizard.
"Well, what else were you planning to do after we'd captured him? Let him go so he can tell his people all about us? Just plain murder him for stealing pies?" She's practically shouting at him now.

She takes a deep breath and forces herself to calm down and looks around to see if they have attracted any attention from local wildlife or other dangers.

"We're too exposed here and you don't even know if he's alone."

The goblin nervously looks back and forth between all his captors, his eyes landing pleadingly on Oren from time to time. When Odilo asks him a question, he responds with, "I am Grabbo! I'm not selling my tribe, just offered to take you to them! You can't have them. And if you fight them, they'll kill you like that!" It's easy to imagine the goblin snapping his fingers at the last comment, but, alas, he is all tied up.

"It's probably assured we'd be no match for your tribe," Malard says, trying to sound friendly. "However, we're a bit concerned that you're here stealing food. Your tribe probably misses you Grabbo, don't they?"

"They don't even know I'm gone! Grabbo is really, really sneaky," the goblin says proudly. Given his knack for disguise, this isn't necessarily untrue.

Since we can find the tribe soon enough; and, we know that this one is not capable of damming a river on its own, I say we kill it. It is a creature of chaos, inherently evil, whose sole purpose is to steal, sneak about in the darkness and murder the innocent.
Maon is stoic and unmoving, though he speaks intensely and barely above a whisper.

Trina is appalled at the notion of killing the goblin. Yes, it was a thief, but that was certainly no reason to cost one's life. They had seen no evidence that the creature had murdered anyone, or indeed, committed any crime beyond stealing a pie here or there. "Always remember those less fortunate than yourself." Trina's father had told her. It was a code by which she lived. Sure, she was a thief herself, but she never took from those who could not afford it and always gave a share to charity (anonymously, of course). Maybe the goblin was in need, but even if that wasn't the case, killing it for crimes that it may not have committed was wrong!

"I think that we should have it lead us to its fellows. This little one is hardly enough to have caused all the trouble itself."

"Are you out of your godsdamned mind?" Jabrano demands of the Druid. "We're not killing anybody here. Not over some stolen pies."

It seems evident that the warrior is quite willing to back her words with steel if pushed.

"What's wrong with you anyway? You sound more like some fanatic Raevian war priest than a druid. Have you forgotten that the village has lived in peaceful coexistence with these "murderous agents of chaos" for ages without incident? What do you think is going to happen to that peace once the goblins find out some lunatic killed one of their people over a stolen pie?"

Oren puts a hand on Jabrano's shoulder to calm the warrior,

"Let us not forget ourselves,"

and with a stern look to Maon he adds,

"Any of us. This little thief has broken several of the king's laws and besides that is now a valuable asset. We will keep him alive and unharmed and in the morning he will take us to his people. We should keep watch over him tonight, I will take the lion's share of the chore if you want to relieve me before dawn Jabby?"

"Kill it?" Malard says. "Do we suddenly not like clues and information? That kind of violence has it's place, but this isn't the palace's dungeon. "

"You keep interesting company, Oren." the wizard says, shooing away the warrior as she becomes belligerent.

He similarly waves a hand to calm the Druid as he suggests killing the goblin.

"Grabbo." the wizard says, with attempted friendliness, though his head started to ache with the annoyance of the whole ordeal.

"The pies aren’t of any concern to us." he casts an eye back to the half-orc, wondering if she remembers why they are here.

"It’s the river, and it’s impact on the people below. What can you tell us about that?"