1: Dovedale

"Told you it was some kind of fairy nonsense..." Jabrano said. The Half-Orc had been in much better spirits since they left the farm behind them.
"Is this... normal? A whole river just shut down because of one fairy? What if she gets ill or has an accident? Bye bye river?" she asks, only half seriously. "All kidding aside, that's not good, assuming this information is correct."

She turns towards Grabbo, who still wears the hat she borrowed him: "So... let's say we want to convince chief Gravelbeak to give up his prisoner, how'd we best go about that?"

Trina fairly dances about at the news of the captured fairy. "I knew it!" she proclaims gleefully. Then, realizing that her enthusiasm might be mistaken for joy at the fairy's capture, she suddenly stops, becoming somber. "Not good that she was captured, but I thought that might be what was going on around here!" she explains.

Odilo brings a heavy brown sleeve up to dry his face and beard, before grumbling something about trout hospitality. He’s more than a little shocked to see that there was, in fact, a speaking trout here. Not so much that such a creature exists, but rather that village rumored had turned out to be true in this case…

"We’ve been quite wrapped up in what to do about these goblins. Are they to be parlayed with? Or expelled by force? You’d know better than most!"

The whole story from the talking fish has Malard shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't know know what bothers me more, the three stone giants, or that the goblins are eating a tree. Who ever heard of such a thing?" he says to the others. "The relaxing sojourn has taken a dangerous turn if what our fishy informant says is true. Grabbo, is this the only way up the river?"

The talking trout locks eyes with Odilo as the mage asks it of goblin-handling methods. If a fish could shrug, you suspect that's what Salvel would be doing about now. "These goblins are clever. Rather clever, much like many around the area. Not sure why the Dovedale is so special in this way, but that's the way it is. I would be careful with the goblins, both in word and action. They are wise enough to parley with the town and farmers, and strong enough that other tribes have not moved in. You may have luck trading this goblin for Unda, but that depends on how favored this one is."

---

The goblin hides behind Jabrano as Malard questions it. The new friendship with the half-orc had allowed him to open up some, but he seemed to be more attached to the warrior than to any other. He replies with a squeaky voice, "The tree makes us feel better. And we can go upriver on either side. Either one is fine."

Jabrano shrugs. "It sort of makes sense about he willow. Used to know a guy who swore by this foul tea he made from ground-up willow bark as a hangover cure. And he was kind of an expert... on hangovers, I mean."

She eyed the fish somewhat suspiceously. No way if that an actual talking fish. Fish don't have the parts to talk with. Probably some other fairy that chooses to look like a fish.

"I doubt Grabbo is a very valuable hostage, but him being alive and treated well should play in our favour if we have to negotiate. The goblins' continued good relationship with the village and general being left alone being conditional on the river being restored may be a better way to make our case."

Bargaining with these goblins sounds like a fairy tale to me. However, if you all feel it has merit, then we should proceed. How far is this encampment? Is there enough daylight left to get there safely. Grabbo may yet prove his worth here shortly.

Can I call on my Spider friend to join me once we near the Goblin demesne?

"By the sounds of it, we wake into overwhelming peril. Perhaps not immediate; but rather possible. If there’s anything… from the years you’ve watched, and outsmarted, them, that you feel would help us, please share it!" the old, sniffling wizard asks of the fish.

His mind went to the notion of threatening the tree, should things go sour. But the wizard didn’t share the notion, for fear of further upsetting the woodland guardian in their ranks.

---

Along the walk to the the pool:
As Jabrano gets to know the goblin, it begins to open up to her. It jokes about the tricks it has played and the pies it has stolen, but never once mentions murder or dark deeds. The way it laughs about its minor crimes, however, suggests that it has a very different morality than the warrior. She doesn't get the impression that the are murderous agents of chaos, but they are still agents of chaos in some manner.

---

To Odilo's questions, the trout swims in few small circles, possibly in thought. "I can't tell you much, but I can tell you this. The chief has been known to fish during the daytime; it would seem he is no longer affected by the bright light. Also, at least one goblin knows how to swim, though I'd prefer it to keep its dirty self out of my water. They rarely cross my path, other than the chief, and I have not spent much- any, really- time in their lair." While one would be surprised at a talking fish, the sarcasm was even less expected.

"Interesting. Perhaps if we lie in wait we might catch the chief in the open without having to go to his home where he has the advantage..."

Maon calls out to Sheskarith. He waits to see if she is near...

"What's your relationship to the goblins' captive, if you don't mind me asking?" Malard asks the fish. "No offense of, of course. It just isn't everyday I meet a talking fish that has all the current gossip."

"A fine plan. Assuming he doesn’t take a guard with him on these fishing trips. Though the tribe does seem quite confident in its security; which works in our favor."

He turns to look at the Halfling, sizing the small folk up!

"We’d need to sneak up on the creature…"

A rustling in the brush lets Maon know that the spider is very, very near. It must have followed them, hidden in whatever foliage it could find.

---

The fish swims in yet another circle before turning to look at Malard. "Unda protects the river, and keeps it flowing. She lives at the great spring, further upriver. She and I often swap stories or gossip about the other animals around here."

"The chief often comes in the early morning or late evening, when the sun hasn't quite risen or set. You may have quite a wait ahead of you, my friends." Salvel the Talking Trout seems to face upwards towards the sun, making its way towards noon. It is still early, but the sun has been up for some time now. Had the chief been fishing already, you would have missed him.

"Unless you were to present yourself as a tempting mid-day catch!"

A few indignant bubbles rise to the surface as the fish silently protests at the idea of being used for bait.

"Honestly, I don't see how this plan can work..." Jabrano says.
"An ambush strikes me as a terrible first move in a negotiation. It's going to immediately turn him unfavourable towards us, and it's not as if can actually release her because he won't have her with him. He's going to need to get back to his home where he has the advantage to do that.
I mean, look, put you in his place. A bunch of armed vagabonds want you to talk you into parting with something you treasure, and their best idea to get you to give up this treasure is to sneak up on you while you go fishing?"

A different approach is necessary. You have the right of it again Jabrano. And yet, if he is wont towards violence first ask questions later, we'll be in the same situation. We will have to parley with him at any rate, however, if we approach him alone we may be able to speak with him on safer terms than in his lair.

"Perhaps it might be worth getting closer and scouting things out a bit," Malard says. "We have a plan, but we don't have quite enough information to make it work."

"We are at the disadvantage in almost every case." Odilo laments. "That just comes with the territory." he says, meaning both figuratively and literally….

"Perhaps our… companion…"

Captive…

… might organize a meeting on good terms? It might be that the goblins lament the very situation they have unknowingly caused. And we’ll be home by supper."