1: Dovedale

Once Jabrano is ready, Oren, Grabo, and the Warrior walk out towards the chief with their hands visible before them. Oren addresses the king in his own language and bows at the waist.

"Greetings your eminence, I am Oren, exile of the Eternal Lands. As one descendant of the Faerie Wilds to another I salute you and acknowledge your sovereignty. Will you treat with us a moment? We seek an opportunity that would benefit both of us."

Odilo hides himself among the trees and the shrubbery. He can’t resist but to watch on, peeking out from a tangle of growth.

He feels largely positive about the coming encounter, and hopes it doesn’t come to blows, though he does take stock of the magics at his disposal, in case it comes to blows.

He watches, and waits…

The goblin chief, supposedly Gravelbeak, slows for a moment as the elf approaches with his companions. Seeing that there are only the three of them (including Grabbo), he sits tall atop his furry mount and strides forward. The other goblin, likely Fishbelly, scrambles to keep up and doesn't look as regal.

In the goblin tongue, the chief speaks to Oren. "Well met, Oren the Exile. I am Chief Gravelbeak, head goblin in the Dovedale and Dalewold. And Grabbo, it is strange to see you in such company. What is it that you would offer me that I cannot take for my own? What is this opportunity? If it is to return the state of the river, that will be done as soon as I have captured my prize." As he approaches, it is plain to see that he wears a scale tunic under his clothing, and bears a spear, short sword, and crossbow; contrasted with this is a fishing pole held in his hands, along with a small pouch with many beautiful feathers poking out from within.

The pale goblin on foot, Fishbelly, looks around suspiciously as if he cannot believe that a friendly delegation would be waiting to meet with them. He is not wearing the same outfit, and instead carries only a spear. Swimming in scaled armor would not be an easy feat for one so small.

Trina waits, hidden in the underbrush, for the signal to reveal herself or attack, depending on which way this should go.

Malard, not capable of speaking goblin is highly amused by the proceedings and keeps a close on the proceedings to determine when he should exit his place.

While she often tries to downplay her physicality, here Jabrano palys it up, looking every bit the imposing Half-Orc warrior that she is. She figures this is the best approach, and it might also keep eyes on her instead of looking for their hidden companions. She approaches the goblin slowly, Grabbo at her side. She gives him a polite bow and then crosses her arms.
"Wise and mighty Chieftain, we are here on the bahalf of the village of Ashbourbe. We appologise for intruding on your hunt. You are correct in our purpose. We are here to talk about the river. The village needs the river to survive. Their crops are wasting under the sun. Their cattle has almost nothing to drink. They do not have the luxury of waiting until you rid the forest of this annoying fairy-fish. Surely we can come to some mutually beneficial arrabgement?

Odilo watches on, thankful for the half-orc’s change to Common. He wondered if the Goblin could speak the tongue. Time would tell.

As a precaution, he mutters the magic words that would cause the ground to become slippery beneath their feet, ensuring to himself that he still knew the incantation, should the need arise.

The goblin chief cowers for a moment at the approach of the half-orc, but quickly regains his composure. He listens intently to her request to parley, but one hand drifts to his sword as though by instinct. With Grabbo by her side, Jabrano must be a friend... right?

"You speak many words, all of which I understood," he clearly lies. "But your village is fine. There is still water, and they have many foods to make pies. All I want is to catch that damned fish! Once I have that tasty trout, I'll let the river run free."

From behind Jabrano, she can hear the squeaky voice of Grabbo speak up. "They must have food, if they still make tasty tasty pies! There, I've taken you to the chief, can I please go now?"

As the conversation begins, Malard recognizes the pleading sound of Grabbo's voice, and wonders what's being discussed.

It is noted that the goblins have switched from Goblin to the Common Tongue. The distance may be too much for some companions in hiding to hear.

Oren continues with the king in the goblin tongue,

"The talking fish is a friend of mine from long ago, you should know that to eat him is to invoke the curse of the King of Elfland for he is himself cursed by the king to live as a fish for all time. Perhaps there is another great prize that we could win in your honor that might slick your thirst?"

The tangled web we weave...

The goblin chief nearly chokes atop is mount. A cursed fish? All this time, and Salvel has never one mentioned being a king! But that would explain how he had been too clever to be caught by Chief Gravelbeak. After all, a king must be smarter than a chief. With a sigh, the goblin chief reaches into his pouch and throws something colorful and shiny to the ground; it is small and feathered, but difficult to identify at the moment.

"If I cannot have fish tonight, then the next best thing would be bird. Catch for me Baron Ironbeak, and bring him to my cave. I will trade the blue lady for him. No more harassing my bats! No longer leaving droppings on my trails! No more acting smarter than me!"