Echoes of the Past

Boudica whispers to her friends, "Perhaps we need not fight?"

She stows her weapon and raises her hands. She says, "We mean you no harm. We only wish passage through this crypt, for we walk the path of the old faith. I can trade you one ration each if you’ll allow us safe passage."

Anton steps forward, equally disarming and translates Boudica's words into Goblin.

Miyana keeps her bow pulled and watches the goblins for signs of treachery.

The goblins murmur among themselves in low, guttural whispers when Anton speaks in Goblin to them, unsure of what they should do. Eventually, a figure emerges among their numbers; a hunched, weathered old crone with sickly skin stretched tight over her bones. A pair of beady eyes gleam beneath the tangled mess of stringy white hair, and her teeth (what few remains in her mouth), are yellow and rotten.

Despite her age (or maybe because of it), the rest of the goblins step aside when she approaches, making way for her to pass.

"Who are you?" she croaks "why are you here? What do you want?"

Boudica looks at her companions, unsure if she should speak. She was neither their leader nor their spokesperson, after all. Yet her faith compels her to speak the truth in this situation, in this holy place.

"I am Boudica, and we have come because this place is holy to my faith. We do not wish to take what is yours, nor disturb your community. We only wish to walk this path as pilgrims, to examine this holy site, and, hopefully, find a few ancient relics that are important to my faith, but likely of little value to anyone else. May we pass?"

The crone's eyes narrow. She knows what Boudica is talking about, and she can't help but cackle under her breath:

"I know what you seek" she pauses to look at the lot of you, thinking of what she could gain out of this exchange

"If you want to pass, you’ll need to pay. Ten woolies!! You pay, you go"

Boudica blinks a few times and then looks at her friends. She whispers, "Um... what's a woolie?"

Anton shrugged, "A form of currency perchance?" he looked to the crone, "Forgive us, but we are unfamiliar with your currency. Can you describe a Woolie so that we can see if we have it amongst our goods?"

"Woolies!" the crone snaps, her voice dripping with annoyance, as if the adventurers should already know what she's talking about. "Woolies! "They're soft. White. They have four legs, and they go 'Baaaa!' Baaaa!" She grunts, mimicking the sound of the animal

"Humans have so many of them! I once saw a whole hill covered in them, like little white clouds walking on the earth. They use their fur to make their clothes" She pauses to look at Anton "I know you humans have these woolies. You bring us ten, and we’ll let you pass."

"Oh! Sheep! Yes, woolies. Um, that seems reasonable?"

Turning to her companions, she whispers, "Any idea how far we'd have to travel to acquire ten sheep? How much do sheep cost, anyway? I confess I have no idea..."

Miyana shifts from one foot to the other, her bowstring still taut.

Boudica thinks and whispers to her companions, "Now that I think about it, we'd have to go back to the village and get them, and likely have to pay 100-150 gold, then somehow herd them back here... That would take a week, or more. That is... too much to ask, I think."

She turns back to the goblins and asks, "Might there be something else we could give you, or do for you, in place of the woollies? We have no woolies at hand at the moment."

"We have no use for your trinkets, or your gold" the crone insists "if you want to go into our home, then this is our price"

We are on an important mission, and we won’t be deterred. Stand aside, run away, or die by my sword. The choice is yours!
Will gazes emerald eyes upon the crone with the most intimidating prowess imaginable!

The crone lets out a rasping cackle "Foolish human! Head full of rock! I gave you an option to get what you desire, but if you choose violence, then our home will become your tomb!"

She waves her hand, and three goblins step forward, pointing the tips of their spears at the adventurers. Their hands shake slightly, but their intent is clear; they will skewer you if you dare step any closer

Boudica cries out to the other goblins, "I beseech you, we do not want to kill you, but we will if we must! And we have the might to do so. Think how many of you will die, how many of your children will be orphaned, even if you win. And all we want is passage! Do so many of you wish to die for this crone's arrogance? Do not smack away the open hand of friendship!"

"Arrogance?" the crone stomps her feet "It is you who invaded our home. It is you who threatened us! Why should we allow you inside, when we can't trust you not to butcher each and every one of us?" the narrow tunnel was easy to defend. The bigger cavern, not so much.