Draconic Shenigans Episode 4

 Draconic Shenanigans Episode 4

 Well I was going to get on with this post sooner but life threw me a lemon in the form of my Mother going back into Hospital with a mysterious disease that is making her temperature spike at, so far, 41૦C. So yeah, not sure how to make lemonade out of this one. Still the career must be done and so...

Chapter Four: Shipping From Lotton

 Having eventually decided how to divide up the spoils of their labor, the 'King's Special' made their way back up the main street, taking in the sights as they did so.

"I don't know about you lot but I could seriously do with a clean," Jeremiah observed, gazing with distaste at his besmirched front, "Thankfully the day has been hot enough that all the stains have dried but I really do feel that we might make a better impression on any potential captains if we don't look like we have just been dragged through the pits of a slaughter house."

"Captain?" Thorian was puzzled, "What do we have to do with any captain?"

"Well unless you want to swim across the Great Lake we need a boat," Jeremiah managed to somehow resist the urge to roll his eyes.

"Couldn't be that difficult," Thorian smiled, "I mean how big can it be?"

"Three days sailing across the longest length and two days North to South," Ulrich recited, "The river alone is nearly a mile across at the point where it leaves the lake."

"Well we could always walk," Thorian shrugged.

"Would take at least two weeks," Ulrich replied, "And that is if we don't run into anything more difficult than a wolf pack and the wolf packs around the south side of the lake have a reputation for being extremely large and hype aggressive. Apparently they have no fear of men and there are some areas they will attack people on sight."

"Oh don't be silly, they are just puppies," Thorian grinned, "Ma old man used to wrestle them in the snow for a laugh in the winter. We used to have great fun with them, it was always a game to see who could out run them and get to the trees fast enough to make sure they didn't bite out the seat of your pants. They didn't seem so keen on mam though."

"Ah, you see that might be the problem," Jeremiah said, not wanting to speculate on how Thorian's mam fitted into the picture, "Your people are, mostly, orcs and orcs and wolves have a natural affinity. Humans and wolves however have a natural aggravation towards each other, probably due to all those years of live stock raiding and being attacked in the woods. Humans object to being eaten."

"So do the deer," Kaelin said, "But they don't think they have the right to take everything they want and leave nothing else for everybody else. If humans didn't keep destroying the paths the prey take then we... the wolves I mean, won't have to keep fighting back to get a mouthful of what was rightly theirs. If you destroy someone else's home don't be surprised when they move into yours."

 "That is a surprising open minded view and I would love to talk about it more but I'm afraid that we really must keep to the discussion of whether we are walking to Nether Wallop or trying to find a ship to convey us so we don't run the dangers of walking through the wolves' territories and therefore taking even more than has already been taken," Jeremiah said soothingly, noting that Kaelin had corrected herself, as if she identified more with the wolves but knew that this wasn't a good thing to say.

"Yeah and to make sure that you don't have to actually lose weight on the way. It would be so terrible if you actually had to do some work for a change," Kaelin's snide smirk was back but Jeremiah didn't count that as a proper smile. That and she was being deliberately unkind so Jeremiah decided to grandly ignore her whole comment.

"Seeing as it is getting dark," Ulrich glanced up at the sky, "I suggest that we see if there is an inn this close to the gate and then try the docks in the morning to discover whether the situation there really is as bad as the guard on gate duty made it out to be."

"How about that up there?" Thorian nodded to the sign slightly up the street, which was creaking slightly in the breeze coming of the lake. The flat black board depicted a white figure, white figure that most definitely had four arms, one raised high and sharply pointed.

"The King's Sword," Jeremiah read the name and grumped, "That he most definitely is, judgemental metal stick insect." He glanced over his shoulder to check that no one was listening.

"What?" Thorian asked as they wandered up the street, "The statue thing that was in the King's Study? He seemed alright to me. Least ways he had something that sorted out that awful headache I had this morning. Still don't know why it hurt so much when I woke up this morning."

"You were incredibly drunk last night," Kaelin stated, "Incredibly, unbelievably drunk. I have seen sailors who would have bowed to you out of respect of how drunk you were."

"Oh, so that's what he meant by the hair of the dog," Thorian nodded slowly, "I wondered. Don't know why that happened, never been drunk before."

"Seriously?" Kaelin raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, never been drunk before," Thorian shook his head, "Always wondered what it was like. It was rather fun, though the stairs were in an awfully tricky mood, they kept jumping out of the way. Do you always wake up with a headache like that when your drunk?"

"Inveritably," Kaelin noted as she pushed open the door.

Behind the bar a burly dwarf with arms that looked like he could pick up two pigs at once looked up from the glass he was polishing.

"Your pet can sleep out in the stables," he stated without preamble. The group looked around puzzled, Jeremiah unobtrusively checking that Scuttlebug was out of sight.  Then Thorian sighed.

"Don't worry," he mumbled, "I'm used to it. I'll just be outside."

"My good earth warrior," Jeremiah took hold of Thorian's arm before he could walk back out, "Before our companion heads to the stable would it be possible for all of us to have a bath each and er, our clothes laundered?"

"It bathes?" the dwarf looked like he was going to start cleaning out his ears to make sure he'd hear that right.

"Any chance of hot water?" Thorian asked, more brightly.

"Yes..." the dwarf almost mumbled it into his beard, then he flung the rag down on the bar top, "Can't believe I'm saying this, but he can eat in the bar room with the rest of you, I'll make sure the straw is clean out there and the wifee will see to your clothes. Twelve silver each, food included."

"My most grateful thanks," Jeremiah beamed, "And where would the wash room be?"

"Down the corridor to the back, just leave your clothes out for the wifee to find," the dwarven bar tender stamped passed, muttering something about going soft in the head and forgetting the past.

"There that wasn't so difficult," Jeremiah beamed, watching with satisfaction the dwarf waving his arms about as he stomped over to the stables. Not long later he was soaking in a deep, if narrow bath and thoroughly enjoying it. Scuttlebug, on the other hand, was not. First he was on the floor but flinched every time a splash of water came his way so he scuttled up the wall to camp on the ceiling but then the stream raising from the bath started to condense on his fur, making him shudder and twitch, raining cold droplets down on Jeremiah. Jeremiah sighed and reached across the room to the door handle.

"Go to the stables," he instructed Scuttlebug, "Keep to the ceilings on your way there and once you are in the stables, keep out of sight." Then he opened the door just enough that Scuttlebug was able to squeeze out and away. Jeremiah settled back as much as he could... someone outside screamed.

Jeremiah hauled himself out of the water, wrapped himself in a robe and stuck his head out of the door. A maid was sat amidst a pile of washing, staring at the open back door and whimpering. Jeremiah stepped up to her and crouched at her side.

"Whatever is the matter my dear," he oozed concern.

"Ssssss..." she stuttered, pointing at the back door, "Ssssppp... spy... spy... spider." Her finger wavered in the air as she shook.

"No there's no spider there," Jeremiah patted her hand, "No spiders. I think you were seeing things, my dear."

"Seeing things?" she questioned.

"Yes," Jeremiah smiled as he quietly cast the illusion spell, "Just seeing things."

"Really?" she looked at him, a little hope in her eyes as she looked round at him and then her gaze went to the ceiling beyond his shoulder. She goggled, mouth opening wide but all she managed was a tiny, dry croak. Then her eyes rolled up in her head and she crumpled all the way down.

"I'll have to remember that one," Jeremiah went back to his bath and settled down to enjoy the last of the warmth in the water.

He did not enjoy the state of his robes when they were delivered later to his room. Someone had used too much starch. In fact, someone had used so much starch that the cloth refused to bend in any of the correct ways, squeezing and pinching and nipping him in various, eye watering places.  Some how he managed to leave his rooms, even though he could barely bend his knees or his hips. After a few minutes of swaying down the corridor like an inverted pendulum he discovered the innkeeper's wife as she bustled down the corridor, reeling off a list of jobs she still had to do before she could retire for the night. At least, he presumed that it was the innkeepers wife, as the hair and beard had been carefully washed, brushed, oiled and braided into a complicated series of patterns. There was even a hint of ribbons knotted through the braids and a gold hoop in one ear. A quick inquiry revealed that his presumption was corrected.

"I hate to be a problem," he flinched as he tried to ease the 'clothes' into a more comfortable position and failed utterly, "Especially as you have worked a wonder in lifting the stains out of this but I find myself in some difficulty were it comes to the state of these clothes. They seem to be really rather, ah, stiff."

"Aye sorry aboot that," she said, "Tis the maid Mary yah see. She had a bit of a funny tern in ta corridor. Seems to have put her right off ta step. She's not normally that ham fisted with ta starch." She cast an appraising eye up and down his clothes. "Tell yah wot, seeing as it's our mistake, if yah can put up with them til after dinner, I'll wash um ma'self and do um again, no charge extra. How's that sound?"

"Sounds like you are offering me a miracle," Jeremiah admitted, his eyes watering, "One that I'll more than gladly take."

"Alright then," she nodded, "Just leave them outside the door and I'll see to them later. And I apologize for ma husband's attitude aboot ya green friend. He's a crusty old soul and he had more than a few bad experiences with those people when he was younger. I must say that him letting ya friend in ta eat is a step in the right direction and I think the fact he had a bath just might have jemmied ma husband's mind open a little more so I thank ye for some motion in that direction."

Still swaying like a pendulum that was upside down, Jeremiah made it downstairs, in time to suggest to Thorian that using his set of flat wear might make the evening go more smoothly when it came to a certain dwarf's attitude. After that he just had to worry about Kaelin's ever increasing lack of table manners.

The following morning saw them walking out of 'The King's Sword' Inn more rested than they had been for a couple of days, though Jeremiah seemed to be ignoring Kaelin's comments about a lack of angry mobs with some effort.

"So where are we going first?" Ulrich asked.

"I don't know about you but I didn't get my pie last night," Thorian turned towards a certain pie shop, "I think we should make sure we have lunch packed."

"An excellent idea," Jeremiah beamed, "I have to confess that I have missed eating regularly over the last couple of days." 

"Yeah, it would be such a shame if you didn't look like an overinflated balloon," Kaelin muttered but once again Jeremiah ignored it grandly as they started off down the street.

The smell that greeted them as the door to Dippler's pie shop opened was hot, savory and mouth watering.

"Ah good morning my chums," Dippler greeted as he expertly slide the content of a baking sheet on to the shelves of his veil fronted counter, "I wondered if you'd be calling back today, seeing as you didn't call round in the evening. Your dicker to pony up those ponies took longer than I thought it would, did it?"

"Something like that," Jeremiah admitted, "I have to admit that I'm surprised that you have the first batch ready so soon."

"Ah, location, my dear chummy," Dippler touched his weaselly nose, "Everything in this life is location, don't yeh know? That goes for time as well as place. If I want to bag the breakfast rush then I need to be up and ready for them, pies out of the oven and piping hot. So saying, I'd hop to it, my chummies, the crowd will be along in a moment and they won't like anyone holding me up, they have jobs they have to get to and the night shift will be wanting their bite to eat before they hit the sacks. Don't know the sacks did to them but they'll be wanting to hit them as soon as poss so come on my lovelies, what will it be?"

"What is there on offer?" Jeremiah asked.

"Oh a connoisseur," Dippler grinned, "I should have guessed. Well, there is the ever favorite steak and kidney, just steak (one for keeping the vampires away that one), liver and onions, mince, ham and my new one, bacon and eggs."

"Oh they all sound so good," Jeremiah rubbed his hands.

"Ah, well, if you can't decide I can do you a box set bundle of two of each," Dippler offered with a willy smile.

"How much?" Jeremiah asked so fast that Dippler had almost not finished talking.

"For you, my old chum," Dippler's eyes rolled up as he calculated, "Say five silver."

"Done," Jeremiah had the coins on the counter quick as a flash and Dippler had them off again just as fast. Quick as a wink he had a sheet of some stuff that was not wood but was stiffer than paper on the counter top. A couple of flicks of his wrists had it shaped into a box with a hinged lid and twelve steaming pies were tucked into it. Dippler even tidied it up with a dull colored ribbon.

"There you are my chummy," he grinned, "I normally have more of a variety but since all the fuss down at the docks I just can't seem to get the fish stocks no more.  Now can I do anything for the rest of you before the hordes of gannets descend?"

"Ah there any cheaper ones," Thorian asked hopefully.

"Lucky for you my chum there are - my Marvelous Miscellaneous Pies," Dippler grinned, "Just the ticket for a hungry tum that doesn't have a lot of dough to fill it up with." Another box was flipped into existence and six larger flatter pies where popped into quick as winking. "Two silver ten for you, my old chummy, and the box should help keep them warm if you have a way to go. Now any more for the rest of you before my regulars arrive?"

Kaelin just had time of bag two of the mince pies and Ulrich went for the ham before the shop door clanged open and a crowd of work men filled the shop up to bursting. Dipplers' hands were suddenly a blur, boxes and bags popping into existence, being filled and closed, money clinking away out of sight as Dippler greeted his regulars by name, sometimes not even bothering to ask if they wanted their usual, just bustling as fast as he could go.

"Chap like that could do with an extra set of hands," Ulrich observed as they eventually fought their way out of the shop.

"He rather seems to have it down to a fine art," Jeremiah observed, "And I have a feeling that he'd resent having to share the profits with anyone else."

"Don't know," Kaelin rolled her shoulders to work out the tension of being surrounded by that many people all at once, "Depends what sort of offer you'd make him I think. If you were willing to work as hard as he is for bed and board and kept your mouth shut about where he gets his ingredients, he might be willing to entertain the idea. I might think of looking him up when all this is done and we've earned our freedom. Might be nice to have a roof to sleep under and regular meals."

"I take it that a steady location hasn't been high in your list of experiences," Jeremiah said gently.

"Let's just say some of us learn sooner than others that the Gods can be absolute bastards," Kaelin stepped out ahead of them, leaving the others to quick step in her wake.

As they worked their way into the dock quarter of the city they began to realize that the guard at the gate might not have been exaggerating that much when he said that there was trouble. The were extra-ordinary numbers of sailors on shore and dock workers with heavy tools in hand were guarding the warehouses and glowering at anyone who didn't walk on by quickly enough. Merchants were arguing with landlords, with captains, with guardsmen and with each other. Captains were arguing with guardsmen, with the merchants and with their own crews as they threaded their way through the close packed warehouses and processing houses. Coming closer to the warfs, the noise from taverns that were open much earlier in the day than usual spilled out into the streets as well.

"Well someone is earning more than usual," Ulrich sniffed as he stepped over a sailor snoring in the gutter.

"More than you suppose," Kaelin murmured as she spotted the ragged little urchin scuttling up the alley with the contents of the sailor's pockets clenched in his fists.  The docks were a surprise to them all. They looked like the docks of any seaport on the coast but there was no salt tang on the air and no tide line evident. There was also a distinct lack of the usual smell of rubbish that docks tend to gather. Walking along the keyside, they saw group of sailors longing on barrels and boxes, mostly playing cards.

"Excuse me," Ulrich approached one group, "We're looking for passage across the lake to..."

"Look mister," the sailor who was dealing looked up, "We aren't going until that beasty out there is slain, driven off or otherwise dealt with. Ain't nobody sailing and 'fore you say one bally thing about cowards I've sailed these waters since I was knee high to the tombstone, as my father and grandfather did before me. We've all sailed these waters for more years than you can count but that thing out there is something beyond nature. Until that freak is dealt with, we ain't sailing and the merchants can scream about lost profit, many more cargoes on the lake bed is going to lose them a lot more profit than that."

"Beyond nature you say," Jeremiah stepped forward, an nonthreatening smile on his face, "What do you mean by that?" The sailor's mouth clapped shut and he looked away.

"Come now friends," Jeremiah coaxed, "Surely you know the King's Specials are sent to deal with this sort of thing? Surely you don't expect us to deal with something that we don't know. Come on, please, anything that you have seen could be a great help." The sailor kept his mouth shut.

"White," a voice said from behind them.

"Excuse me," Jeremiah turned. Sat among the boxes behind them a small, skinny gnome crouched turning a good luck charm over and over in his hands.

"White," he repeated, as the charm turned over and over, "It was white. White as ivory, white as bone, white as death. It was white. White."

"That's Cameo," the sailor who had broken ranks to speak with them, sat down with a less thunderous expression on his face. "He's all that's left of our sister ship the Kittiwake. We thought sailing together would give us some sort of protection. Ha, well you see how well that worked out. The moment that thing starts moving in the waters the storms start and then it strikes. The Storm Petrol would have gone down as well if we hadn't turned back the moment we struck the bowsprit of the Kittiwake and pulled Cameo there up on deck. We were the last ones to try it, the docks have been on lock down ever since, nothing in, nothing out."

"Well you see that is going to be a problem," Jeremiah admitted, "Because we really need to make it across the lake to do the job we've been sent to do and it seems to be the only way we'll be able to cleanse the lake of this monstrosity."

The sailor looked like he was chewing on a lemon for a minute.

"The Armored Dragon," he said at last, "If any captain is mad enough to try and make it across the lake he'll be the one."

"The Armored Dragon?" Ulrich frowned, "Is that the ship or the Captain's name?"

"The ship," the sailor rolled his eyes at Ulrich's stupidity, "I heard its berth up at the north end of the docks. Her captain will be near by, he never goes far from his ship these days, him and that big aft bird of his."

"Thank you for your time then," Ulrich gave the sailor a short bow and turned to lead the group up the keyside.

"Hey!" the sailor called, "Good luck, do you hear me?"

"You're welcome," Ulrich smiled more warmly, "And when we get back we'll have to meet up and tell you what happened."

"You do that... if you get back," the sailor actually smiled.

The north end of the docks, revealed a sturdy looking ship, deeper in the draft than many of the other lake ships and with square set sails. She looked out of place amongst the myriad schooners with their triangular fore and aft sails and her figure head stood tall over many of them.

"That's unusual," Ulrich noted gazing at the figure head.

"Would have thought you couldn't ask for a stronger guardian than one of them," Kaelin sniffed.

"You're right there but I meant its wings," Ulrich nodded to the figure head. Kaelin frowned as she looked at the figure head again and then her eyes opened wide. The dragon's head was lifted proudly high, its wings flared back in the stance of about to take flight but instead of the usual bat like membranes, its wings seemed to be made of overlapping sword blades, its every scale echoing the form of sharp and ready edges. At the far end of the wharf a man sat on a barrel at the base of the gang plank, slowly whittling a shape out of a black of wood, the sun shining on the heavy gold rings he wore on his dark fingers. As the party walked up the gangway of wooden planks the head of a bird with a truly enormous beak emerged from the wood.

"Are you the Captain of The Armored Dragon?" Ulrich asked as they approached him.

"That I be," the man looked up at them, his eyes shockingly light grey in the dark face above the steely grey beard but they were not intimidating eyes. Instead they seemed to hope a wisdom that was as deep as the dark ocean and almost as unknowable, "And what can I do for you this fine day?"

"We need a ship to take us across the lake to Nether Wallop," Ulrich sensed that trying to lie to this man would be an exercise in pointlessness.

"Ah, now there's a trouble for you my friends," the captain put down his carving beside him, "And I suppose that you have heard tales of the new beastie that roams this lovely lake and makes passage so expensive at the moment."

"Yes, we had heard something to that effect," Jeremiah admitted, "But we also heard that you were the only captain willing to risk the journey at this moment in time so we concluded that you didn't believe in such nonsense."

"Nonsense you say?" the Captain smiled at them, "And who are you to say it is nonsense? Have you seen a whole ship load of friends pulled below the waves? Have you seen a storm such as I have not seen since my days of sailing the salt water spring out of a clear blue sky? Have you found yourself picking your way through the ruins of many good men and good ships? When you have done that, then you can say it is nonsense and not before."

"So you do believe in this monster," Kaelin stated.

"Believe?" the Captain questioned, "No I do not need to believe, I know. I know what these two eyes of mine have seen and what these two ears have heard and what this whole mind has known. There is something in this lake that should not be here and one has to ask, what is more wrong? The mindless beast maddened with pain and confusion at being forced to some where it has no right to be? Or the ones that have pushed and prodded and goaded it out of its home to where it does not belong? There is a question."

"The other question is whether you will or you won't give us passage across the lake?" Ulrich returned.

"Well said mon amei," the Captain smiled, "And I would give you passage but I am afraid that it would be expensive to buy what I would need to get us back across the water alive, nothing less than three hundred and fifty gold - each. I do know that the guardsmen are desperate for a specialist team at the moment for some quite ugly happenings are going on in the countryside at the moment. They should be paying well."

"Give us a moment please," Ulrich held up a hand, then turned to his companions and drew them into a huddle, "Over three hundred gold is beyond what we are going to be able to earn quickly and I for one am beginning to think that this might be the source of the trouble with Nether Wallop."

 "So unless we sort it," Jeremiah's mouth tightened, "We can expect to be having hard words with the King's sword, so what if we just kill him and take the boat," an unpleasant light appeared in Jeremiah's eyes, "It can't be that that hard to steer a boat."

A laugh startled them all.

"You could, you could, you certainly could," the Captain smiled as he stopped laughing, "But then you would have to be a-killing my crew and what with all that killing and murdering who would be left to be steering her out there on the deep water? 'Cause make no mistake, this might be sweet water but it is deep and dark and cold in there. Who knows what else is living down there other than our new beastie."

"Is it really that hard?" Thorian rubbed the back of his neck, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Why else would sailors exist if any fool could just stand in a boat and tell it where they wanted it to go?" the Captain asked, "I think your priestly friend doesn't know as much as he thinks he does and he delights in killing a little to much to be a regular sort of priest so I think I'd be needing to ask that you don't feed any of my crew to that darkling god of yours. Come to think of it, you do rather remind me of..."

"Of whom?" Jeremiah asked after a moment.

"Of an old friend of mine," the Captain rubbed his beard for a moment, "In fact he would probably be the best man for this job, him and his little critters. Yes, this situation would be just like old times for him. Tell you what, I will waiver my fee if your good selves will take a jaunt to the Dead Swamp north of here and rouse out an old friend of mine who has taken to living there. He may have just what we need to make it through this journey in one piece. I would go myself now that I've thought of it but my crew has been a-getting of the restlessness while we have been stuck in port so long. If I tootle off now, I'll like as not come back to find no cargo, no crew and maybe even no ship. What say you?"

"Dead Swamp, that sound dangerous," Thorian observed.

"Not as dangerous as it used to be," Ulrich noted, "Don't get me wrong, about ten years ago it was the last place you wanted to be, a right nasty piece of work of a wizard took up residence there and well, that's when it started to die. We're talking the whole central area of the forest and then it started spreading out from there. There are towns round the edge of the forest where the people still haven't return to, the memories of find that everyone there had just laid their tools down and walked off into the forest are too fresh every all these years later."

"Years later?" Thorian asked, "So the wizard is no longer there?"

"No, thank which ever God you believe in," Ulrich confirmed, "If he hadn't been dealt with then we probably wouldn't be standing here as free, well, freeish people, we'd be in there, slaving as mind controlled puppets for the wizard's whims."

"Hum, guess a previous King's Special managed that job," Kaelin folded her arms, gazing out over the lake, listening to the little waves lapping at the dock supports.

"You could be saying that," Ulrich nodded, "A foreigner turned up at the dock of the Capital with a crew for freaks that you could imagine in your worse nightmares and it seemed he made straight for the Dead Swamp. After he went in, the rot stopped spreading and people stopped disappearing and..." he trailed off, staring at the Captain.

"Told you my old friend might be just the man we need for this job," he smiled, "So do we have a deal?"

Kaelin suddenly tensed and swung round.

"North of here?" she asked, "As in North of the river?"

"That would be so," the captain agreed, seeming intrigued by her reaction.

"We are not going there," the statement had no room for discussion.

"Why not?" Thorian frowned.

"We just aren't," Kaelin hugged herself, shivering slightly.

"Kaelin, Kaelin, my dear, what on earth's the matter?" Jeremiah overflowed with concern, "We can't help you if you don't tell us."

Kaelin hugged herself harder, stepping back from them. Ulrich stepped towards her and then stopped as she stepped back even further.

"Kaelin..." he cautioned softly but instead of stopping, Kaelin stepped back again. Her heel came down over the edge of the gangway. Teetering backwards, her arms whirled for a moment and then a strong but gentle hand closed round her arm. She looked round into the Captain's face.

"Running away from the storm more often than not drives you on to the rocks," he said gently as he helped her take a step forward. After another long moment Kaelin swallowed.

"Alright," she said, "We try it."

"Then a bargain we have made," the Captain smiled and turned to his ship, "Lads, ready the long boat, we are taking these good people across the river, then perhaps we can have a proper voyage."  The crew swung into action with a will, obviously glad to have something to do.

The sail across the river was smooth and quick, the Captain's strong hands guiding them with ease. With a quiet crunch they grounded on the northern bank of the river.

"Just a word of... advise," the Captain said as they stepped out on to the shore, "My old friend prefers those who are polite and if you try to force him to do something then you are likely to wind up hurt, though with a Mastersmith that is not always the end of the line."

"Mastersmith?" Jeremiah queried.

The Captain smiled.

"Let's put it this way, I know that it is a distinct possibility that I will go to Hell at the end of my lives," he said, "And when and if that happens I will need the friendship of a Mastersmith."  With that the long boat was pushed off from shore and started making its way back towards the docks of Lotton.

"That sounded ominous," Ulrich noted as they turned their faces towards the forest. Tall, graceful willows swayed back and forth, back and forth, rustling almost sounding like voices, murmuring to each other.

"Seems alive enough to me," Thorian observed and picked what looked like a rabbit trail to follow. Kaelin sniffed deeply, sampling the odors of the forest.

"Here it is," she stated, "I don't think it is so healthy further in." Never the less, it was a more pleasant walk then they had had after they had left the capital, the trees providing shade and a gentle breeze keeping them cool. The pie's from Dippler's were even still warm when they stopped for lunch, in a glade.  The trees around them had changed as well, the willows of the waters edge, giving way to ash and hazel, birch and hawthorn with one or two oaks slowly making their way towards the canopy. Still, the murmuring branches did still sound like voices talking to each other in a language that Kaelin found she could almost understand but not quite. It didn't sound hostile though, even maybe curious. After a while she found herself doozing.

"Seems that the Captain was right," Ulrich grinned down at her, "This doesn't seem to be the disaster you thought it was going to be."

"That remains to be seen," Kaelin ignored the hand he offered and turned her face towards their route, "Winds changed, I can't smell anything from ahead of us now."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Ulrich reassured her.

"Like having me drive the cart was?" Kaelin asked with a smirk.

"You aren't going to let me live that down are you?" Ulrich frowned.

"Nope," Kaelin smirked more as she set out with a swinging gait.

The afternoon was wearing on and Kaelin had started to notice patches of soil in the underbrush that didn't look right, the dark texture just off in a way she couldn't quite describe and she was picking up a smell from the patches they had passed that was catching in the back of her throat.

"Oh look," Thorian called, "It's a dog. Come here doggy, come here boy, we won't hurt you."

Kaelin looked to where he was calling to. The 'dog' stood looking back at them with flat unfriendliness.

"Er, Thorian," she said softly, "That isn't a dog."

"What do you mean? Of course it's a dog," Thorian said, "Come here, boy, there's a good dog."

As if that was the sign, the trees erupted with short, green figures yelling and brandishing rusty looking swords, swarming towards them, even as some of them bashed others over the head to get at their prey first. Kaelin let her other side go, her face rippling and bubbling as it took over and claimed her teeth. However, for once she wasn't the fastest one there.

Scuttlebug dropped out from under his master's robes and chittered his palps as Jeremiah stood tall and proclaimed a series of words that made Kaelin want to roll over and show her belly. If it made her cringe then that was nothing compared to how it affected the goblins swarming towards them. The center of the swarm, including one of the pack mates of the 'dog' turned tail and ran yelping into the trees, howling in terror and falling over each other to get away.

A larger, burlier goblin shouted and cursed after them, waving his oversized cleaver after his retreating minions before shouting and cuffing the ones who'd managed to stay into continuing the charge. The 'dog' Thorian had been trying to make friends with charged forward and did its best to set its teeth into his leg.

"Ow!" Thorian yelled, "BAD dog!" His great sword swung in a glittering arch and the dog realized too late that it had made a very bad choice. Ulrich's swords span in tight, whirling circles that seemed to confuse the goblins no end until said circles resulted in their end. Kaelin's teeth did their work and goblins squealed as her gaze fell upon them. A goblin went down under the eight furry legs of Scuttlebug and its body went to convulsions as the spider's fangs injected dose of toxin into its system but Scuttlebug turned too slow as another goblin dog bounded towards him. With a stomach turning, sucking crunch Scuttlebug came apart in the middle, the dog shaking him until pieces splattered and sprayed over the surrounding goblins.

Jeremiah seemed to inflate and the shadows flared round him, clinging to the head of his mace in tattered streamers. The dog yelped as Jeremiah's foot knocked it over on to its side. It never had the chance to stand back up, Jeremiah's mace caving in its rib cage with brutal force.

Thorian's sword swept in great arches, mowing down goblins like wheat in the field but it was Ulrich that reached the goblin commander first. The goblin snarled and spat something foul but Ulrich's fulchions parried once, twice, a third time and then the goblin's head bounced off a tree and rolled into a pile of leaf litter.

"Sorry old boy, did you say something?" Ulrich asked but no reply was forth coming, "Didn't think so."

He turned back to the group in time to see the speculative look in Jeremiah's eyes.

"Oh no," Ulrich said, "Not again."

Jeremiah began to speak and Ulrich felt his hair trying quite successfully to stand on end. He turned his back as the shadows came alive and writhed around the goblin dog's corpse. He only turned back when he head the unsteady scrabbling of paws in the dirt. The goblin dog stood, head swaying from side to side, looking like a hairless, green skinned mangy mutt with a malformed rib cage. Its glowing blue-green eyes gave him the creeps.

"Did you have to?" Ulrich asked with disgust.

"It killed my Scuttlebug," Jeremiah sounded as if it was self evident, "Besides this one might be easier to explain away to a city guard."

"I suppose so," Ulrich wrinkled his nose.

"Are you coming or not?" Kaelin asked, sniffing at the dirt.

"What's up?" Ulrich asked.

"Those goblins are going to rally eventually," Kaelkin kept sniffing, "If we don't deal with them before they do then they will be back, you can count on it."

"Onwards then," Ulrich smiled, "We few, we lucky few."

"We band of buggered," Kaelin observed as she stood.