Chapter 24: Isekai Life & Rising Distrust

A day and a half later we were concealed in the brush along the coast, looking across the rocky shore to the massive tower that the goblins were using as their base.

Getting there had been fairly straightforward. After a night of restless sleep for myself, at least, we roused before dawn and set out. Voss had us well provisioned, with enough food for the trip out and back (mostly hard tack, provided at a decent price by Big Dap), plenty of rope, oilcloths to wrap our equipment in, and several other adventuring necessities. Of course, we had also been healed by the town’s ever-helpful priest. We started by heading east, until we reached the riverside, before following the river north, hunting for the goblin landing site.

We lucked into the trail of one of their hunting parties early on, and followed their back trail to their landing site. A quartet of goblins had been left behind to guard the site, but only one was paying any attention. Moruca was able to down the one alert guard with a single arrow, then her and, surprisingly, Raszil were able able to sneak into the landing site and deal rather ruthlessly with the others. I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked that Raszil knew how to sneak around- as a cleric of a god of secrets, I should have expected that he’d turn out to be a cleric/thief multiclass.

Unfortunately, the boats proven to have too shallow a draft to transport our mounts. They were just a handful of flat-bottomed rowboats, and while a warg was roughly the same size as a horse, the horses were a great deal taller and not trained to lie down quietly while we paddled along. With a bit of scouting around, Moruca was able to find a grassy paddock belonging to a farmer she knew, where we could pen up the horses where they could graze until we could retrieve them. Hopefully the goblins that were soon to be stranded here wouldn’t trouble them, or if they did, Stout would give them enough trouble to make it not worth it. Hopefully, once they realized what was happening, the goblins would rush home on foot (or warg), giving us a day or two to deal with the lair before they returned.

We packed our supplies into three of the boats, and Voss punched holes into the ones we weren’t using with his halberd before we shoved off. One we were out and paddling with the current, it didn’t take us long- only about three-quarters of the day- to make it to the coast.

Thankfully, where our particular stretch of river met the sea was surrounded by thick woods. While we should see the top of the goblin’s tower sticking crookedly out of the top of the forest, we felt it was unlikely that they would be able to notice us on the river, surrounded by all the foliage in full midsummer splendour. After beaching our boats, we spent one tense but uneventful night camping at the riverside, right on the edge of the goblins’ neighborhood. By morning, we were ready to make our approach.

The tower was square, and seemed to me to be more a “keep” than a “tower”, just by the sheer size of it. I spent most of the morning glancing up and wondering if a “keep” was really just a fat tower with a wall around it. At one point, it must have been quite the intimidating sight, pale grey stone reaching up into the sky, with four tiers divided by battlements on which I easily imagined dwarven archers and catapults. It still had a sort of decayed, gothic grandeur even now, as it listed sharply to lean over the ocean at an eighty degree angle. Time had worn away the shore, and it was obvious to anyone passers by that the tower’s days were numbered, especially considering that there was a great hole ripped into the wall of the tower, facing the shore, which had a crude ramp of fallen masonry and rock leading up to it. The actual entrance to the tower faced the ocean, and was sunken beneath the waterline.

Our hiding spot was selected by Moruca with care, an outrcropping which stuck out of the coast compared to the tower, where we’d have an unimpeded view across the shore at the tower but had plenty of cover for ourselves. “Reckon that the little bastard can’t see for shit in the daylight,” she explained, “So we should be safe here.”

That checked out, with what I knew about goblins. Still, moving up to the tower could be dangerous, if they left any worgs hanging around that didn’t get taken on patrol.

I put my hand up to shade my eyes, scanning the tower for movement, but I saw none, but with how well organized these goblins were, I didn’t trust it- they had to have someone on watch while they slept, if only to see if any of the slaves were getting away.

“So, any insights you have there, boss?” Voss asked, “You seem to have a pretty good academic understanding of these guys.”

I frowned. If my numbers were correct, and we’ve seen most of their worg-rider force... “They’d have one hundred forty, maybe one hundred fifty goblin warriors left,” I said referring to the numbers scrawled on my ledger, “They’re very ruthless and violent when it comes to their place in goblin society, so expect the leaders to be strong enough to hold on to their position ... With the numbers I’m seeing, I’d imagine there are at least two or three factions, who would have their own leaders under a central chief. There’d be even more noncombatants, goblin children and goblins too weak to fight ... so, maybe six hundred goblins total.”

Raszil made an impressed whistle. The rest of the group was silent, maybe just now realizing how much work there was ahead of us.

“Oh, right,” I said, shutting the ledger carefully so as not to make excess noise, “There might be a group of bugbears. The two races get along, and sometimes goblins hire bugbear mercenaries.”

“Oh, good,” Raszil quipped, “I was hoping this was going to be easy.”

I waved my hand, dismissing his remark. “Thing is, the run of the mill goblins aren’t what’s really dangerous. We’ve been killing them by the dozen every night for over a week, at least Voss, Yua and I have,” I replied, “It’s been those damn worgs that are the real danger, and I think it’s safe to assume we killed the majority of them three days ago, when ... when we met Haseth and Seran.”

“So how does a bugbear stack up to a worg, then?” Moruca asked.

I thought about it. Both creatures had similar hit dice. The bugbears had a bonus to taking their opponents by surprise, and were exceptionally strong, enough so that they get a flat +2 to all damage rolls they made in melee, while the worgs were just bigger, evil, more dangerous wolves, with all that implied. “Bugbears would be a little bit stronger,” I admitted, “But there would probably be fewer of them, if that helps. There would have to be a small enough group to be useful to the goblins without being a threat to the goblin chief.”

Another thoughtful silence fell over us, as everyone processed that tidbit.

“So, first things first, we have to figure out how we’re getting in,” I said, trying to snap them out of the introspective gloom, “Haseth, you said you scouted this place out before, with the Ravenwatch?”

Haseth nodded, and pointed to the top of the tower. “We lighted on the tower top with our griffons, and attempted to infiltrate from the top, down,” he explained, “We thought we were being careful, but nonetheless they knew we were coming, and attacked us in the narrow confines of the top floors, where we got separated. That’s when the princess and many of my comrades were taken. Seran, being the youngest, was guarding the griffons on the tower top, and I...” He hesitated, grimacing, “I was wounded, and saw them carrying off the princess and my comrades like trussed pigs. I had an opportunity to flee, to get assistance, and so, I did.”

The phrase “Slaves, women, meat” came unbidden into my mind, and I tried my best to ignore it, and focus on the matter at hand.