With the sun rising and the rivers thawing, it was about time to visit the Elves dwelling in Vimebaamu, or "Reignedcreature."
The quiet of the Purple Jungle was broken by the tumult of the goblins, who continuously quarreled amongst themselves over any trivial disagreement they could find. The noise was comforting in its own way, clearing the new day of the rotten aftertaste of the night creatures. It was somewhat of a shame that the horde could not seek out and rid the Elves of their attackers at the source, but it couldn't be helped - this was the best that could be done. At least tonight, the night creatures would abduct no one.
And despite the goblins complaining to Cog that they possessed grevious injuries, in truth none of the goblins had been injured fighting the shadow women and consorts of the night.
Cog paused for thought when he heard the grating voice of an Elf ahead. Now was the moment of truth - would the goblins hold fast and make new friends, or would their old instincts get the better of them and make enemies from every market they visited?
The wind was blowing from their back, carrying the smell of goblin and dwarf into the treetops, where Elves hid amidst the leaves in the dim light of an overcast sky.
The elves grew quiet as the goblin horde approached, looking on apprehensively at their treehome's guests. Finding them prooved troublesome, but Cog was patient in his search.
After some time, Cog finally found a tree whose inhabitants were awake and noisy.
The Elves were metalcrafters and armourers with hoarse voices and stress from their heavy workloads. Cog found it strange, thinking about how many Elven metalworkers he had encountered since he left the mountainhome.
Cog swung from one branch to another, eagre to introduce himself to these intriguing metalworkers, but misplaced faith in the layout of the tree proved to be his undoing.
It's not natural for a Dwarf to be climbing trees on a good day... And Cog came tumbling down, his compatriots scattering to avoid getting crushed under the heavily armoured Dwarf and his backpack full of mangoes.
After an embarassed climb back up the tree, Cog successfully made his way back to the Elves and became acquainted with an Elf called Vaci Nelaravadane, who was an armourer by trade and the head of his family.
Amusingly, Vaci had already heard of the exploits of the Cogoblin army, with words of their heroic deeds spreading across the forest home. Cog breathed a sigh of relief - his ragtag refugees and the elves could get along, and markets could probably be visited in peace.
Cog and Vaci exchanged stories whilst the goblins and Elves conversed and exchanged values through treetop arguments. Vaci spoke of how the surroundings were fairly docile, with everything in a half day's travel being the hunting ground of barn owls, with the only dangers of note being the shadow women & a hydra which occasionally stole buffalo. Most useful, was the knowledge that there was a significant market forest called Bearvoiced half a day's travel southeast of here, which boasted trade routes with no less than sixteen villages. It was said to be older than history itself.
The topic drifted to local legends, like the battle between the beige-conqueror moth and the bronze colossus which was said to have resulted in the destruction of Glossclocks in the year 31; eventually Cog began his own tale-spinning, telling the story of as many people who joined him and their fates until drowsiness forced him to sleep.
Indulging in the hospitality of the Elves, the gang traveled south to Apesaxes, Fancysoothed and Howlships, all large forest homes embedded in the Purple Jungle and the Hills of Honesty.
Behind schedule and impeded by the thawing of the mighty river, the army of the respectful steel made camp opposite mighty Bearvoiced, planning their next move.
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Topic: Cog the Blind Drunk (Read 49351 times)