The caravan of victorious goblins moved down the road and into the forest, making the two day trek to where the roads met. Upon their arrival Sigrid was surprised to find that the original pilgrims were waiting for them; she had thought they’d be at least another two or three days away.

As the two groups joined she sought out El and Oict.

“Grandmother,” El said, giving her a brief hug, followed up by Oict doing the same. “We’re glad to see you got them all out safely.”

Sigrid didn’t comment on that, Goddesses didn’t admit to being afraid they might not have been able to pull something off, and she wasn’t going to smite anyone for doubts they might have had, so she moved on.

“How did you all get here so fast? You should be almost two days away by my math,” she said, looking around.

“Skree of Clan Hall has crafted a [Totem of Speed],” Oict replied, happy enough to change the subject himself. “He convinced a spirit of air that it’d be interesting to travel with people for a time. He says it must be freed when we reach or destination, but it’s more than doubled our daily movement rate.”

Sigrid smiled warmly and nodded. “Excellent. How have he and Anx been?”

“Well,” El replied. “Anx has always had many friends among her age group and that’s only grown since her adoption into Clan Hall; there still lingers some stigma against the clanless though it’s greatly muted these days, now that she has been properly clanned that hesitancy has disapepared. Skree thought… between taking care of himself and his sister that boy has never had much time for people who couldn’t benefit him directly. I think that’s starting to change though. The gatherers seems much more friendly toward him, and I hope that’s more than just because his class is beneficial to them in some way.”

The grandmother nodded. “Let’s keep an eye on that then. If they want to befriend my grandson that’s good. If they want to use him they can get lost.” she said fiercely.

The two goblins chuckled and nodded.

“How’s everyone been doing for food? We brought more than a little with us from Ritherhithe but we’ll need to make it last as long as we can…”

Here their faces turned down slightly. “It’s not great. No one is starving yet, but dizziness and disorientation from walking on empty stomachs has begun to crop up. I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw some fainting soon too,” Oict explained.

“Alright, a full meal tonight, and then rationing from tomorrow onward,” Sigrid declared. “But we keep the gatherers and hunters in full swing and see if we can’t round up any more from the newcomers. With the new totems how long do you think it’ll take us to reach Gritmere?”

“If we can stretch the power of the totem over the entire column? Ten, maybe twelve days,” El suggested.

“Any more cities before we reach it?” She inquired.

The two shook their heads in unison. “No,” Oict spoke. “In fact the road is likely to start getting much worse from here on out, which may slow us down, bringing that estimate up. Gritmere hasn’t really been visited in any serious capacity in perhaps three or four years. Ever since the artifact hunters stopped going there. Oh a few adventuring parties still go out every now and then, so the monster population probably is pretty well trimmed back, but there won’t be anyone maintaining roads or the like.”

Sigrid gave a nod. “Alright then, I think that covers everything I need to know. Let’s get a hot meal in everyone and bed down for the night. Tomorrow we can get back to it.”

Breaking away from the two clan leaders, Sigrid walked through the encampment until she found Skree, still in his trademark clothes, or rather lack there of, staring down a large block of dead wood, tiny knife in hand.

“You know,” she said, taking a small, leather wrapped bundle out of the bag she’d recently attached to her belt. “These might be more appropriate for that task.”

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“Huh?” Skree said, looking over, then down at the leather folder she was offering. Tentatively and with a look of wariness he took it from her hands and opened it, revealing a series of used, but well cared for carving tools. It had been a stroke of luck, finding a carpenter among the goblins of Ritherhithe who’d been willing to part with them.

The young goblins eyes went wide and for a moment he just stared at the tools. He then carefully folded them up, walked forward, and wrapped his skinny arms around Sigrid’s waist. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, voice devoid of the fake yokel accent he liked to play up. Smiling, she leaned down to return the hug.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, and then just stood there until he finally released her some minutes later and stepped back.

“So, what are you making now?” she inquired.

Skree looked at her seeming slightly embarrassed. “Fertility Totem,” he mumbled.

Sigrid snorted. She knew exactly what it was for, but couldn’t let the opportunity pass. “Oh? Is there anyone in particular you’re hoping to use it on and does she know?” the old woman asked, voice totally innocent.

Skree went purply-brown with embarrassment, a natural consequence of red blood and green skin Sigrid supposed, and he glared at the woman who had, somehow, become his grandmother. “‘S fer crops!” he half shouted.

Sigrid grinned and Skree just continued his glare until he gave out a little huff that may, possibly, have also been a laugh.

“So fertility totems for crops. To help them grow faster once we’ve stopped and established ourselves I assume?” she asked.

Skree nodded. “Yeah, totems for crops, ta keep pests away, ta protect areas. I’ve all sorts of ideas. Wish I had more time to work on them. Wish my [Skill] level was higher, could make everything work better.”

Sigrid shook her head. “No use thinking like that love. We can only work with what we’ve got and your totems are already doing plenty; we’ve nearly doubled our speed thanks to the speed totem and the water totem is going to be very important now that we’re parting from the river. Worry only about what you can do, and leave the what ifs and the maybes be.”

Skree looked up at her for a few moments, his hand reaching for the charm about his neck but stopping halfway then, hesitantly, returning to his side.”Okay,” he said softly, then took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, seeming to close off slightly, signaling a return to his less vulnerable state. “Anyway. They say how long its gonna be for we get there?”

“Ten to twelve days,” Sigrid replied. “I’m excited to see what you can come up with. Hopefully by the time we reach Gritmere you’ll have enough totems to establish several farms and then…” she trailed off and shook her head even she realized it was late in the season to be planting. “Well, we’ll see what we see,”

Skree nodded. “I guess so,” he muttered, opening the tools back up and selecting one, before he got to work on the piece of wood before him.

Sigrid just watched for a time as Skree sculpted; a very respectable fertility figure appearing under his artistic fingers. It was amazing how fast he worked, and with what precision; there had to be [Skill] malarky at work as she was certain real wood carving took much longer without power tools.

Eventually dinner was served, a fine stew made of root vegetables, what fresh game had been caught today, and dried jerky the Ritherhithe goblins had brought with them. She, Anx, and Skree all shared the meal, after which she tucked Anx into her bedroll and told her a rousing rendition of The Three Little Pigs.

Eventually Anx fell asleep, and Skree joined her, leaving Sigrid alone by the small fire. She stared into the embers, her mind filled with turmoil. Who was she to lead these people? They had followed her willingly, though not without some convincinging, but where to? A ruined city on the promise of an inheritance from their grandmothers? Even with the new supplies they had at best two or three months of food before starvation set in and there couldn’t possibly be enough game to support nearly fifteen hundred goblins through the winter. Had she led these people to their doom?

She glanced at Anx, the tiny girl sleeping blissfully nearby. She’d done it to prevent some very bad things from happening to a very young girl and she couldn’t imagine Anx had been the only one endangered, so she’d do it again in a heartbeat. But still… what could she do?

Silently contemplating, she took out her spindle and began to spin the silvery threads of fate once more. The thread was longer this time, and a little lumpy, but that was okay; lumps were just fate’s way of keeping you on your toes. She spun her hopes for these, her new grandchildren. Her dreams for their success; her desires for their future. When she was finally done hours had passed and morning sun was peaking through the canopy and around her spindle was perhaps two feet of lumpy, silvery fate-thread.

Carefully detaching the thread she looked at it, and then released it. Like a living thing the cord bucked, twisted and spun; unwinding its fibers in a mad rush for release. Silvery threads went spiraling outward, caught on a violent, invisible breeze that blew them across the entire encampment, one for every goblin. Where they landed fate was changed, subtly but indelibly shaped by a grandmother’s desires.

“It’ll have to be enough,” she murmured.