Their arrival at the cave had not gone unnoticed; Chance would have been worried if it had been. Two kobolds approached them, one being the elderly Anyar and the second Yrip’s older brother, Yavyar. Yavyar was carrying a spear with him, large for a kobold but more like a javelin for anyone larger. Chance had not seen the kobolds carrying weapons before that were heavier than a knife, and even then they were seen more as tools than weapons.
There was a great deal of weariness as the kobolds approached, eyeing off the two men who were with Chance suspiciously. Nervous and jumpy at the best of times, neither looked happy about the intrusion, with Yavyar gripping tight to his spear with both hands, partially lowered as if expecting trouble.
“You are back early,” Anyar stated, speaking to Chance, but his eyes not once venturing his way, all attention on the two men.
“Things happened,” Chance responded. “It will not be for long, I hope. I am surprised that you didn’t trap the path leading here.”
Anyar looked across to Yavyar, who frowned at the comment. The little kobold did not look happy. “We had considered it, but felt that it was unwise to do so for when you returned. We didn’t want to have any accidents.” By the reactions of the two, Chance got the impression that Yavyar had wanted to do so but had been persuaded somehow not to.
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” Chance replied. “After seeing the last lot, I wouldn’t want to encounter any without warning.”
Chance’s answer did seem to mollify Yavyar a bit, but not entirely, as he still kept a wary eye on the humans and his grip on the spear did not relax at all.
“How are things faring here?” Chance asked.
“Nothing has really changed since you left,” Anyar replied with a shrug. “It has only been a few days. A little less disciple, perhaps, but that is to be expected. We have settled in and are keeping things going, but a lot of the hard labour has ended.”
Chance chuckled at that. It had been hard enough to keep the kobolds interested when they were here; he didn't envy Anyar trying to keep them focused when he was gone. “Well, we may need them to do a bit more for a little while,” he said. “These are Daf and Ryvan. They and a dozen or so others will be settling nearby, at the old goblin camp.”
“Where?” Yavyar asked.
“The place the stinkies camped at,” Chance explained.
“Smellies,” Yrip corrected.
Anyar looked a little troubled by the idea. “That is rather close.”
“It can't be helped,” Chance told him. “These men need a place to stay, and I, as Guardian of Azval Stalvaq, have offered them a place here. For that end, we are going to need your help, in providing them food for a while, as well as supplies from our camp to help them get themselves established here.”
“For how long?" Yavyar asked.
“As long as it takes,” Chance told him. “In time they will be able to provide for themselves, but it is my hope that in time we will have a community here, everyone a part of it, helping to provide for it.”
“Just what is it that you want us doing?” Daf asked. “You have spoken about us working here, but never said what it is you want from us.”
Chance went to speak but stopped, closing his mouth, uncertain just what to say. He had not made a decision on that part, didn't know what to do with them and had not really thought too much about it. That was well beyond any expertise he had; he had never been a leader, a decision-maker for others, and Craghand seemed to offer no clues as to that either.
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“Well, for now,” he finally said, “We need to get you set up, putting together a proper camp for you to live in, to establish garden plots so that you are able to feed yourselves, alongside the bounties of the forest. When that is done, we should have some better ideas.”
“Not all of us were farmers,” Daf told him, “And of those that were, not all may want to return to that life again.”
Chance nodded. “Understandable. There will always be a need to protect this place,” he went on, a thought coming to him. “I am not always going to be here, and so will need others to keep a watch out in my place.”
Daf smiled faintly. “We might be able to manage that.”
“Good,” Chance replied. “It is a start.”
Settlement Enlarged
The message came abruptly to Chance, almost startling him given how unexpected it was. What was that about? He couldn't recall any previous mentions of settlements or that kind of thing.
“Anyar,” he said, “Could you see to it that some initial supplies are made ready, enough to last for a couple of days at least. I need to check on something.”
That earned him puzzled looks from both the men and the kobolds.
“Of course, Guardian,” Anyar replied. Chance gave him a nod and walked off. He headed inside the cave, among the wild growth that grew there alongside the magical pool, to where his hut had been built. He needed time to read the parchment, out of the way, where none could see. While his friends knew of it, and in some form what it did, he didn't want others to know. Once inside this hut, he took it out and inspected it; a new portion had been added to it.
Settlement Core: Azval Stalvaq
Population: 53 kobolds
Morale: Good
Supplies: Decent
Habitation: Decent
Resources: Farm (simple), Fish Pool (Special)
Special: Druidic Focal Point.
Expansion Point One:
Population: 14 Humans
Morale: Poor
Supplies: Poor
Habitation: Poor
Resources: None.
Well, at least he could keep an eye on what was going on while he was away, in a rough manner of speaking. Not that he could do anything if matters turned bad. Not that the situation was great to start with, at least for the human part of it. That would have to be fixed fast, somehow, and fast. Giving them something to do, to aid for, that was the key. Making them productive and useful.
He almost had to laugh at the thought; he, Chance, talking about making someone productive. Where had the old Chance gone? The one who never thought or planned, or was all that productive? It was all madness. This place was changing him, and if - when - he got home, what exactly would happen to him?
He trucked the parchment away, heading back out of the hut, into the cave. He almost bumped into a wide-eyed kobold youngster as he did. There were a few of them around, a mischievous lot; he had been the same when young. And not so young. Kids needed time to play.
“Sorry, Guardian,” the kid squeaked.
Chance laughed and went down on one knee so that he could look the child more in the eye. “No worries. What is your name?” he asked.
“Vasyen,” the kid replied nervously.
“Do you like it here, Yasyen?”
The child nodded as he licked at his lips. “Yes, yes, very much so. Plenty of food to eat. Safe. Nothing eats us. Can play and run.”
Chance smiled and patted the kobold kid on his shoulder. “That is good to hear. I am glad you like it here.” He rose up to his feet again. “Enjoy it.”
He headed off again, back outside to rejoin the others, the kid’s words in his mind. He had been pleased to live in such a simple place, to simply be fed, to be safe. What kind of life had the kobolds been living before if this was an enviable upgrade?
It didn’t bear thinking about and only renewed his determination that he was going to see to it that they were safe.
A couple of boxes of supplies were in the hands of Daf and Ryvan when he returned; dried fish and meat, fresh vegetables and fruits, seeds for planting and some tools as well, to help with building. The two groups still stood a little bit apart, not speaking, not even really looking at each other. They had done what Chance had asked and were doing no more.
“All well, Guardian?” Anyar asked when Chance stood among them again.
“Yes,” Chance replied, looking them over. “For now.”