Having a reached a decision as a group, you set out towards the place where you recall the fire during the night. The sun rises, gradually eating away the darkness, and soon in the rapidly brightening grey you can see the remains of a camp: a circle of burnt grass surrounding a meagre pile of ashes. As you approach you can smell the foul stench of an uncovered latrine pit. Giving the area a wide birth you climb a nearby rise and soon you can see the pair of goblins mounted on their wolf. They see you as well and approach, initially at a run amid wild cries, but this slows when they see Deneve. Stopping 10ft away the rider places a hand over his right eye and tilts his head in greeting: clearly he does not speak the language of the drow, nor does he expect Deneve to speak his own tongue.<br/><br/>Having greeted the presumed priestess the goblin rider glances his eyes across the slaves, measuring each of them up from tip to toes. A smile shows clean but crooked teeth, ending in points. His green skin is warty and his eyes are dark, making the iris indistinguishable from the pupil. His is armed with a short, curved blade and a sling, along which a pouch big enough to hold four small stones. Around his waist a thin part of arms are locked as the other goblin struggles to remain on the back of the wolf, the saddle being designed for only one.<br/><br/>If the goblin expects any particular response from Deneve he does not show it, instead gesturing for her to follow. Believing your disguise to be intact for now and not wishing to give them reason to be suspicious you follow them. The goblins mount a ridge and point down. 50ft below a female elf stubbles along on tired feat, her body covered in multiple wounds surrounded with caked blood that mar her coppery skin where it isn't covered in thick hide armour, a darker grey than most seen on the island. Trailing in one hand is a large battle axe with, although the elf looks like she could wield the weapon properly if she wished, even in her weakened state. The goblins jeer, laughing at her torment. For a moment you feel this may be a test, but then you see this is not the case. The goblins, despite their mirth, are intimidated by the axe, and merely wish the drow to deal with the potentially dangerous intruder on their lands, giving her the opportunity to gain a new slave in the process. Dazed from hunger, fatigue or something else, it takes the elf a moment to even notice that she is being watched. At first she is confused, but at the sight of Deneve her eyes harden.<br/><br/>Xen<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">You have 8 hit points, and whatever physical and mental penalties you feel are appropriate given your condition.</div></div>