Goblin Diaries, Vol 14: The Swamp of Ozua
From the 10/18/24 Newsletter:
Morning,
26th Day of Winter Moon, 1218th Year, Human Age of Magic …
This morning, I awoke with the sun, a free
goblin. The peat-covered ground in the copse of cypress trees in which I’ve
made a temporary home was an infinitely more comfortable bed than the cold
stone floor of my dungeon cell, and to actually see the light of day, knowing
it is indeed daytime and not just a guess, was so very comforting.
And I have confirmed the date by way of a
conversation I overheard from one of the search parties that passed by in the
night. (I was right, by the way, and I’ll pat myself on the back for my
cleverness in measuring time in the dungeon by the cycle of meals provided.)
Two young men in the search party were discussing plans for a celebration on
the eve of the new year, one reminding the other it was only two days hence.
So, there should be no need to backtrack my journal and correct any of the date
entries.
I’ll need to relocate my campsite soon,
though. With the number of boats plying the swamp, and the intensity of the
search, it will be difficult to camouflage my position if I stay in one place
too long. Luckily, the Great Swamp of Ozua is the perfect environment for a
goblin to travel about undetected, and there is plenty of food available. I
dare not make a cookfire quite yet—it would be a beacon to searchers,
especially at night—but raw fish is preferable to me, anyway, and they are
plentiful.
In fact, there is a particular fish
here—the locals call it a bowfin—that I could eat daily for the rest of my life
and never get tired of. It is much like the bula fish of my home world, but
twice as tasty. Humans don’t like them, but I swear the gods of Urgule do not
feast as well as I have this past day. If I ever get back to civilization, even
if it’s only to Port Arleanne, I intend to open a goblin restaurant where I can
serve bowfin as its specialty.
Once Mazuom gives up the search for me, I
think my safest route back to Port Arleanne is to make my way north along the
eastern edge of the Darinian Mountain range until I reach the East Road. In the
meantime, I’ll enjoy my freedom—and all the bowfin I can eat.
