The Phandalin Chronicles

Bozzlewick examines the strange goblin.  He runs several theories through his mind.  What he can see though is that the crystalline growths are not attached to the goblin like armor, jewelry, or a parasitic fungus. They are growing from within the creature itself. The crystals emerge from the bone beneath the skin, particularly around the skull, spine, shoulders, and joints. In several places, the goblin's skeleton appears to have partially transformed into the same mineral-like substance. More troubling, there are signs that the goblin lived with these growths for many years. The surrounding tissue is healthy and well-integrated, suggesting the creature was born with a predisposition toward the condition or inherited it from previous generations. The growths do not resemble any disease, infection, or natural mutation you have ever encountered. Whatever caused them altered the goblin's biology at a fundamental level.

You also notice faint traces of the crystals in younger bone tissue and around the teeth. This was not a recent affliction. The condition appears to have been passed down through bloodlines for generations, becoming part of the creature's natural development. Curiously, the crystals seem to follow no natural pattern of growth. They ignore muscle attachments, blood flow, and structural stresses that normally shape bone. It is almost as if they grew according to some other set of biological rules entirely.

Ungrim pockets the coins the tiefling gives him. "We'll use those to buy some food when we reach Phandalin." The dwarf grunts as Nyxaris states his indifference to the fate of the captives and the safety of the wagon. "At least you're honest. I'll give you that."
The dwarf eyes the goliath with curiosity as he seems to heal his wounds simply by pouring some strange liquid over them. "That could come in handy later, Thalas."

Before answering the goliath's question, Ungrim pays close attention to the results of Bozzlewick's examination of the crystalline growths. "That is indeed troubling," the dwarf adds at the end. "It seems that we have another reason to check the eating cave of those stinking gobbos."

Ungrim taps the shaft of his greataxe against the ground.
"I say it's time to take those gobbos out for a stroll." The dwarf grins. "They'll stay lashed, of course. I'll hold the end of the rope for one of them. Will you take the other one, Thalas?"

Unfortunately for Nyxaris, there was no confirmation from the gnome in response to the initial query, one way or the other, as Bozzlewick had become fully engrossed in his studies. Nor does any glance over the shoulder to spy his writings yield much, as even those who might understand gnomish would find themselves confounded by the mixture shorthand and seeming nonsensical connections drawn between points. But eventually, his hands still as two uncomfortable but potential conclusions come to mind. 

"... no... No, no, we... w-we need more proof. Some sample of their living arrangement. Some.. some-..." He stops to close his eyes, take a deep breath through the nose, held it for a moment, then finally let it all out. If anyone asked what he had been discovered, the most Bozzlewick volunteers are that their traits had been inherited. Beyond this, he refused to share more, citing a need for more data. To that end...

 "I'd suggest asking them where the 'strange' goblins came from, and if over the years they've noticed similar stones growing from weird places on their kin." Bozzlewick abruptly chimed in, before he took out a knife and went to the bloody work of cutting free both bone and crystal samples to study further at a later date. Though lacking in a bone saw or acid capable of stripping bone clean, the gnome settled for the more crude methods of taking a dagger to flesh, and the careful application of his light hammer to bone until he had enough fragments to fill a vial.  "But, I take it we're out of time for further questions, or they can be done as we walk. So, give me but a moment, and I'll be right with you all." He added. 

(OOC: Adjusted my post to better compliment Wolfy's post below it. Because Bozzlewick originally hadn't vocalized his conclusions.) 

Nyxaris watches Bozzlewick work with the same calm intensity he gives to ancient tomes. The gnome’s excitement is a bright, frenetic thing — all quick breaths and scribbled notes — a stark contrast to Nyxaris’s stillness. Yet he does not interrupt. He lets the gnome’s mind race its course. When Bozzlewick finally speaks his conclusions aloud, Nyxaris inclines his head, the gesture slow and deliberate. “A lineage of corruption… carried in the bone,” he murmurs, voice low and resonant, “not inflicted, but inherited.”

He hesitates — a rare thing for him — then steps closer. His hand rises, pale and steady, and he places it gently upon Bozzlewick’s shoulder. The touch is light, almost ceremonial, but unmistakably intentional. “Your insight is sound, Mr. Boulderdash.” he says, each word chosen with care. “We will uncover the truth of this. Whatever shaped this creature did so with purpose… and patience. Such forces do not reveal themselves easily.” His gaze drifts to the crystalline corpse, then to the bound goblins, then north toward the shadowed trail. “Your theory of the Underdark is not without merit.” he continues, voice soft as falling ash. “This mutation follows no natural law. No surface-born logic. It grows according to rules older… and deeper.” Bozzlewick begins cutting bone and crystal free, and Nyxaris watches — not recoiling, but with a faint, unreadable tension in his posture. The work is necessary. But it is not pleasant. 

He turns to Ungrim, eyes pale and reflective. “May I request that you ask them what they know of this altered one. Whether such creatures walk among them… or haunt the places they fear to tread. This is no simple goblin raid. Something else moves beneath it. And we would be wise to learn its name.” Nyxaris folds his hands behind his back, cloak whispering against the ground.

If allowed to work in peace or aided in some way, Bozzlewick later returns the favor by pulling out a smaller hammer from his tinker tools and a bunch of scrap metal. What follows after can only best be described as some Macguyver levels of shenanigans... if MacGyver also had a touch of magic at his disposal! For within seconds, the metal is reshaped into a pair of manacles. "Here! For the goblins. It'll only last for roughly a day, but that should be more than enough time." He assures while tossing the manacles over to Ungrim. 

(OOC: Adding this tidbit because I just realized how they'd changed Tinker's Magic! He also created a vial to store his bone and crystal samples, so he's down to one use left)

"Right you are Kainanahu! I've got this kiori!" {= scum, rat, rodent} Thalas says to Ungrim as picks up one end of the rope which is tied to the goblin and sets off uncaring whether the goblin is able to maintain its feet or is in fact being dragged.

After returning to the road once again, Princess Akra stands for a moment and observes that the others have the goblin captive situation well in hand. She begins looking around for Rocky, and not seeing him, sets off back up the road to look for her attendant.

"Rocky!" she calls.

The kobold steps out from his hiding place and begins walking toward her.

"There you are," she says with a contented sigh. "I believe the coast is clear, as they say." She turns and walks back beside him. "I tried to catch one of the creatures that ran away, but was almost caught in a trap, and it distracted me, and I lost the trail. Thalas came after me — wasn't that nice? — and so we returned together. They caught one of the creatures and are interrogating it. I hope they can find out what happened here."

The princess continues forward to get near the group and listen to what is being said. Rocky stays back by the wagon, not quite sure the coast is as clear as Akra thinks it is.

Ungrim catches the manacles Bozzlewick tosses to him and, without much regard for the goblin, forcefully snaps them onto its wrists.
The dwarf spends some time moving the cart a little way off the path and tying the horses to nearby trees. "As we'll be away for a while, it's better to leave it out of the way."
Ungrim turns to address the dragonborn and, gesturing toward Rocky, says, "Princess, have your kobold guard the cart while we're off, will ya?"
Without waiting for Akra's reply, the dwarf stomps towards the manacled goblin, adjusts the coil of rope binding it tightly by the right ankle, then pulls a handaxe from his belt and points the blade at the creature.
"Take us to that eating cave of yours!" Ungrim barks. "If you or your stinky companion attempt, even once, to trick us or flee, it will be the end of you."
The dwarf gives the rope a sharp tug. "What do you know about that strange mutated gobbo? It was even uglier than the two of you. Was it always like that?"

OOC: @DM Ungrim translates for the group the whole conversation between him and the goblins.

The two captured goblins exchange nervous glances before one finally blurts out:

"Not us! Not us! Them other goblins! Wrong goblins!"

The second goblin nods frantically.

"Big heads. Long heads. Got shiny green rocks growing outta their skin. Eyes glow in dark. Not natural."

The first goblin shudders.

"Sometimes they come on raids. Kill travelers. Laugh at nothing. Then leave. Don't take orders from Klarg. Don't take orders from anybody."

"They hear things," the other goblin whispers. "Talk to air. Talk to caves. Sometimes all stop moving at once like somebody talking in their heads."

The first goblin points toward the hills and dense woods.

"Came from deep places. Under Places. Bad places."

Both goblins fall silent for a moment before one adds in a trembling voice:

"They ain't really goblins anymore."

You can't get much more out of them.  They can't provide any more information than what they have said. They both promise to be good and lead you to their cave.  

The party pulls the wagon off the Triboar Trail and conceals it among the trees, well out of sight from passing travelers. Gundren and Sildar's horses are easily coaxed in and tethered beside the wagon, ensuring they won't wander. Rocky the kobold eagerly volunteers to remain behind and guard the supplies, proudly assuring everyone that nothing will go missing under his watch.

With their preparations complete, the party sets out along the goblins' trail. Ungrim marches ahead with one captive goblin, while Thalas escorts the other. The towering goliath's long strides force his prisoner into an awkward half-run; more than once the goblin is nearly lifted off the ground as it scrambles to keep pace, muttering complaints and fearful curses under its breath.

The trail winds north through dense woodland for nearly five miles before finally ending at the base of a steep hillside. There, hidden among tangled briars and thorny brush, lies the entrance to a cave. A shallow stream trickles from the darkness within, cutting across the mouth of the cavern before disappearing into the forest. On the far side of the stream, a narrow, dry path winds through the thickets and leads into the gloom beyond.

"Do you make any sense of what they are saying?" Ungrim asks. "Whatever those big, long-headed creatures are, they may indeed be coming from the Underdark or somewhere near it. Nothing good has ever come out of that place." The dwarf grunts as the group reaches the cavern entrance at the base of the hillside. "Still, it may make for a worthy chapter in my saga."

"Those two could cause unnecessary ruckus inside. It may be better to tie them to two separate trees while we explore the cave." Ungrim gestures at the nearby trees.