For at least the first few minutes of Marcon's watch, the young traveler sets about gathering what firm saplings might be nearby, and combining them with the rope and torches on hand for some standing lights to be set by the cave entrance. Two, in fact, on opposing sides just to be safe; assuming it is even possible to begin with. Regardless, whenever his focus happens to slip during the next couple of hours, Marcon silently reflects on the prior afternoon events.

Though aside from a brief chuckle over the thought of maybe -- MAYBE having not scared off people for a change, the rest leaves him morose enough to always try escaping into the task at hand to stop thinking anything at all.

Sildar shoots a confused look at Vanzaren: "So, you want to...keep them alive?" The middle-aged human can scarcely understand the concept and scratches his head as he eyes Spit with suspicion at first but then curiosity as the idea sinks in.

At the mention of the words "...keep them alive..." Spit begins to nod his head furiously. "YES! ALIVE!" The goblin exclaims as he picks up his rickety shortbow, (causing everyone to instinctively reach for their weapons,) but then makes a show of breaking the weapon in half over his knee and throwing the pieces at Garet's feet. He then falls to his knees before Sildar, spits a disgusting wad of snot on the toe of the human's boot and begins to try to polish it clean with his bare fingers.

Sildar looks up at the group completely mortified. He stammers through the beginning of several statements, but his words escape him.

Vazaren gently taps the goblin on the back. "How about we save that for when we have proper cloth and cleaning supplies. And yes," he looks up at Sildar, "Alive. They're goblins, they work for whoever the strongest person is. That was Klarg, and we drove Klarg off. Now we're the strongest, so they'll listen to us. What's the harm in bringing them along?"

Having already been down this road once, Nigel simply groans and rolls over. He'll deal with this at a later time. Besides the thought of possibly exchanging them for something in the future intrigues him. Who knows we may encounter something that he can throw them at as a distraction. He drifts off with the comforting placation that just because he can't kill them doesn't mean he has to save them.

"If ya'll 'bout done back there, can one of ya take over for a hot minute. Gonna go and grab that otha one, least they get any funny ideas in the night." Marcon tosses out the request to others, having finally been drawn out of his own thoughts. Whether someone opts to go along or temporarily take over watch, the determined ex-rancher still makes their way to a hopefully still unconscious Stopit. Though if they are conscious, so long as they are bound still, he'll just toss them onto a shoulder, and head back to the chamber.

Confused Garet in goblin 'ok..small one..you don't have to do it..just be nice to us..and listen to others'

In common: 'I'll better bring back the second Goblin' 

Garet accompanies Marcon on his way back to the eastern section of the cave complex where they left Stopit. Following the sound of the underground waterfall (and feeling their way through the dark,) the two arrive safely back in the chamber where Klarg made his stand...and lost. There they find the goblin, who had slipped his restraints, sleeping soundly by the fire which was barely a bed of embers by then, but glowed enough to illuminate Stopit's small frame. He had apparently gotten into some of the ambush loot, specifically a barrel of flour. The floor surrounding him was covered in fine white dust, as was most of his face.

The goblin begins to stir a few moments after Garet and Marcon approach, his nose apparently picking up the scent of something besides goblin cave...he wakes and looks up to see the friendly firbolg and his not-so-friendly companion. "Stopit make cake...does you wants some?" He extends a spindly hand cradling a disgusting mass of what Garet and Marcon can only assume is a mixture of raw flour and unfiltered cave water.

The hours pass uneventfully as the cook fires and torches begin to die down. Stopit sticks close to Garet throughout the night while Spit tries to balance a stick on his finger imitating Vanzaren's nimble dagger-play. Morning arrives (though no one could tell by the lack of available daylight) but the two goblins were promptly up and stirring before most of the others and they tried to make themselves appear useful by lighting a couple of torches and stoking the cook fires back to life.

Sildar addresses the party once everyone is awake: "Friends, I must insist we make haste for Phandalin. As promised, I will pay fifty gold pieces for a security escort, payable upon our arrival there. Gundren needs our help, if he still lives."

The party gathers their belongings and makes their way back to the cave entrance. Stopit and Spit look out from the mouth of the cave cautiously, but see no signs of Klarg or any other goblins. The group forms up outside and heads back down the trail to where they stashed the wagon, finding it completely undisturbed, hidden in the bushes off to the side of the Triboar Trail.

A few hours later, they begin to see the tops of buildings and houses peeking over the tree line. Sildar calls the wagon to a halt and turns to address the group: "Gentlemen, I fear we may experience some rather unpleasant encounters with the local townsfolk if you attempt to enter the city with a bugbear and two goblins by your side..." 

Ronk nods and begins rummaging through his gear. "Hang on, I have something for this..." He digs out his 'basket' again and sets it over his head. The bugbear adjusts it so a section with a slightly looser weave is in front of his face, giving him visibility but concealing his face, and ties the chinstrap to secure it. His identity hidden - at least in his mind - Ronk gives a satisfied nod. "I'm ready when you are."

Garet scratches his had "M..maybe we c..could hide them in c..cart?"

Marcon openly grimaced at the cake, and "politely" refused the offer. Though as if to make amends, he absolutely promises to teach Stopit some tastier recipes once they're on the road. He leaves it to Garet then --if not already done before -- to explain things.

One restful-ish night later and possible exchanging of coin later, and the human is happily marching along with the rest. "Well... ya ain't wrong 'bout that, Sir." He would later reply while looking over to the goblinoids. Seeing Ronk had himself covered, Marcon just snorts and shakes his head in amusement prior to turning on Garet. "Now I'd agree wit' ya, big blue. But.. if ya'll deliver'n this here stuff in town, it's gonna get tricky. But, I'm all fer trying." 

Marcon thumbs his chin. "In fact. If'n I can get my hands on some proper cutters, I could carve'm up a mask. What cha'll think. Think ya'll can pretend to be halflings or gnomes in town?" He asks Stopit and Spit.

"Well can't say I didn't see this coming. Looks like it's finally the end of the line for them. Always been better at dispatching them than hiding them anyway. "

Rigel says in ominous goblin, his hand falling to his dagger and axe as he takes a menacing step towards the pair. He stops abrubtly, his stern face softening into an amused smirk as the pair burst into the expected frantic response.

Switching to common, Rigel continues,

"Just turn them loose here to hide. We'll pick them back up on our way out. Their fate will be their own 'till we return. They will either survive and wait here for our return, be found and killed, or run off to a fate unknown. None of these results change our primary course or tasks at hand. Should you desire I can place a mark upon them that will make it easier for us to relocate them but then our time in town will be limited to an hour. Choose quickly, I'll waste no more time worrying for their well being. Ronk should be fine since he obviously had no trouble in Neverwinter"

With that Rigel turns quickly and continues the walk into town.

 "Actually," with a wave of his hand Vanzaren turns to the two goblins. "You two, Spit and Stopit yes? How good are you at being quiet and directing questions to someone else? You too Ronk. Might be easier to explain this way. Especially since... and I mean this in the least offensive way possible, a small town like this might actually try to get a better look at people hiding under buckets. I have an idea that requires cooperation and a bit of acting. Well, mostly likely a lot of acting," he shurgs. "I'm hoping that most of it will fall to me."

Spit and Stopit stare blankly at the half-elf with mouths agape. Though the young wizard had finished talking, the pair of goblins apparently had not finished listening...

...several awkward moments of silence elapse accompanied by an equally awkward impromptu-staring contest between Vanzaren and his goblinoid pupils.

Finally, Spit offers a response in a voice barely above a whisper: "We good at quiet...see?" Then the two proceeded to offer a demonstration of their stealthing skills by taking turns hiding from one another behind the wizard's legs.

"Well, ain't they just a precious lil' duo." Marcon deadpans, but smirked after a moment. "I'm liking you two more and more." He turns to the wizard of the party with a more serious expression. "No offense to anybody 'ere, but... I don't imagine many are good with acting. Just say'n. But 'ey, sounds like ya got an interest'n plan cook'n, 'nd I'm eager to see how it'll turn out. How long ya need? Or do think ya can do whatever yer planning on da fly?" 

Ronk answers Vanzaren's question by shrugging, giving a noncommittal grunt and pointing a Rigel in a universal "I don't know, ask him" gesture.

Vanzaren closes his eyes and says something under his breath that sounds a lot like, "Tymora help me," before opening them again and looking down at the two goblins. He eyes them for a few moments before pulling a case out of his backpack and pulling a few random articles from it. He thinks for a few moments before taking a flower broach and a pin with a large butterfly and pinning them to the goblin's... tunics.

"That'll do... for now. We might need to get better clothes made for them," he turns to Ronk. "Please take the basket off your head Ronk, it's unslightly," he pulls out a costume he took with him from the circus and pulls that, rather gaudy, hat off of it. He tosses it to Ronk, "Put that on, you'll at least look like a performer with it on. As for the rest of you, well just play along. I need to change." And with that Vanzaren retreats to the forest to put on the rest of the costume.

When he returns to the party, he shoves his tunic and normal pants into his bag. "Alright then, here's the plan. I'm a travelling side-show performer here to preform with my goblins and bugbear. We happened to join your group as we were headed towards Phadalin. So heads up, look confident. Spit and Stopit your job is to not talk to anyone. If they try to talk to you just grunt. Understood?" he eyes them. "And if we're lucky we might get paid for our endeavors. Or at least get to spend the night in an inn for free. Just remember, the more confident you look the more people will not question us."

Garet shakes his head 'w..what will be m..my r..role?'

"Hmm..." Vanzaren looks Garet up and down. "Puff out your chest and narrow your brow. Try to look angry." Vanzaren mimics what he means.

Both goblins simultaneously perform their best "grunt" while they point rigidly at Garet. Sildar wipes his brow in disbelief at what he is seeing: "Goblin circus...I've seen it all now. Let's move soon my friends, Gundren won't last long at the hands of the bugbear king. I shudder to think at what methods they are using to extract information from him about the entrance to Wave Echo Cave. I'm going to go on ahead of you all. Come find me at the Stonehill Inn once you're done making your delivery to Barthen's Provisions and...whatever else it is you plan to do..."