Stream

A gentle stream flows through the grassland. The water is visibly cool in this warm air, the fish clearly visible through the glass like surface. Rushes dance in the gentle wind on the riverbank, somewhat obscuring the beach. Goblins wade knee deep in the water, spears in hand, ready to strike at a moments notice, their straw hats shielding them from the sun. There's a surprisingly jovial atmosphere despite the recent happening. Perhaps it is simply impossible to be down in such weather and surroundings.

The path from the village halts at the rivers shallows. There is no need for a bridge since it is possible to skip across from stone to stone, and even if one was to slip; which a few of the goblins present have done so, their soaked bodies giving them away; it is still shallow enough for a goblin to wade across. Not that it would be unpleasant to fall into the water on such a day. Across the river, the path continues northwards. The grass there seems even greener than the lush emerald village-side.