The weight of Roland's question hung in the air, a desperate plea for a solution, a lifeline in a storm of uncertainty. Captain Oswald, his face etched with exhaustion and the strain of constant vigilance, met Roland's gaze, his shoulders slumping slightly with a mixture of regret and apology.

  "I wish I had better news, Sir Roland," Oswald said, his voice heavy. "But traveling south through Tallenwood... it's not something we do often. The established trails, the ones we use for trade and patrols, they all head roughly south, yes, but they're also the most likely routes the Goblin King's army would take. To use them now would be... suicidal."

  He shook his head, a gesture of frustration. "I'm afraid the only path I know of, the only safe path, is the one you've already ruled out."

  A heavy silence descended upon the group. The prospect of facing the full might of the Goblin King's army, with only five of them, was unthinkable. Their mission, their hopes of reaching the elves, seemed to crumble before them, trapped between a rock and a hard place.

  It was Jett, the quiet scout, who broke the silence. His voice, usually soft and reserved, carried an unexpected note of urgency. "Captain," he said, stepping forward, "do you know of a river, about two hours' travel on foot after entering Tallenwood from here? A river that flows south?"

  Oswald blinked, surprised by the question. "A river? There are streams, of course, small tributaries, but nothing I'd call a major river suitable for travel... Why do you ask?"

  Jett hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "I... I've heard rumours. From traders, mostly. Talk of a river, hidden deep in the forest, that runs south. I never paid it much mind, dismissed it as a tall tale. But... if it exists, if it's navigable, it might be our only option."

  Oswald's expression shifted from scepticism to a glimmer of hope. "I can't say I know of this river myself," he admitted. "But I can certainly inquire. We have hunters and fishermen who know Tallenwood better than anyone. They might have heard something, seen something..."

  Without further delay, Oswald dispatched a soldier to summon any local hunters or fishermen who might be present in Sharwood. The town, though battered, was still a hub of activity, and it wasn't long before the soldier returned, accompanied by a somewhat dishevelled figure.

  The man, introduced as Herbert, was a fisherman by trade, though his current state suggested he hadn't been near a boat in quite some time. He reeked of stale liquor and fish, accompanied by a somewhat dishevelled figure with a scraggly beard and clothes that looked slept in, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like a man who had found solace, or perhaps oblivion, in the bottom of a bottle, a common enough sight in these troubled times. It was clear that the goblin threat had disrupted his livelihood, leaving him with little to do but drown his sorrows.

  Jett, undeterred by Herbert's appearance, stepped forward and addressed him directly. "Herbert," he said, his voice calm and respectful, "I need your help. I've heard rumours of a river, deep in Tallenwood, that flows south. Do you know of it? Is it real?"

  Herbert blinked, his eyes struggling to focus on Jett. He swayed slightly, as if battling an invisible current. "River, you say?" he mumbled, his voice thick with drink. "Aye, I know the river. Hammer Falls, they call it."

  Jett pressed on, ignoring Herbert's rambling. "Is it navigable? Could a boat travel down it, all the way south, towards the edge of Tallenwood?"

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  Herbert let out a harsh, bark-like laugh, a sound devoid of mirth. "Navigable? Aye, if you've got a death wish, maybe. The first part, where I fish, it's gentle enough. Calm waters, good fishing, when the damned goblins aren't around."

  He pointed a shaky finger towards the south, his eyes widening with a mixture of fear and awe. "But further down, the land changes. The river narrows, the current picks up, and it turns into... well, into a monster. Rapids, they are. Treacherous, deadly rapids. No sane man would take a boat down there. We call it Hammer Falls, cause its literally like you are getting hit by a hammer a thousand times, you'd be smashed to pieces on the rocks, swallowed whole by the churning water."

  He paused, a shiver running through his frame, as if recalling a terrifying memory. "And there's the whispers, too. They say a creature lives in the depths, down where the rapids end. A beast of the water, ancient and hungry. Some say it's a guardian, others a curse. Either way, it's not something you'd want to meet."

  The pronouncement hung in the air, a chilling counterpoint to the already grim situation. The river, their potential lifeline, was apparently a death trap, guarded by both natural forces and, if the rumours were true, a mythical beast.

  William, however, saw a glimmer of hope in Herbert's words. A perilous path was better than no path at all. Facing the Goblin King's army was certain death; the river, however dangerous, offered at least a chance of survival.

  "It's worth investigating," William said, his voice firm and resolute. "We need to see these rapids for ourselves, assess the risks, and determine if it's truly impassable. We have no other options. To confront the goblin army directly would be suicide."

  Roland, his face etched with a mixture of grim determination and reluctant agreement, nodded. "He's right. We're out of time, and out of choices. This river, however dangerous, is a lifeline. We have to take it."

  Caspian, ever the scholar, turned his attention back to Herbert. "This boat you mentioned," he said, his voice curious, "your fishing boat. Would it be possible for us to... borrow it? For this investigation?" He reached into his pouch and produced a handful of silver coins, the glint of metal catching the light.

  Herbert's eyes, previously glazed over with drink, suddenly sharpened. He stared at the coins, his mouth agape. "Borrow it?" he stammered. "Well, I... I suppose..."

  He paused, a flicker of genuine emotion, a spark of defiance, crossing his face. "Truth be told, I'd give it to you for free. Those damned goblins, they've ruined my livelihood, taken everything from me. I'd gladly do anything to see their downfall."

  He accepted the coins, however, his fingers closing around them with a surprising grip. "More liquor for me," he mumbled, a hint of self-deprecating humour in his voice.

  Caspian watched him, a flicker of concern crossing his face. He wondered if he had just inadvertently fuelled Herbert's self-destruction, if the silver coins would simply prolong his descent into drunken despair. But he quickly dismissed the thought. Everyone coped with hardship in their own way. Who was he to judge?

  William, ever practical, interrupted the moment. "Roland," he said, "we should prepare. If we're going to attempt this river passage, we'll need supplies. Waterproofing for our gear, ropes, perhaps even some basic navigation tools. We should gather what we can while we still have the chance."

  Roland nodded, his gaze lingering on William for a moment. Roland gave William a pat on the back, and said "Good thinking." He was impressed by the young recruit's foresight, his ability to anticipate problems and proactively seek solutions. It was a quality that was increasingly valuable in these uncertain times. He was secretly pleased that William had joined their mission, he was proving to be a valuable asset.

  Julia, too, offered William a warm, approving smile. She was relieved to see him taking such an active role, contributing his skills and intelligence to the group's efforts. It was a sign that he was adapting, growing stronger, becoming more confident in his abilities. It filled her with a quiet sense of pride.

  Within an hour, their preparations were complete. They had scoured Sharwood for any supplies that might be useful: oilskins for waterproofing, sturdy ropes, a small, rudimentary compass, and even a few fishing nets, just in case.

  Jett, having received detailed instructions from Herbert on the location of his moored fishing boat, took the lead. The party, their faces set with a mixture of apprehension and determination, set off, venturing into the depths of Tallenwood Forest, towards the treacherous currents of the Hammer Falls, and the unknown dangers that lay ahead.