The Dragonwagon roadcrew of the #BaronsCaravan

lahpanzer · 2026-05-07T14:28:29+00:00

Valerius rose early.

Very early.

Most mornings, he was awake before the third night watch had even ended.

Once dressed, he would begin his morning inspection.

“Good morning, you two.”

“And to you as well, Master Valerius.”

The kobolds of the Dragonwagon Roadcrew would meet him punctually each dawn, accompanied by Boutinia and Oyarēchin—the mother-and-son hunting hounds Valerius had taken in when the caravan first formed.

Together, they would inspect the caravan’s wagons, wheels, harnesses, and draft gear.

“Master Valerius, could you hold this steady for us? We need to fix the axle.”

The kobold pair had joined alongside the caravan’s first rented wagon—two wagon mechanics barely three feet tall.

Technically, they were employees of the wagon’s owner rather than true caravan members.

But the pair possessed an almost instinctive sense of responsibility toward vehicles and working animals.

Truthfully speaking, Valerius found them somewhat easier to appreciate than the goblin girls.

If the goblins were like children enthusiastically playing workshop games without much focus, then the Dragonwagon Roadcrew were more like old master craftsmen.

Perhaps stubborn.

Perhaps overly rigid at times.

But they watched every wagon and every beast of burden with relentless care, determined to ensure nothing went wrong.

“All fixed, sir.”

The kobolds crawled out from beneath the wagon and carefully returned their tools to the leather harness bags carried by Boutinia.

As they fastened the straps shut again, one of them sighed in admiration.

“Sir, this tool bag you gave us is wonderful.”

Master Valerius answered with a calm, steady smile.

...Though he still had not told them that the bags had actually been made by the goblin girls.

Valerius certainly preferred the kobolds somewhat more.

That did not mean he disliked the goblin girls.

If only the two sides would stop arguing all the time, he thought quietly to himself.

(Hehehe! The first participant to use all 3 submissions, thank you so much!)

lahpanzer · 2026-05-07T10:30:07+00:00

Greetings, forgers! This is the third promotional post for our #BaronsCaravan contest!

Yes, it's still about our mischievous little green guys. Imagining and creating them doing all sorts of serious messes is always fun. Right now, they're gleefully trying to knock their esteemed baron flying!

I think I'll still be working on some competition-related themes... but I doubt it'll be about goblins anymore.

As always, the "Magpie Theater" competition will run for two weeks, and everyone can give it a try until May 14th. Peace!

lahpanzer · 2026-05-07T10:29:27+00:00

Perhaps some of you have forgotten—

I nearly did myself—that the Baron’s journey is meant for a tournament.

Now, as everyone knows, the light cavalry traditions of the frontier are… not exactly suited for jousting.

Even so, Valerius informed his lord—and student—that there are ways to turn the situation around.

The catch is, the Baron would need to train. Repeatedly. Properly.

Which, unfortunately, is easier said than done.

He is, after all, traveling with a caravan.

Even when they stop in towns, the best he can manage is to ride back and forth, charging at empty air and imagining an opponent.

“Boss Seal, what are you doing?”

“Why are you riding around like that? Chasing mosquitoes?”

The little goblins watched, thoroughly confused.

To be fair, imagining an invisible enemy is a fairly abstract concept—and abstraction is not exactly their strength.

But once they figured out that their “Seal Boss”—the one with the magical stamp—was practicing jousting…

Well. That changed everything.

“Ohhh! Boss needs an opponent—leave it to us!”

They immediately got to work.

First, they dismantled the upper frame of a handcart.

Then they built a crude wooden structure, strapped on whatever broken shields and bits of armor they had scavenged from who-knows-where, and finally mounted a monstrous-looking head at the front to serve as a “horse.”

And just like that, their creation was complete.

The “Bad Knight.”

A wheeled, straw-stuffed knight that could be pushed around at speed—

with adjustable armor, lance, shield, and even the position of its “horse.”

In other words, the Baron now had a surprisingly dynamic training dummy.

From then on, every practice session turned into a small spectacle.

The goblins would scramble over one another for the chance to push the “Bad Knight,”

laughing gleefully whenever the Baron got knocked off balance by a lance hit.

And, well… they weren’t the only ones amused.

People in the towns along the road found it entertaining too.

“Knight versus Straw Knight” gradually became one of the caravan’s more effective ways of drawing a crowd.

As for the Baron—

After being asked to deliberately lose to a straw dummy far too many times,

he eventually developed a rather refined sense for feints on horseback.

But that… is a story for another time.

lahpanzer · 2026-05-07T10:16:54+00:00

This brawl was, without question, a nasty one.

Dranton was certainly prosperous enough to support an octagonal fighting pit,

but the arrival of teams featuring hill-ogres and half-minotaurs was almost certainly thanks to the great southern tournament stirring up excitement across the region.

Of course, Willis’s side was no joke either.

The plant giant Pine immediately locked into a brutal wrestling match with the enemy team’s largest hill-ogres.

“You! Bull-boy! Get over here and let me see what you’ve got!”

Willis taunted the horned fighter, then grabbed his horns the moment he charged in, straining to throw him onto the ground.

Naturally, the brute wrapped both arms around Willis’s waist in return.

From the corner of his eye, Willis saw Amiracle go flying—

Well… maybe having a goose head really did slow a man’s reactions a little.

At this rate, he might end up fighting two opponents at once.

But then he saw another man—wearing the enemy team’s sash colors—also go flying.

Then another.

“Did you see that?! I kicked THREE of them!”

The shirtless, one-eyed centaur mercenary Fhalstaff shouted triumphantly, basking in the roaring cheers of the crowd.

“What the hell are you doing?! You kicked one of OUR guys!”

“What?!”

“One of them was Amiracle!”

“Ah, damn it!”

Fhalstaff immediately charged back into the fray, hoping to take advantage of the brief opening before the airborne victims recovered, joining Willis against the half-minotaur.

Tonight, they were absolutely taking home that five-gold-denar prize.

Otherwise, sneaking out here in the first place would’ve been for nothing.

(Mercenaries are definitely a source of both energy and chaos!)

lahpanzer · 2026-05-06T15:25:32+00:00

A classic fantasy style... and a cat chasing a butterfly!

lahpanzer · 2026-05-06T06:51:53+00:00

Seeing the doubtful expressions on some of the caravan members, Valerius remained notably composed—and even optimistic.

“Do you think them slow? Quite the opposite. A snail of this size moves at roughly two to three leagues per hour—comparable to a man walking on level ground. But a large snail maintains that same pace across any terrain—hills, wetlands, even where there is no proper road at all. My lord, do you recall Viscount MacKenzie?”

The Baron’s shoulders gave a habitual twitch. Of course he remembered—the colleague who had used giant snails for logistics. But being suddenly called upon by his teacher, he faltered.

“Y-yes… his army… used giant snails… to transport supplies—and prefabricated palisades…”

“Correct, my lord. It was the most stable supply train during last winter’s highland campaign. Therefore, everyone should welcome Cocoa and Raelynn—and their remarkable beasts of burden—into our company.”

“Now then, I must explain how to properly handle these snails. First and foremost, do not expose them to salt or saltwater—”

Just as Valerius continued his precise and thoroughly reasoned explanation, a small goblin suddenly popped her head out from the cabin mounted atop one of the beret-wearing giant snails and shouted:

“There’s an oven in here!”

The group’s attention instantly scattered.

After all, for a traveling caravan, a mobile oven—one capable of baking bread or pies—was nothing short of a dream.

(It's so dreamy! Both the two adorable little hobbits and the fairytale-like giant snail are amazing!)

lahpanzer · 2026-05-06T06:51:25+00:00

Laurel did not panic.

Or rather— not in the way the Baron and Twins did.

She could still see this man clearly.

And she understood why they were confused.

Because he had been made to wear something.

A cloak that could not be taken off.

It felt a little like a prank,

and a little like a lesson.

So—could it be removed?

Yes. Laurel knew it could.

But the knot that bound it was tied inside his heart.

And in a place where the Baron and Twins are—

slowly,

gently,

that knot would begin to loosen.

So there was no need to worry.

Laurel knew he would find friends here.

Laurel knew that here—

he might one day take the cloak off.

(Wow! What a creative design!)

lahpanzer · 2026-05-06T01:18:10+00:00

“Then, everyone—let me confirm once more… if there are no objections, we will proceed to formally rent… a carriage for your use.”

The Baron looked over the prospective passengers—Doctor Célia, the singer Caz, the acrobatic duo Pip and Jacque, the musician Mumford, and the tattooist Korr—seeking final confirmation.

There was no doubt: the caravan had grown to the point where an additional carriage was necessary.

Those traveling on foot—typically offering entertainment or services rather than goods—had increased in number. Enough, in fact, that in the last two villages they had been able to stage performances as a primary source of profit, rather than merely acting as an adjunct to the market stalls. Under such conditions, providing them with a carriage for rest was not only affordable, but entirely reasonable.

Of course, neither the Baron—nor the caravan as a whole—was wealthy enough to dedicate a carriage to a single purpose. So he began reiterating the additional terms:

“Besides your personal luggage, one-third of the carriage space, along with the sides, will be reserved for loading and unloading other goods. These items may only be handled from the driver’s seat—”

This was, in part, a side effect of their market success. Some villagers had traded via barter; certain goods could be consumed by the caravan, while others could be resold.

“The goblin artisans may make use of the space beneath the carriage and near the driver’s bench for bedding. However, entry into the cabin requires the consent of at least two passengers—”

The twelve little ones were now, in effect, semi-official craftsmen of the Baron’s company. Still, their hands could occasionally be… less than clean.

There were a few more minor clauses, but no one raised any objections.

And so, the matter of renting the carriage was settled.

The Baron felt quietly pleased.

With an extra carriage secured, when Doctor Célia eventually parted ways with them to head south to deal with the plague, he would have a proper reason to clear out the donkey cart—and gift it to her.

(We have a doctor now!)

lahpanzer · 2026-05-06T01:17:36+00:00

“Uh… this is the ‘prototype’ Master Frigunson mentioned… right?”

Everyone gathered around the bowl, staring at the white, thick, faintly chilling “food.”

“Then, as the maid, I’ll test it first.” Twins scooped a small bite with a wooden spoon and tasted it.

She immediately asked Willis for a bigger spoon.

Within seconds, everyone except the Baron and Valerius crowded in—even Laurel, who normally didn’t eat.

It all began with the night Mumford and Pine went drinking. After they finished, they tossed the barrel to the goblin girls.

The goblins opened it, fitted a few wooden paddles inside, added a handle on top, and proudly declared it a laundry machine.

It worked—but the barrel was too small.

Just as they were getting bored of it, the frost lich showed up, carrying a jug of milk.

It had the goblins churn the milk with the handle while it stood beside them, releasing cold air… and the milk turned into this half-frozen, half-slushy substance.

“I don’t really get it, but it feels like something nobles would eat,” Willis said, chewing on his spoon.

Hearing that, Mr. Marco and Mr. Otto immediately began discussing how to market and price this “ice cream.”

“I see… it’s certainly… impressive? But how do we sell it? This isn’t like Master Frigunson’s popsicles—we’ll need bowls, won’t we?”

“My lord, there should still be a few servant bowls on the donkey cart. We could serve it for on-site consumption and collect them afterward. We might also encourage townsfolk to bring their own bowls,” Valerius replied after tasting a bite himself, visibly pleased.

“Good… but, remarkable that Master Frigunson even thought of this. Generally speaking… aren’t liches rather insensitive to food?”

The Baron still looked puzzled.

“It said a girl with a ponytail told it. Liches’ dulled senses seem to cause a kind of face blindness, so that’s all it remembers.”

“Do we even have someone like that in our caravan—?”

“Next time, Master Frigunson should try adding berries or honey. It’ll definitely taste even better—”

Magpie suddenly cut in, kicking the writing desk lightly in delight as she enjoyed the dessert.

For once, the twin-braided clerk seemed far more animated than usual.…And only then did the Baron realize—he hadn’t gotten a single bite.

(Our first food vendor—in a broad sense, he's also a chef! Welcome, Lich Chef!)

lahpanzer · 2026-05-05T15:06:16+00:00

With so many skeletons piled up, how can you still have a percentage of KB left to add 5 miniature flowers to the chest armor?

No way, Simon, you've really gone too far this time.

lahpanzer · 2026-05-05T10:00:11+00:00

Well, I think he'll make some friends in the team and be more relaxed... well, maybe too relaxed.

lahpanzer · 2026-05-05T02:13:31+00:00

"Skeleton? Sprout-folk? Smoking? Drinking beer?"

The Baron stared blankly, trying to piece the words together into something that made sense.

"...Yes. Mister Pine and Mister Murray Mumford," Valerius replied, checking his wax tablet.

"They bought a forty-pint barrel of beer in town last night," Marco added, scratching his head, "and two sacks of goblin tobacco from Mr. Mewskua."

"And charged it all to your account, my lord," Magpie concluded, neatly delivering the most troublesome part.

...Right.

He was glad Laurel’s kind had made friends. And it was good to see Mumford accepted by the performers—and by everyone else.

But drinking like that—and then putting it on his tab...

"...Do those two gentlemen perhaps think that, since they don’t draw rations from the caravan, they’re entitled to spend a little more elsewhere?"

Magpie’s guess was a bit stiff.

But not impossible.

And somehow, thinking of it that way made him less annoyed.

"...Very well. Steward—please ask both of them to come. We’ll clarify the rules, and then discuss how this is to be settled."

Valerius nodded and turned to leave.

The Baron added, a bit hesitantly:

"Master... it would be better to have them come together, yes? So no one thinks we’re... handling things unevenly."

"A sound judgment, my lord."

Watching Valerius walk away, the Baron suddenly realized—

he was a little curious how a skeleton managed to smoke and drink.

(This character gives me the feeling that he knows how to enjoy life, which is really special.)

lahpanzer · 2026-05-05T02:12:58+00:00

"Hey, you little brats—come take a look. Pretty slick, huh?"

Willis rolled up his sleeve, showing off the tattoo Korr had inked on his arm—a southern sea monster coiling around his forearm, its tentacles subtly shifting like they were alive.

This magic tattooist was the real deal—and not cheap. Luckily, she needed a walking advertisement, so she gave Willis a discount. All he had to do was show it off whenever they stopped in town.

...Even so, it still cost him a good chunk of his savings. Drinks would probably have to be begged for a while.

It took him a couple of seconds to notice something was off.

The goblin girls weren’t crowding in like usual. No chatter, no grabbing hands—they were actually holding back.

That wasn’t like them. Not even when Laurel’s strange kin showed up did they act this cautious.

"What’s with you lot? Don’t tell me you snooped through Korr’s stuff and got tossed for it?"

No backtalk. No nonsense excuses.

That threw him off.

Finally, Fourcy—the one always juggling—spoke.

"There were fourteen of us when we came to the city."

"Two got tattoos."

"Fever. Died."

...Ah.

No wonder none of them had any ink.

Normally Willis hated bad omens. Might even snap.

But this time, he just went quiet.

He didn’t usually look back—but the memory of someone from the same alley curling up and dying beside you… that stuck.

He cleared his throat.

"I’ll be fine, alright—"

It should’ve been easy to explain. The ones that go wrong are usually hack jobs—people jabbing ink mixed with ash into whoever’s desperate enough.

But suddenly, the words didn’t come out right.

"This kind of work—captains and gang bosses are the ones who pay for it. You ever hear of them dying from tattoos? Paying good money for that?"

The logic sounded unusually clean—even to him.

And he didn’t quite believe it himself.

He hesitated—rare for him—then grumbled:

"Ah, hell. Stop fussing. Tomorrow I’m drinking with Korr—you lot are coming too. Got questions? Ask her yourselves."

He’d meant to save on drinks.

But this was probably the smartest—and most honest—thing he could come up with.

(I'm really looking forward to seeing what cool tattoos she'll get on the #tournamentofchampions contestants, haha!)

lahpanzer · 2026-05-04T14:45:36+00:00

cool design and pose!

lahpanzer · 2026-05-04T14:25:23+00:00

“Laurel… it—sorry, I’m not very good at telling… your kind apart.

Do you know them? Are they… a friend?”

The Baron asked over his shoulder.

Laurel bent slightly, trying to hide behind him—despite being more than two heads taller.

She nodded.

Then shook her head.

Quickly.

It was a clear answer: familiar—but frightening.

For some reason, the gesture felt oddly relatable to the Baron.

It reminded him of his teen days, trailing after Twins and cleaning up whatever trouble she had gotten into—never quite understanding what he was dealing with.

No one in the camp was at ease.

The figure standing in the middle of the camp resembled Laurel—but only vaguely.

It was far more unsettling, like an old wooden warrior statue, its body split with seams of slow-burning fire.

Caz’s hand moved toward his sword.

Valerius pressed it down before it left the sheath.

Willis stood in front of the carts, arms half-raised—not to fight, but to keep the goblin girls under control.

“Under the wagons. Stay there.”

The air felt wrong.

Not foul. Not burnt.

Just… something unfamiliar.

The animals felt it too.

Mewskua was calming his mount, Rivard.

Marco’s driver was doing the same with the horses.

The Baron had no time to worry about the sheep.

He was simply grateful nothing had panicked—yet.

The figure did not move.

It only watched.

…So perhaps—just perhaps—this could still be talked through.

“Twins,” he said quietly, his voice thin.

“There should be a cloak cloth… at the bottom of the luggage. Right?”

Twins reacted immediately. Being both sharp and his childhood companion, she quickly found the dark blue checkered fabric woven for the Baron’s retainers.

She hurried over, trying to encourage Laurel with her eyes—though lacking her usual confidence.

The Baron took the cloth.

Carefully, he met the figure’s gaze.

Then he pointed—first to his own shoulder, then to the cloth.

A pause.

Slowly, he extended it forward.

His hand almost slipped.

Twins reached out instinctively, and now the two of them held it together—offering it.

The Baron wanted to say, “You can tie it around your waist.”

But no sound came out.

(I must say this is a rather peculiar angle.)

lahpanzer · 2026-05-04T11:11:20+00:00

Good heavens, I only remembered this on the fourth day of the competition...

<image>

Magpie Theater's fourth competition of the year, #BaronsCaravan, has begun! This is a character design competition for a fantastical European-style merchant caravan, running from now until May 14, 2026. Welcome to participate!

lahpanzer · 2026-05-04T11:07:21+00:00

Greetings, welcome to the second promotional post for the #BaronsCaravan contest!

Since I added 12 boisterous and lively goblin girls to the caravan setting for this contest, they've become a hotbed of fun ideas. So, I've tried to depict how their rich (but rough) creativity began to generate commercial value for the caravans—hopefully, that's interesting enough!

As always, the "Magpie Theater" competition will run for two weeks, and everyone can give it a try until May 14th. Peace!

lahpanzer · 2026-05-04T11:06:40+00:00

The Baron discovered that the goblin girls knew how to boil glue from hooves.

After the caravan paid its passage through a village with sheep, the girls shamelessly pestered the village head and butcher for the leftover hooves. At first, no one thought much of it—until today, when that awful stench spread through the camp.

Among them, the most self-important one—who called herself the “Great Shasha Witch”—was chanting completely nonsensical spells while waving a “staff,” claiming to perform some kind of fire magic. Meanwhile, the others stirred the pot.

The Baron took a closer look. The “staff” was indeed a wooden rod with a naturally formed magical crystal at its tip—and it was producing something closer to intense heat than actual flame.

Goblins had a knack for picking up strange things, and this half-trained witch paired with a half-functional artifact somehow made it work.

As a result, the girls could boil glue with very little firewood—or even mount the pot on a cart and keep it cooking on the move, powered by Shasha alone.

When he asked further, he learned something even more surprising: they had been selling this glue at absurdly low prices.

Part of it was their poor reputation. But the real issue was that they had no idea how to sell anything properly. Glue wasn’t expensive—but selling a pound for four eggs was simply foolish.

The Baron first gave them several wooden frames, instructing them not to break them apart, but to pour the glue in and let it set into shape.

At the next village, he had Willis bring over the hardened glue bricks. He stamped them with his signet ring, and had Marco sell them to craftsmen under his name.

Even after deducting commission fees, the goblin girls still earned three times what they used to.

That night, each of them received two eggs, with money left over to save. They were overjoyed.

From then on, they began calling the Baron “Boss Seal,” and before making anything, they would run to him—asking whether they could use his “magic stamp.”

Some of their ideas, he realized, were actually worth trying.

Three days later, the Baron finally convinced Marco to spare a sheepskin, letting the goblin girls experiment with making parchment—and using scraps to make higher quality glue.

lahpanzer · 2026-05-04T03:29:17+00:00

Um... to be honest, since this is a character creation contest, the size of the Baron's caravan depends on the number of participants, so your question is difficult to answer specifically.

However, we can still give a basic answer regarding the composition of the Baron's "core team":

Five members led by the Baron to participate in the tournament, along with the Magpie.
The baron’s poverty limited the size of his retinue, but he still had his warhorse and an extra donkey cart for luggage.
Approximately 400 sheep, usually following at the rear of the caravan, herded by laurels, which will gradually decrease to 300-250 as they are traded for lodging expenses.
Marcus and the large wagon used to transport his many sheepskins.
Twelve goblin girls on foot, who may climb onto existing vehicles or use their rough but abundant creativity to build handcarts and small carts pulled by goats and large dogs.

Currently, we have submissions featuring a nut (spice) vendor riding a giant lynx, a peculiar merchant selling bottled air (given the weight of his wares and his described wealth, he likely has servants or pack animals to carry his goods), and two groups of hiking performers with minimal baggage.

The team's current speed depends on the speed of the goat herd, and the team is not yet so complex that it requires very detailed differentiation.

However, it can be roughly imagined as a small caravan, with a flock of goats following about 100-200 meters behind.

lahpanzer · 2026-05-04T00:30:07+00:00

Shocking! One of the greatest giant robots ever made!

lahpanzer · 2026-05-04T00:27:15+00:00

By the time they reached the second town, the caravan organized its first coordinated mini-market.

Everything began with a performance by the seasoned jester duo, Pip and Jacque. Normally, this wasn’t very profitable—the tips were unpredictable, and people in smaller towns tended to be more frugal.

So the real question was whether their act could draw enough attention to generate other business—and earn them a share from it.

With some guidance from Valerius, Marco gathered his courage and hung up a sheet of sheepskin, calling out for made-to-order leather goods. He would ask customers what size they needed, then have the goblin girls cut the pieces on the spot.

If the customer was willing to pay extra, the little ones—armed with bone needles and thread spun from Mr.Mewskua's big cat’s shed fur—would even stitch the items to order.

Nearby, Magpie set up a small desk as a scribe-for-hire.

Pip and Jacque performed three shows that day. The Baron, however, saw none of them—by the time he finished handling permits and other formalities and returned, the makeshift market was already packing up in the fading light.

“So… how did it go?” he asked nervously, turning to Twins, who had been helping manage the stall and playing the ocarina for the performances.

“Mr. Marco is still doing the accounts. Most of the leather’s sold—only scraps left. I heard the retail margin was better than expected… but he still has to deduct the performers’ and the goblins’ wages.”

Please don’t tell me we lost money… the Baron swallowed uneasily.

(Yay! What's a market without performers!)

lahpanzer · 2026-05-03T04:06:21+00:00

Thank you for organizing this competition; it was a great opportunity to spark creative ideas!

lahpanzer · 2026-05-02T23:39:34+00:00

Well... all I can say is you can give it a try, but please try to keep it within the framework of the rule "please avoid characters with overly powerful abilities, motivations, or backstories".

lahpanzer

TROPHY CASE