"Okies!"

Unencumbered by armour or even shoes, Twilly moves through the woods as easily as a fish through water. Those little legs can keep up surprisingly well, at least so far. 

The sneevil leads Elan and Twilly on a bit of a chase, changing direction frequently and doubling back to try and shake them. Not being particularly strategic about this, admittedly, but taking advantage of the local geography in a way that suggests this sneevil knows the area quite well. 

"I hope we aren't being led in circles," Elan huffs. "Or into a sneevil trap."

Sneevil trap, did he say? 

Two more sneevils jump out of the bushes just ahead and turn to meet them, brandishing daggers. 

"Halt!" says one. 

"Who goez thar?!" says the other. 

Their voices are squeaky and childish, matching their small stature. 

Dangit!

Okay, this probably isn't actually like the orc island, where getting caught in a trap was the thing that was supposed to happen to advance the plot. These guys just seem… silly.

"We're the box inspectors! Our supervisor told us that they got an anonymous tipoff that a fort in this area was built with a box that's bad building material."

The sneevils are horror-struck. 

"Box inspecshun?" 

      "Bad boxes?!"

"Oh no! We bettar go tell da boss!" 

      "Follow uz! Dis wai!" 

They hurry off, beckoning for the "box inspectors" to follow. 

Yay, that went well!

Elan maintains an air of businesslike dignity as the sneevils lead the way. As much of one as he can actually manage, anyway.

The sneevils lead him to the box-fort proper, a palisade of crates and barrels surrounding a ramshackle box tower. The entrance to the palisade is guarded by a pair of sneevils with upturned metal buckets on their heads and spears taller than they are, who—

("Box inspecshun!"

      "Box emerjensy!" 

"Comin thru!")

—step aside to let the box inspectors pass. 

"Good afternoon, sirs!"

Elan takes care to not make a terrible mess of the boxes he inspects. He's a little distracted—he knows he's only going to take one box, and that it's really important, but it also kinda feels like tricking and stealing from a bunch of little kids.

Maybe if he sees someone who looks In Charge he'll ask if there's anything the fort needs—well, other than boxes, which it sounds like everyone in the area is short on.

The boxes in the fort are all empty, except for the occasional useless scrap the sneevils must have missed. They're mostly made of wood, sometimes with iron bands. The distinctive Black Dragon Box is nowhere to be found, even when Twilly squeezes under a pile of boxes in the corner to check the ones on the inside. 

Nearly all the sneevils are dressed in ragged, ill-fitting clothes. They look to have cut down and adapted clothes sized for adult humans: one's wearing a cut-up pair of socks as gloves, and another is wearing a man's shirt as a tunic, with the sleeves cut off. Most of them are armed, with a mixture of good-quality daggers and spears (also sized for bigger people) and makeshift improvised weapons cobbled together from parts, such as this stick with some nails hammered into the end. 

One of the first two sneevils drags another one over to talk to Elan. The new one is wearing a cape (made out of a shirt; the sleeves are tied around his neck) and has a box for a hat. The other sneevils get out of his way like they did for the "box inspectors". 

"Hooman! I iz Boxlord Nibbler. You iz box inspectur?" 

Elan nods.

"Good day, Boxlord Nibbler! I am a box inspector, yes, and so is my colleague. We're investigating a report of… improper boxitude. And also checking to see if there are any supplies you're low on.”

Boxlord Nibbler draws himself up to his full (unimpressive) height. 

"We iz only using da best boxes!" he protests. "And we no need stupid supplies." 

Well fine then he won't keep an eye out for anything like better clothes!

Elan takes a deep breath.

"Your fort does look pretty awesome. Maybe there are other forts nearby that use less awesome boxes? The report I got said that the box was, uh… black…"

He glances meaningfully at Twilly.

"It's black 'n' gold and it has a picture of a dragon head on it!" Twilly fills in. 

The Boxlord is placated. "I not seen ANY box liek that. But bad boxes iz bad for sneevils. We shud ask ALL box collectors!" 

He starts shouting orders. A brief period of chaos ensues, as the other sneevils somewhat haphazardly attempt to follow them, but he does indeed seem to be asking his underlings if any of them have seen a black and gold box with a picture of a dragon's head on it. 

Elan waits patiently. Hopefully at least one of these guys saw it, or knows a guy who did. And hopefully whichever fort has it hasn't gotten particularly attached…

Eventually, someone has something more substantive than "not me, boss!"

"I hurd dey had fancy black box at da Tree Fort!"

"Great, thanks!"

Is the Tree Fort on the map?

Yep! It's not too far from here. 

Oh cool.

"Thanks for showing us your awesome fort!"

And then they can be off!

Once he’s pretty sure they're out of sneevil earshot:

"I feel kinda… bad for these guys. It looks like they don't make anything for themselves. Do you know why?"

Maybe they… like it better that way? That would probably make Elan feel better.

Twilly thinks about it. "Well, they steal boxes because they like boxes, but then I guess they take the things inside the boxes, too, and use them if they can!" 

Elan nods thoughtfully.

"That makes sense. Maybe if everyone was less busy all the time, someone could have a job making boxes for them as presents. Except the Boxlord didn't seem to like the idea when I offered… maybe they feel embarrassed about getting presents? Ugh, this is complicated."

"Sorry, I doesn't know very much about sneevils, Elan. Maybe we should ask Sir Valance when we gets back? He seemed to know a lot!"