“What’s it say?” Myran asks, as he peers over my shoulder.

Cyrus pulls the elf away. “Are you so jealous you can’t give Ethan a moment to read his own letter?

Myran scoffs. “Jealous? Nosey, maybe. Impatient, definitely. I’ll give you that. But I’m not one for the green skinned, Vicar. They remind me too much of reptiles. Like I’d be humping a gecko.”

Cyrus sighs. “I wasn’t talking about sex, Myran. Though I’m not surprised you took it that way. You’re still young I suppose. I was once the same.”

Myran rolls his eyes. “Spare me the wise old man routine, Cyrus.”

Hush,” I say. “Give me a minute.”

I’ve already read the note. There wasn’t much to read. The question is whether I heed it.

Send your companions away.

Was all it said. But where would I send them to? And why?

Cyrus and Myran wait patiently as I think. Neither speaks. They just keep themselves busy with the food at the table.

At least they eat together as well as argue. Can’t be too mad at a man you break bread with.

There is a knock at the door. The sound reverberates around our stone chamber.

“Enter,” I say.

The door swivels open on well-greased hinges. A goblin enters in a long tunic. He is thin and unassuming so definitely not from the military that’s for sure.

The goblin bows. “Sir Ethan, thank you for admitting me.”

Did I have a choice?

“Would you and your companions care for a tour of our world in the mountains?”

A tour guide? Like I’m at a national museum or something.

“No thank you,” I say politely but firmly. “I haven’t even eaten yet.”

I walk to the table just to emphasize my point but the goblin does not leave.

“Perhaps your companions, then?” he asks. “I believe the princess was hoping at least someone would be able to see the people and places of our land.”

I turn back with a piece of bread in hand. “What did you say?”

Myran and Cyrus look at me now as well. Neither had been paying much attention earlier but are responding to my sudden interest.

If the goblin is surprised he doesn't show it. “I suggested that perhaps your companions could come.”

“You said the princess wished for it.”

The goblin shrugs. “I believe her highness is proud of her people. And we don’t get many visitors these days. She would like you to see them.”

I look at my companions and down at the letter.

Coincidence?

Myran and Cyrus are both eyeing me expectantly. They don’t know what’s in the letter of course, and now is not the time to tell them, but they can tell I’m tense.

Hell, it can’t hurt anything.

“Alright,” I say finally. “They can go with you.”

“We’re taking a tour?” Myran asks.

“Yes,” I say. “We’re being diplomatic. You and Cyrus can fill me in after you return.”

Myran looks mournfully at some hot scones but follows Cedric out with the guide. I still feel a little unnerved by the letter but my unease dissipates after two pieces of ham and some sort of venison. Everything is excellent (if salty) and I’m sure expensive. I don’t see a lot of pigs on the mountainside for example. The meat must be heavily cured and purchased from traders. I wonder what animals are native here. Maybe goats?

It’s nice having some time by myself. I can take it in the quiet without being bothered or worried about being attacked. The goblins said they’d take care of the orcs and all I have to do is sit here and eat ham.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Deal.

There is another knock at the door disturbing my serenity.

“Enter.”

It’s four goblins this time and they come bearing a giant pot: a potted plant to be exact. They’re rolling it along on some sort of metal slab like they’re working in a warehouse or something.

“What’s this?” I ask. Genuinely curious as to why I’m getting a desert cactus delivered to my room.

“Excuse us, Sir Ethan,” one of the goblins says. “It is a gift from the princess.”

“The princess…sent me a plant?”

The goblin bows.

“Ok…well put it in the corner I guess.”

The goblin nods and relocates the pot to the correct corner.

“Do I have to water it?” I ask sarcastically.

The goblin bows.

Don’t be an ass, Ethan. He’s just doing his job.

“Apologies,” I say. “Thank you for coming and please thank the princess for her gift.”

“Of course, Sir Ethan. We are pleased you like it.”

I’m not sure I said that exactly, but whatever.

The goblin bows (they are awfully good at that) and all four of them exit. I am alone again. Well, me and the plant. I walk over to it. I poke it, carefully, gingerly.

No need to get a cactus needle in my skin.

The cactus skin is tough, rubbery even. I slide my hand around it. Something feels strange about the plant. I can’t put my finger on it exactly but it doesn’t feel quite right.

Well what do I know? I’m a gamer not a botanist.

I take a few steps back and am fully intent on getting a drink when the pot starts to shimmy. Just a little at first and then the top pops off. The cactus and a thin layer of dirt go flying through the air as a wooden top I didn’t even know was there pops off with it. And from under this display emerges the princess of the goblins. She snuck into my room using the pot as some kind of trojan horse.

And she arrived butt naked.

I cannot believe my eyes as she leaps out of the container and onto the floor in nothing but her birthday suit. She prostrates herself before me not even willing to meet my eyes.

“Sir Ethan. You must help me. Help the goblins. This is our most desperate hour.”

Never have I wanted to run so fast. Like Jon Snow I am scared of a naked girl. Especially a girl as hot as this one.

“What?” I stammer. “How? Why?”

She raises to her knees, her luxurious tits hanging down before me.

Is she coming onto me? Trying to sleep with me for some reason.

And then it hits me: this is the ultimate sign of respect. Instead of lingerie she’s just nakedly (har, har) honoring me to the greatest extent possible. It’s probably the greatest compliment I could hope for.

“I’m sorry for coming to you in this way,” she continues, “but I could not risk being seen. Couldn’t risk my father finding out.”

“You’re here without the king’s knowledge?”

The princess hangs her head. “I am. To my shame. But I have to put my people before my pride.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

She is still kneeling, waiting.

“Please. Please get-up,” I say. And then wish I didn’t.

BOOM. That’s a body.

Just focus on the lips. Damn are they red. Thick too.

Stop it. Stop it. Shit. She’s talking.

“-- so father thinks it’s the fault of the army.”

“The fault of the army?” I ask, hoping she’ll repeat herself.

“I know. It must sound crazy. But he really thinks they’ve become undisciplined. Now I know you’ve only been here a short while, but I ask you. Do we look undisciplined to you?”

I mean if you consider the marine corp undisciplined I guess.

“Ugh, no,” I manage.

“Of course we’re not,” Vestra says. “Father is ever stricter than my grandfather. The difference is the orcs.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re like an organized army now, Sir Ethan. It’s crazy.”

Sounds like what she said in the throne room.

The princess shakes her head, her long brown hair flirting around her shoulders. “Orc attacks were always sporadic, occasional, and stupid. Just blundering beasts attacking a caravan or something. And they were just as likely to fight each other as us. We’d find the bodies sometimes. Dozens of them. All that’s changed now. But father still blames the army. That and our lack of faith.”

She spits out the last word, like it’s a curse.

“Lack of faith? I thought goblins were super religious.”

“Oh we are. For all the good that’s done us. We pray and pray and pray but it’s never enough. We fail the Maker but he can never fail us. So father wants the next offensive to coincide with a prayer vigil. The biggest one we’ve ever had. As if that has anything to do with victory or defeat.”

“Well, it may have a little to do with it,” I pose it more like a thought or possibility but she takes it like a verbal slap and drops her head again.

“My apologies, Sir Ethan. Father says you are the Maker’s chosen. And I didn’t mean to insult you. But all I know is that you are a great warrior and we need your help. Even if Father won’t admit it.”

“You want me to talk to your father?”

The princess locks eyes with me. They are passionate and earnest. “I want you to help us defeat the orcs.”