It was evening when Rowan harvested his tomatoes. He put together everything necessary to fulfill his second order. That brought his reputation with the goblins all the way up to the excellent rating of negative 98.

As Rowan was tilling the earth to prepare the next batch of crops, Zillia stopped him. “What are you doing? It’s going to be night soon.”

Rowan stopped what he was doing and looked up. The sun was low and the sky was orange. He realized that he had slept through the previous night after being knocked out by the mandrake. He didn’t really know what nights were like here in Zyndak.

Zillia explained that he had to go into town to get a room, “I’ll take you there, hop on the cart.”

A short ride brought them to Hemlin, a small goblin village. There were little wooden buildings of various heights with straw roofs. Several trading stands were set up, but now closed. They passed various shops and houses to a larger building that was clearly an inn.

Rowan caught some looks from the goblins they passed by. Obviously they were not expecting a human to show up in their town. At least he wasn’t alone, he thought, as Zillia led the way.

Zillia explained the situation to the goblin innkeeper. After some persuading, she agreed to rent Rowan a room.

“You can pay 10 coins to stay here for one night. Or you can save a little money by paying for a whole month in advance. That would just cost 245 gold.”

“He doesn’t have 245 gold,” sneered a voice from the lounge area of the inn, “And he’s not going to live a whole month.”

A mangey goblin stood up and gave Rowan a stink eye. He seemed pleased with himself, taking pleasure in identifying that a human was queued for execution.

“Point made. Now go back to your drink Forguz,” said the innkeeper, “So one night then?”

Rowan was about to head to his room to settle in, but said goodbye to Zillia first. He wasn’t sure how to thank her. But she didn’t seem like she wanted to chat for long. She said she was heading back to Glumziel’s mansion, and pressed the importance of getting there before dark.

“So what happens at night?”

“You realize how close we are to rifts, right?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Rowan knew vaguely about rifts. Openings in reality where creatures from other realms could creep through. But he didn’t understand what that had to do with being out at night.

“If you don’t want to be executed,” said Forguz interrupting, “You could always go out looking for rift creatures,” he chuckled again as if the only thing that amused him was the thought of dead humans.

“Rift creatures?” Rowan asked Zillia.

“I saved you from the mandrake. But I can’t help you if one of those finds you.”

Good to know. If they were stronger than that crazy plant, Rowan wanted to avoid them at all costs.

“Well before I leave you, here you go,” Zillia handed the crate of corn and tomatoes to the innkeeper, then turned back to Rowan, “A lot of your orders are to be delivered here. So you can collect your rewards when you bring your finished crates into town in the evening.”

Rowan graciously received his reward, which consisted of 5 gold and some celery seeds. Now he had a plan of what to do the next morning. He placed the reward in his belt pouch, which he now held very tightly, not being at all comfortable in this goblin town.

Rowan tried to get some rest. But now he was worried about his farm being overrun with strange creatures from other realms. He didn’t even know what to imagine, but he knew danger lurked out there. He was here in a strange goblin town in a strange goblin bed. Threats seemed to be around every corner.

His room happened to be right next to the rude goblin who eagerly awaited his death. Not very comfortable placement. He looked out the window. No goblins were out in the streets as the sun disappeared below the horizon. He got as much sleep as he could.

**

Unsurprisingly, he was rudely awakened by the noise of his neighbor. For some reason the goblin was clanging metal repeatedly. Rowan stepped downstairs and asked the innkeeper if she knew of any possible reason.

“Poor old soul. He’s a retired blacksmith. His head’s not where it used to be. Sometimes he thinks he’s still at his forge. I’ll try to calm him down.”

Rowan was already awake, so he took a look around the village. Some shops were open already. Rowan was intrigued. He walked up to a weapon shop to check their wares, but the shopkeeper scoffed. Of course he couldn’t expect to trade with these goblins. He wanted something a little stronger than his wooden sword, but it seemed better equipment was not on the table.

Rowan was about to head out when he say Forguz the rude goblin stroll out of the inn hastily, followed by the innkeeper. “Gotta get to the forge, gotta start the fire,” he was muttering madly.

Rowan was curious for an explanation. The innkeeper admitted, “He’s gotten a lot worse since we lost our usual blacksmith. It’s like he sees a hole in our community and feels a pressure to fix it. He’s really not a bad goblin.”

“What happened to your usual blacksmith?”

“Missing. Like so many goblins, she just disappeared.”

Rowan thought back to what Scrumble had said about kobolds kidnapping goblins with certain skill sets. He wondered if that’s what happened here. “Any idea where she was seen last?”

“Good luck playing detective here. Doubt you’ll be able to gather much information from this crowd. We don’t mind humans. We’re not the most prejudiced town. But of course you can’t expect us to be completely forthcoming with a stranger such as yourself.”

Rowan wasn’t going to press the matter. He couldn’t be chasing kobolds while he had work to do. Even if a goblin was in trouble. He had to look out for himself first.