Ratface woke up hungry which was an improvement on waking up starving. She listened out from her little nook and upon hearing nothing dug herself out of her small den she’d made. She covered it then hunted through the junk piles around her.

Her home away from home was placed in the village’s midden, a fancy name for their trash pile. If one man’s trash was another man’s treasure, then right now she was surrounded by treasure

She hissed as she cut her hand on some pottery, sucking on the wound to stop the bleeding. She was about to give this morning up for a loss before she heard rustling in one of the other piles.

Ratface creeped closer to the pile then dived towards it. There was a flash of brown followed by a squeak and Ratface held her hands up in triumph.

… Her empty hands.

Ratface stared at them then turned to the rat who stood on another pile further away from her. The rat squeaked at her mockingly then sauntered into the pile.

“One day,” Ratface swore. She dusted herself off and went to look for a more nutritional, less mobile meal.

Ratface had been in the village of Pinewood for approximately a month, so she was pretty much a part of the village by now. Yes, she was a part of the village that would be described as ‘an intruder’, but still she’d been around long enough to get their routine down. For instance, most people at this time of the morning would either already be at work or otherwise occupied so she could walk around relatively freely. With the understanding that freely meant flitting from shadow to shadow until she found her meal.

As a result of everyone being busy, Ratface has the dubious honor of being the first person to see someone coming to visit. A giant of a person covered in metal was walking down the road. Ratface weighed the pros and cons of approaching them and decided that better the giant armored person you know than the one you didn’t.

Ratface slunk out of the middens into the grass. She crawled through the grass until she was close enough to see the metal person. Despite her attempt with the rat, she was actually pretty stealthy. That rat was just a prodigy.

Up close the metal creature was revealed to be a metal woman. It was an old granny covered in armor. The armor was beautiful. It had runes carved into the joints and seemed both well used and well kept. The knight look was ruined by the old lady wearing a straw farmers hat and whistling a cherry tune as she walked past.

Ratface’s eyes narrowed. What the village had right there was an adventurer. The number one fatality of rogue goblins. She’d seen some of them in her old settlement before it’d been destroyed and they’d never let their hand get too far from their sword. This one didn’t either but that was because she was using her sword as a walking stick. Wouldn’t that actually be harder than walking with it on her back? Was it a statement?

The adventurer got close enough that Ratface’s keen nose could smell her. She expected the usual smell of sweat with the faintest undercurrent of dried blood. She didn’t smell like that at all.

She smelled like baking.

Ratface let the smell ingulf her. The granny smelt like cookies. The faint whiff of chocolate carried with her as she walked. Ratface had only seen chocolate once at her own village’s festival.

The smell of baking made her stomach rumble. Right. She hadn’t had breakfast yet. She slinked away to see if she could find something in the village.

The village of Pinewood was not a big place which was good and bad for Ratface. Good because as a result of having not that many people they didn’t have anyone dedicated to guarding or maintaining the wall around the village. Bad because everyone knew everyone, and she couldn’t just become another face in the crowd. Particularly when her face was green.

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Ratface still had some time before everyone would be coming back for lunch. If she was quick, she could sneak some food from the tavern before they all filed in. She scrambled under the wall into the village slipping into an alley. She looked up the alley towards the village proper.

Popular opinion among goblins was that humans were just awful at looking up. Usually when dealing with them up was where you’d go. Pinewood was terrible for this. These people all thatched their rooves and so she couldn’t jump from place to place unless she was willing to fall through one. Daylight also wasn’t a great time for rooftop slinking.

In an ideal situation she would sneak in here at night. She’d been doing that until they started locking the place. They just used a block of wood too so even if she had known how to picklock it wouldn’t have been of any use. The good thing about them is they couldn’t be used without locking yourself in, so the houses were still open during the day at least.

Ratface snuck down the alley. She moved from shadow to shadow until she was just across from the tavern. An open street separating them. This was where it would get dicey. She leaned forward to check if anyone was around and seeing no one sprinted across the street and into the shadow of the tavern. She didn’t stop moving until she was out back where only the cook might come out for a break. Ratface made her way to the window and listened. No obvious sounds that she could pick up. She risked a peak into the room.

The kitchen wasn’t a big place. It could fit maybe two people in easily. Three if those people didn’t mind elbows. There were slices of meat and bread out on the table waiting to be assembled. She could smell the pies in the oven. She’d smelt those every day and never been able to take one.

Ratface clambered in through the window and into the kitchen. She landed with a faint tap as her feet hit the floor. She paused. Her ears stretching to hear someone moving to investigate. There was a big window that looked out into the tavern itself, but no one seemed to be coming from there. After a few minutes of silence, she figured no one was coming and moved towards the bread and meat.

Raiding the village was an exercise in balance. If she took too much, she became a nuisance, and they’d start looking for her. Too little and she would starve enough to make stupid mistakes. It had been a delicate dance to avoid people knowing for sure she was here. A lot of tipping and wasting food to make it look like a rat or something had gotten in.

Ratface eyed the loaf of bread. The cook had already sliced it which made her job much easier. She grabbed four pieces from the middle then pressed the bread together. She went to the meat and grabbed all the scraps that had been put to the side and put them in to make herself some sandwiches. Hopefully the cook would assume he’d cleaned up before going out. Ratface eyed the oven with the forbidden pies before shaking her head. Too risky.

She was halfway through making the second sandwich when she heard the main door open. She grabbed the ingredients and ducked down before she could be seen. The door swung closed, and she heard the sound of footsteps followed by several people sitting down.

They started talking and as they went on Ratface realised she didn’t recognise one of the voices. It must be the adventurer. She got as close to the window as she could and listened in.

“Well dearies what seems to be the problem?” said the adventurer. She had a kind voice. A voice more suited to asking how their grandkids were than about adventurers.

“Well Lady Abigail,” began the cook but the adventurer interrupted him.

“Abby is fine Tom, we’re all friends here.”

“Well Abby,” the cook, Tom, continued, “It’s the old golem out in the swamps. It’s gone rogue and now traders can’t get in. It’s a wonder you got here.”

“An old girl like me has her ways.”

Ratface would like to know what those ways were. That golem kept her stuck here too. It was only a matter of time before the villagers actually did something to her.

“If it keeps up like this, we won’t have enough food come winter. That brings me to our other problem actually.”

Ratface kept listening but began assembling her sandwich underneath the window.

“There’s a little creature stealing our food. We don’t know for sure but some of the kids swear they’ve seen a little goblin girl running around. I know it’s a big ask but I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take care of her?”

Ratface froze.

There was a long sigh followed by the sound of a thud as something heavy hit the ground.

“I suppose I can deal with that too. Well, I guess I should get a handle on those two tasks.”

“Well don’t rush off too fast. Let me at least give you a pie after you gave us these cookies.”

Ratface had heard enough. In a few minutes the cook came into the kitchen, but Ratface was already gone. The only confirmation she’d been there a small pie missing from the tray.