The elder’s jaw dropped and he stood there in stunned silence, almost dropping his cane in surprise.

Four squealing goblin children led by the cheeky goblin girl danced circles around him as he revealed the snow-white fur of the rabbit. He had skinned it himself last night, before enjoying some simple grilled rabbit. The memory of the creepy crawlies feast was still giving him shivers now.

“Young one, did you hunt that yourself?” the elder gasped, visibly shaken by the turn of events. He stretched his hand out to feel the soft fur of the coat resting in the young goblins arms.

He supposed it was a big deal for the village but for him, it was a matter of his own dinner. He wasn't expecting for this to become such a spectacle. His mistake was allowing the elder to glimpse the rabbit skin in the morning. They had brought it out into the sunlight to better marvel at how the coat seemed to shimmer in the light.

“Yes elder, I slew the rabbit,” he said uncertainly. Goblins, like orcs, typically revered power and strength. The last thing he wanted was for them to call him chieftain of the village for his heroics. He still had his goal of getting back to the kingdom eventually and becoming responsible for a weak goblin village in the middle of an enchanted forest was not going to help that.

A crowd was gathering, old folk and younger ones alike. They all came forward to catch a glimpse of the fur and to sneak in touches of the thin fur coat. They began whispering, wondering how this fur came to be in the village.

(Someone slay White Death?)

(No, can not be. Our best warrior not beat such fearsome beast.)

(Maybe found dead on ground then?)

(No one found one, sick or dying or dead around village. Why now?)

(Maybe that young goblin holding the fur, he not from here.)

(Hmm, maybe yes. Maybe he is MIGHTY WARRIOR who will save village!)

He could tell the crowd was getting worked up, the excitement building at the prospect that their mortal enemy could be vanquished. He had to nip that in the bud before it got out of hand.

“Good peo…uh, goblins. This is indeed the White Death that you believe it to be,” he spoke, addressing the crowd. The goblins all gasped audibly, some nudging each other knowingly. “I will tell you right now how the beast was slain.”

He cleared his throat as they watched him expectedly.

“Yes, it was on accident. I accidentally killed this, uh, rabbit.”

He nodded, eyes closed as if in utter belief that this was the truth.

In reality, he was trying his very best to avoid the gazes of the goblins. He was a terrible liar in his previous life and his code of honour as a knight of the kingdom made that even more severe of a trait.

(Wow, he so humble. Said like true warrior.)

(Yes, yes, to say it not even hard to kill White Death, very fearsome.)

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

(Ah, so strong. Do you think he take my kid as mate?)

(No, he take my kid as mate. She more pretty than yours.)

He sighed, listening as his plan backfired around him. He waited as they squabbled over how much their daughters were worth, before the elder clapped his hands for silence.

The crowd hushed as the elder addressed them.

“Everyone, this young man comes from beyond our village. We do not know where he came from, or if he already has a family. Even if he has another clan that he must return to! It is unsightly how you all are trying to barter your daughters to him,” he scolded them.

They lowered their heads, acknowledging their shame at how quickly they had tried to sell their daughters off. He was delighted, however, as the elder seemed to be coming to his defense. Perhaps he would be able to be on his way before long. The elder continued speaking to the goblins.

“Yes, as such, we must convince him to stay with whatever means we have! All our treasures and heirlooms that we have, we must give him. Whatever we can provide will be his! He is the mighty warrior who will free us from the tyranny of the White Death and bring glory to our ancestors!” he cried out as the rest of the goblins cheered, some now with tears streaming down their weathered faces as they broke into ecstatic grins.

Wait, what? Curses elder, you played your hand perfectly. What a cunning tactician.

The elder had managed to lull him into a false sense of trust and pulled the rug from under him right at the last minute. He had to save this somehow.

“Wait,” he said, holding his hands up, “wait a moment, I cannot stay in this village for long. I am currently on a quest to find a certain someone to whom I owe a great debt.”

This was not a lie as he was in fact on a quest, one to find the real assassin of the King. He also did owe the assassin a debt, one in the form of a sword pierced through the criminal’s chest.

The goblins cheer slowly died as they realised that they could not persuade him to stay. The children started to cry as, although they couldn’t understand what was happening, they could tell the mood was starting to turn sour. Their parents (who had only moments before tried their very best to put a monetary value on their children’s worth as a mate) glared at him as if he had inflicted the tears on the children himself. The old goblins tutted and the elder crossed his arms.

“Um, well I could maybe teach you how to defeat the rabbits? I mean, I’ll stay a bit longer but I won’t, uh, be able to stay forever,” he stammered through the icy air that had just descended.

Slowly, very slowly, the elder goblin uncrossed his arms and looked at the adults. Unbeknownst to him, the elder’s eye slowly slid into a wink. Their back up plan was now in effect – keep the young goblin hero long enough to bribe him to stay. If they couldn’t immediately win him over, they would turn this into a war of attrition. The adults nodded grimly in hard determination. This was a great boon that none of them could overlook.

“Well young one, you leave us no choice. We accept your tutelage in exchange for a permanent (he raised a finger in protest, but a look from the elder silence him) residency with our village,” the elder proclaimed proudly. Once more, the goblins cheered.

“I almost forgot to ask young one, what is your name?” queried the elder, “We simply must know the name of our glorious warrior.”

“Um, the truth is I don’t have one. At least, not anymore,” he said slowly. He definitely wasn’t going to parade around as Magnar the Magnificent. No longer did he deserve to wear that name, after such a shameful betrayal to his liege. Also, it would do no good for a goblin to don such a conspicuous name.

“No matter young warrior. I, as the elder of this village, shall bestow upon you a new name. One that will bring courage to the hearts of young goblins and strike fear in the hearts of our enemies.” The elder ignored his protests and proceeded to give him his name.

“I announce, with the village as my witness, you shall be named – Utho, as my father’s father before him.” The solemn ceremony was punctuated by muffled gasps as several goblins held the young goblin in place, his protests gagged by a length of cloth. “Known as the strongest warrior in our history, you shall bear his title as protector and bearer. May the earth bless you and the winds receive you.”

The goblins applauded as he rose groggily to his feet, newly endowed with a name and resigned to his fate in the village as its instructor and protector.

Honestly, how hard is it to get rid of your own name?