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Chapter 10

"One apple please."

The street vender looked up from his book and stared at the man before him.

"Never seen you around here. And I know everyone. Yer new to these parts are ya?"

Malcolm smirked. "Good eyes! I'm just passing through, defiantly won't be staying too long! How'd you tell? "

The vender laughed. "Its yer hair! Darker than a raven's beak that mop is! You don't see that so often in these parts. Everyone heres almost northern blonde. Helps with the cold they say!"

Malcolm chuckled. Sliding a few coins across the counter he asked. "So about that apple..."

Fruit in hand, Malcolm wandered the narrow streets of the town, glancing around. Although it had been almost a week since his surprise operation, his feet were still sore.

I swear, Sven will pay for that! He thought, taking a bite of the apple. But now wasn't the time to plan revenge. He had a job to do.

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Since leaving Norfolkdor, they had traveled about fifty miles north, to the large town of Bullhaven. Here the Goblins hoped to train Malcolm, as no one around here would recognize him.

Given that the Toe Goblins could not risk being seen in Bullhaven, it was Malcolm's job to scout out potential targets. Houses near the edges of the town, preferably with large windows. And no dogs.

Malcolm strolled the streets for the next hour, mentally noting certain locations. Once he had seen most of the town, he made his way back to the main market.

He was inspecting some dwarven swords when he heard shouting from the gate. Walking over, he saw what had caused the commotion.

Groups of soldiers from the northern frontier had just come over a distant hill, and were heading for the town. The crowd cheered as more and more men appeared on the horizon

However, as the warriors grew nearer and nearer, the mob began to grow silent. The bandages, torn flags, and dirty armor gave it away. These men were not returning home after a triumphant victory. This was a full-scale retreat.

With the current battlefront less than fifty miles away, a retreat of this scale spelled bad news for King Edvard and his allies.

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That night at the Toe Goblins camp, Malcolm gave his report to Sven. The Toe Goblin was pleased. Malcolm had done well. However, when he mentioned the returning troops, Sven frowned.

"You foolish humans are always getting yourselves involved in these pointless wars! If you're going to work for me, you need to forget about these senseless things."