We couldn't help but be flustered. This wasn't what we came expecting.
"Is this really a tribal village? It looks like ghosts are going to pop out!"
"Right? Haven't they all left already?"
"It's a goblin village, but they haven't even set up guards?"
Goblins are as suspicious as they are weak. So they usually set up guards or traps.
There was nothing of the sort here. As we tried to enter, we sensed a presence.
Someone was walking out of the village. Looking closely, a tall goblin, seemingly very old, was approaching, leaning on a staff.
As we grew wary, the goblin waved a hand and groaned.
"Oh dear... there's no need for that. Look, have we threatened you? Have we even drawn a knife?"
I looked around. Goblins emerged from the visible huts, looking dejected.
Even then, their numbers seemed to be less than twenty.
"...Is this all? You should have dozens, hundreds of them, shouldn't you?"
"I am the elder of this tribe. Dozens, hundreds? What old tales are you speaking of?"
