>>5229352>>5229660>>5229772You are tired in the extreme, and in no shape for travel—not even to The Pretty Kitty or Agatha’s uncle home.
“Zi,” you whisper, “can I spend the night with you?”
The goblinness makes a show of trying not to show her enthusiasm, with a simple clearing of her throat and a “Yeah, sure, whatever, I guess,” but you can see her ears wiggle with excitement.
The two of you find what slim pickings there are for accommodations in the overcrowded network of storage rooms, bunks, and meeting-places that make up the goblin warren. The maze of interconnected basements has a low enough ceiling to make even an entity such as yourself claustrophobic at times, especially with the crowded nature of the den and the off-putting chattering and odours its denizens produce. Luckily, Zi knows her way around, and has enough clout to get you both a pair of mattresses in a room which seems to be primarily used to store pickled produce.
“Sso, thiss place iss busssier than I remember,” you note.
Zi grimaces, and shotos you a glare. “Well, whose fault is that? Sewers are on-watch, guards won’t let anyone without a fucking stack of paperwork two goblins tall into town… Everyone’s stuck here, bickering and bartering and trying to make it work. The forest’s pretty much cleared out of game! Gobs are talking about starting up raiding bands again and setting out like the bad old days of ma and pa and old uncle stuck-on-a-pike-for-thieving.”
“Why not farm?” you ask.
Zi just looks at you, dumfounded and almost offended. “You ever SEEN a goblin try to farm, Zith?”
You have no answer to that, obviously, though the mental image of the impatient little greenskins trying to manage crop rotations and heard animals who hate the sight and smell of them amuses you. You suppose you can see Zi’s point.
Zi sighs, and flops down onto her bedroll, before turning to you with a wry smile.
“I guess you big plan here is going to change all that, though, huh?”
You shrug, and smile. She narrows her eyes.