A local elf currently guides us towards the settlement of humans. Elanor also mentioned that this village was the furthest town from the capital of Joker. And it is closer to where the twelve Kingdom lives. The distance of the city ranges for about a kilometre away from the Elven forest. Thus, making them the prominent traders for the growth of their economies.
The community does not have any valuable resources to share or eye-catching and inviting tourist spots. There are also few sightings of wild beasts that threaten the livelihood of the town, such as the orcs, ogres, and goblins. Their population comprises three hundred families. Half of them are children, with the rest mixed with old and young working adults.
As we draw closer to the village, a towering oak tree greets our view, with a flock of birds and butterflies fluttering around. Beneath its branches lies the taverns made with mostly wooden foundations and glass products for having a simple roof. Square stones made for benches are the designs utilised on the outside of the people's abodes. Some of them even apply lumber and large branches for setting up the chairs, saving both of their work and expenses.
Finally, our long walk to the woods rewarded us with a stunning scape beholding our eyes. Our fatigue escapes our body, refilling it with the energy we had lost during our journey. Even the elf who had known the trail for a long time shares the same euphoric feeling like ours.
"What a majestic sight to see. Isn't it right, Izz?" I asked my goblin friend on my right, who could not give me a reply.
She shifts her gaze back to me, feeling ecstatic unlike ever before.
"Brother, is this the village we will handle ourselves?" Izz questions while giddily pointing at the aligned rooftop, unable to contain her fizzing happiness.
The elf silently watches us, waiting for my orders to make her leave. However, before I could cast her off, I reached out my leather bag and handed over a herb that I picked in the course of our trek, paired with a handwritten letter for Elanor.
The herbs are not exceptional. But I have heard from Natalia that this plant is strenuous to find by the elves with their naked eye. It is only visible to us, humans or other humanoid species, which is one delicacy that they are trading with the nearby human village.
I believe the inhabitants call them as Vandula. They are purple flowers sparsely arranged on spikes at the tips of long bare stalks. The colour of their petals has a shade of violet with their stems coated with a green hue.
The elf girl angles her head to her side, addled, with the rest of the items on my hands.
"Give this to King Elanor," I provided all the articles to her waiting hand while secretly transferring a set of freshly harvested herbs separate from the King's gift. "And these are for you,"
"No, you should not have!"
"Take it, as a gratitude for guiding us here,"
The elf bows her head and, afterwards, hurriedly leaves the woods and returns to the castle, leaving the two of us, Izz and I, alone on the cliff.
"We'd better be going," I insisted and marched towards the coarse rocks forming steps of dangerous stairs. According to the same elf that guided us, this is the only way to go down to the village and upwards to the Elven Kingdom.
If I have the time, I will need to find an alternative way for us to return to the Elven Kingdom without experiencing this hassle.
By the time that we get down, the voice Elanor echoes inside my mind, intensely troubling me.
"Tell me your definition of a King,"
At that time, my head could not react and spouted such nonsense answers, which I suspect was right, to begin with, 'A specific quiz that has a particular answer', is what I had told myself at that present time. However, his face changes into a more solemn look and turns his back to me.
"You are still naïve about what is about to come," Elanor remarks and instructs the native elf to guide me to the town.
Natalia, listening behind me, also did not get what his father was saying to me clear from her perplexed face.
Glimpsing to my side, I saw Claire grinning to herself throughout my conversation with Elanor. She must have thoroughly thought about the answer that her husband had wanted and soon left the room in full spirits.
I also heard her mumble, saying to herself the words, "That's what I love about you," before striding away.
'It must have been my imagination,' I ponder to myself.
"Hey, brother!"
A familiar voice rings to my ear, arousing me back from my frozen senses. My eyes meet with a person moving towards me with a masking expression of relief.
His stature was stout, befitting for an old man. He also has the greyish beard, which I see among the elderly, similar to Delwyn and Douglas. Despite his shabby clothes, the aged bloke has multiple stars clipped on his chest. Stars that resemble the ranking of soldiers back in my world.
"Greetings, goblins," He said, with his hands still concealed behind his back. "Are you the rumoured viscount, Lake White, and his companion, Izz?"
"Yes," I answered whilst naturally nodding my head to his obvious question. "That's our name."
"Very well said, goblin." The odd man claims while, at long last, shows the hidden objects at the back of his limbs.
A pair of sharpened daggers grips from his hand, slightly lowering its aim angled at our direction. Scars all over his arms come into sight, revealing he has a bit of an intention to fight us, thinking we are goblins from the wild. It was a good thing that we ventured towards the town where the villagers can undoubtedly see us descending from the rocks.
But with this man showing in front of us, without hiding his killing intent, makes my first impression of this town 'dangerous' as it seems.
"Markus had definitely gone senile," He murmurs to himself and faces his back against our fore. "Or abandoned us with these worthless creatures."
"Come, and I will show you around."
On his words, we advance towards the uneven road made of dirt and pebbles. Once we reached closer to the plaza, make-shift fences compounded with leftover scraps and unused materials welcomed our eyes.
"As you can see, there is nothing much you can find here in this town but-," The long in the tooth man flails his hand and ultimately points at the west side of the field. Our globes follow his gestures, but what we see mystifies our minds.
"But the vast field is the only thing that we, the villagers, are proud of."
At once, the immense view of the neatly ploughed plain esteemed our sight. Patterns of assorted plants lay on the ground, waiting for them to grow naturally. In spite of seeing the dusk, these farmers are still diligently managing the needs of the verdure.
The same scenery enthrals our eyes upon looking at our east, with the same meadow but distinct group tending for the plant life; As we stare towards the yonder, the village station hundreds of compiled bungalows for the families to rest inside. The place is not as lavish or prestigious as the white house. But it was more than enough to cater to the needs of these ranchers.
I glanced at the old man and noticed his eyes sinking to his cheeks while watching his people work without proper compensation. But Markus has his hands full on preparing for a war against the soldiers of Spades for the next few months. It will be hard for him to manage every town that he governs, so he advises every talented person to pilot the small villages. And one of those few individuals is a mere goblin, such as I.
"The meeting will start in a few minutes," The man whispers for us to hear while steadily heading towards the arresting tavern at the middle of the city. "From there, we will discuss the matters between your decision and ours."
"I doubt that would happen," He added while finally walking away.
My feet refuse to lift itself, as if wanting me to pay attention to the beautiful landscape. Izz, who cared nothing about the internal affairs, fixates her eyes on the massive estate.
"Is it just me or it is starting to feel really chilly out here?" Izz expresses her thoughts while sniffling down the running snot on her nose.
I nod in acknowledgement, agreeing with the temperature decreasing in this location. The same climate also affects the Elven race above the grounds, where they are thinking of wearing thick clothes for the upcoming winter.
"Winter,"
I mumble to myself while desperately grabbing the burrowed light bulb under my scalp.
"Winter!"
I yelped and hastily dashed towards a countryman, watering the crops.
"Mister, kind of vegetable did you plant inside the soil?"
The man, shocked to witness a goblin that can speak, stutters to answer my inquiry.
"Tomatoes, peppers, and eggplants,"