First day on the Job

After finally escaping the confines of the large wooden hut, you strut back into the village, well aware of the gazes, snickers, and laughter directed at your disheveled appearance. Refusing to let them relish in your humiliation, you proudly display your still-muscular form, despite the purple paint covering it. The villagers had already seen you in a compromising situation, so this was nothing compared to that.

"Hurry up," Samura snaps impatiently, leading the way.

Reluctantly, you follow along, trying to gauge her intentions. "So, what do you have in mind for me now? Chopping wood, assisting in construction, or moving something heavy?"

Despite your noble upbringing, you had chosen a different path, aiming to understand and connect with the common folk like a true adventurer and hero. You had willingly taken part in various laborious tasks, from chopping wood to hunting, and assisting in building construction. By doing so, you aimed to build relationships and garner the loyalty of the villagers while learning their ways and taking pride in your work.

Samura laughs condescendingly, displaying her admiration and obsession for Kefla and the Futa Goblins. "Hah, no, those jobs are meant for Futa Goblins. They are a proud race and excel at skilled and hard labor, unlike many humans."

You roll your eyes at her obvious bootlicking. "So, what do you need me for if the strong and capable Goblins can handle all those jobs?" you sarcastically retort.

"There's more to be done around the village than just physical labor. Today, you'll be assisting with Lunch." Samura explains, leading you towards the largest huts in the village, which resembled an upturned ship.

You look puzzled by her statement. "I'm not much of a cook. Are you sure you want me near the food? I wouldn't want to accidentally poison your adoptive clan," you jest, pushing her buttons to test her limits while trying to find some amusement in this otherwise dire situation.

"You won't be anywhere near the food while it's being cooked!" she snaps back, her frustration barely concealed. Then, with a wicked grin, she adds, "You'll be serving the clan their lunch in the longhouse."

"Serving? Like some waiter?" you question, surprised by the unexpected task but also relieved that it doesn't involve something more laborious.

"Close enough," Samura responds with a hint of amusement, fully aware of her power over you at this moment.

As you step into the longhouse, you're immediately struck by the impressive craftsmanship and size of the structure. Though designed to accommodate the small stature of the Goblins, they have invested considerable effort and resources into making it large enough to hold the entire village population if necessary.

"Wow," you can't help but exclaim in awe.

"Not the savages you assumed them to be, eh?" Samura retorts.

"Well, the little savages sure can build well," you respond, unable to resist adding a hint of sarcasm to your compliment.

Samura narrows her eyes, seemingly contemplating whether your comment warrants punishment, but fortunately, she lets it slide for now.

Relieved that you haven't gone too far, you take a moment to survey the vast interior of the longhouse. Long tables fill the hall, smaller than you'd expect, but perfectly suited for the Goblin inhabitants. At the far end of the room, there's a raised platform with a grand wooden chair that resembles a throne, flanked by several other smaller yet impressive chairs. You assume Kefla and other notable Goblins of the clan will likely sit there.

In one corner, a large hearth crackles with a warm and inviting fire, with pots and cauldrons hanging from chains above it, emanating steam and curious smells. You realize you haven't eaten anything since your capture, except for that strange mixture they **** you to consume, which still sends shudders down your spine. Oh, and there was that disturbing incident with Kefla's spit. But neither of those can be considered a proper meal.

The realization hits you as your stomach grumbles loudly. Amidst all the chaos and worries, you had neglected the basic need for nourishment. You instinctively place a hand on your abdomen, acknowledging the demand for sustenance.

The smells from the pots and cauldrons don't exactly entice you, but at this point, you're willing to eat almost anything.

"You will be serving the food amongst the tables and refilling cups with Ale," Samura states with a smug tone, her pause a feigned moment of concern as she notices you holding your stomach.

"Not that I think you deserve to eat, but I'm sure a few scraps will be thrown your way if you perform your duties," she scoffs, pretending to care for just a fleeting second.

You straighten your posture, deciding it's best to hide your obvious discomfort from her and the other Goblins.

"Now follow me. We will start putting out the bowls and cups on the tables," Samura instructs, leading you to a door that resembles a cupboard.

She steps inside and begins to gather bowls in her small arms. When she emerges, you seize the opportunity to tease her by gathering three times as many bowls and giving her a challenging look. "Is that all you can carry?" you remark with a hint of sarcasm.

"Shut up, don't make me burn off that pathetic thing caged between your legs," she hisses back, clearly fed up with your barbs as the work commences.

Amused by her irritation but aware of the boundaries, you focus on the task at hand. The bowls are larger than you initially assumed, suggesting that they might have been traded or stolen from humans. However, their craftsmanship blends well with the village's aesthetic, implying a purposeful choice.

As you place the bowls on the tables, you realize the setting can comfortably accommodate the entire clan, perhaps around 75 Goblins if filled to capacity. You recognize that it might not be the best time or place for a daring escape attempt.

Making several trips back and forth to the store cupboard, you fetch an assortment of cups and drinking horns, surprised once again by their size. These Goblins seem to eat and drink more than one would expect for creatures of their stature.

"Okay, that's done," Samura remarks, beads of sweat trickling down her brow, some smudging the purple hair dye on her face. You hesitate but decide to inform her of the mishap with her dye, feeling a slight pang of pity even for this traitor.

"Your dye has run," you quietly inform her.

"What? Oh," Samura reacts, wiping her brow and unintentionally smearing the purple dye on her delicate hand. "Oh," she starts, carefully rubbing it off with her thumb.

"Why did you dye it?" you ask, genuinely curious about Samura's vibrant purple hair.

"Errr, well, I belong to Kefla," she openly admits, as if it should be self-evident.

"You dye your hair the same color as hers? Is it some strange, ****-owner relationship?" you question, trying to understand their unique customs.

"It's not strange; it's a Goblin tradition. Goblins are distinguished by their colored hair; it's a defining characteristic," Samura explains, her anger flaring at your perceived ignorance and disrespect towards her adoptive people's culture.

"You mean it's natural?" you inquire, taken aback by the array of vibrant and crazy hair colors you've witnessed during your time here. "I had never heard of that."

"It's unique to the Futa Goblins, a part of the evolution brought on by the flower," Samura elaborates, her anger dissipating as she delves into a topic she clearly enjoys talking about, even with you.

Your conversation is interrupted by the arrival of a large Goblin entering the longhouse. Though not as tall as Lirx or Kefla, she's almost round in shape, as wide as she is tall, and you have to hold back a giggle at her somewhat absurd appearance. Wearing an apron, she waddles over, clearly trying to get Samura's attention.

"Oh Glurxa, is it almost time?" Samura inquires.

"Yes, the rabble of baying mouths will arrive soon," Glurxa replies with a tired expression, hinting at the burdensome task of feeding so many Goblins.

Glurxa's eyes then fixate on your almost naked body, scanning you up and down as she licks her lips, giving you an unsettling sensation of being regarded as a piece of meat she wants to devour.

"This is the Warrior?" Glurxa remarks, sizing you up.

"Former Warrior, he is just a **** now," Samura corrects, her disdain for you returning quickly after your prior almost pleasant exchange.

"Quite a specimen, we should get some good work out of him," Glurxa chuckles, her face and body rippling as she does.

You stand quietly, feeling slightly uncomfortable as you await the end of their exchange.

"Right, boy, it's broth tonight, so you will be making a lot of trips," Glurxa addresses you directly, indicating the nature of your upcoming tasks.