Travel North to the village

Your long walk to the north stretches your weary body to the limit. By the time you reach the village you scarcely care that it has been burned to the ground just like Gutandor. You take a blanket from your pack and seek shelter in the smoldering timbers of a partially intact barn. The roof is smashes in several places, but in the dark corner you are protected from the worst of the wind and the intermittent rain.

With a weary groan you stretch out on the dirt floor and cover yourself with the blanket. You are asleep in moments. Before light breaks you awake to a strange, guttural voices. A chill goes up your spine as you realize that it is the language of the goblins.

Your father told you tales of your grandfather and his brother battling the goblins and their orc masters in the wars of long ago. Goblins are savage, violent creatures and known slavers. A small tribe once plagued Gutandor by stealing sheep and attacking travelers in the woods.

You lift yourself up just enough to peer through a crack in the wall of the barn. In the moonlit road you see that there are three goblins and a human figure. No, not a human, an elf. A very comely female elf.

She is dressed in a teal bodice inlaid with silver threads and a shredded, muddy skirt that once might have complimented her hips and ass, but now hangs in filthy strips down her pale legs. Her hands are bound behind her back and her legs are shackled.

You can't help but stare at her exposed breasts, which hang pert and enticing from her torn bodice, fully exposed to the air. They are small and shapely with pale, pink nipples that stand out like pebbles againt her pale skin. A crude symbol has been daubed on her arm in blue paint or ink, possibly a slaver's mark.

The elf's face is exquisitely beautiful, with the fine doll-like features of elves and large, lavender eyes that gleam in the moonlight. Her lips are full, but small. Silvery white hair hangs unkempt down her bare back and locks frame her face. Her long, pointed ears stick up from her head, more like the goblins' ears than your own. Other than a few scratches and bruises on her arms and legs she appears physically unharmed.

The three goblins are discussing something. The two smaller goblins are scrawny and much shorter than you. Their green-skinned bodies are the size of a child, lean, but they have the practiced stance of fighters. The largest of the three goblins is still a fair bit smaller than you, though it is muscled and powerful-looking. For a goblin. This largest goblin holds a leather cord that connects to a studded collar fitted around the elf girl's slender neck.

You don't doubt that you could take any one of them in battle, but three might be too many. They wear patchwork armor and sheepskins and they each appear to be armed with crude bludgeons.

It might be best to remain hidden and watch them from concealment. And yet, the anguished face of the beautiful elf girl stirs your courage. You weigh your options as they bicker.