It was another slow day in your tavern. You were sitting behind the counter, having finished most your tasks. Food was warming in the pot, malt beer and drinks were cooling in the cellar. And most importantly, no new reports.lettimg out a deep sigh, You look to your left, and the bastard sword leaning on the counter. Taking it into your hands, you fiddle with it a bit, shifting it around your hand. You know full well that, should the monsters choose to attack your little frontier town, you wouldn't be able to do anything about it. You'd probably not even die holding it, or having stained it with blood. You hear a jingle, a customer must have arrived

You quickly prop the sword against the counter and focus your attention on the new patron. Or at least, try to. The "patron" is an awkwardly sized humanoid, mostly obscured by a great and heavy looking coat. It stumbles and ambles towards the desk, its upper half swaying like a tree in the wind. It finally manages to lumber its way to the counter, and props its self up on its elbows. Strangest of all, it seems to be muttering to its self, constantly looking down. It's only when you get a good look at it's face that you put the pieces together.

More amicable or tribes were allowed In these frontier settlements, your inn bordered one. But the communities were never allowed to interact. Crossing into one group without permission would lead to punishment. it seems the 3 goblins Infront of you wanted to experience the human half of the town, and so created the disguise. To give them credit, it looked convincing enough. They had simply neglected one detail: they forgot to disguise the head.

Good day, fellow person! The goblin maning the head speaks in a cheery voice as you can see, I am very starving. Can I buy eat, and sleep place too?