Since there were goblins in this place, it wasn’t a huge leap to assume that this really was another world. So how far along was this world’s technology?
If I really couldn’t do anything for the village, I could easily see them killing me off. Just like the chief said, this place didn’t have the means to accommodate anyone who couldn’t pull their own weight. The only thing that I had to contribute was my body, then, forged through a lifetime of karate and physical labor.
Great. None of that made me less thirsty. Or cold. They could’ve given me my clothes, at least.
I wonder what they’re gonna do with all the other stuff they took from me? Now that I think about it, I don’t even remember what else I had when I first got lost here. Wonder if they’ll give anything back.
The door to the stable opened with a loud creak.
“Time to eat. Come with me.” It was the same goblin who captured me while I was wandering the forest.
He untied the ropes around me, and I finally made my way out of that cramped stable. Waiting outside was the muscle-bound man who had thrown me in the stable in the first place.
It seemed like he was in charge of keeping an eye on me. After a brief exchange of grunts between him and the goblin, the meathead followed after us.
“This way,” said the goblin, and I followed.
Man, it’s bright out here. I used one hand to shield my eyes from the sun, and the other to hide my crotch. The wind was brisk, but at least the sunlight was a bit warm. I’d wager it was spring in this world, or maybe fall.
A smattering of houses with walls built out of mud came into view as I followed—houses with chimneys, which meant that they probably had all the furnishings of real, proper houses.
Just as I thought when they first dragged me here, this village probably had a few hundred people living in it. The village itself was surrounded by forest, with only enough trees cleared out for the settlement proper. Small plots of farmland clustered near the houses, along with tiny stables like the one they tossed me in.
“Hey man, what’s your name? I’m Shuta,” I said to the goblin. He stopped, turning to take a brief glance at my face. I couldn’t tell how old he was, but even though the guy was a good head or two shorter than me, he was absolutely ripped. Imagine a miniaturized junior heavyweight pro-wrestler and you’re on the right track. Deep wrinkles lined his face, but I guessed that was just a goblin thing. It made it a lot harder to figure out how old he was.
The goblin ignored me and kept on walking.
“Aw, c’mon, man! Don’t be like that. You do have a name, right?”
No response.
I decided to hold off on the questions for now. Even if I really wanted to just know where I was and what was happening, I didn’t know what these guys would do to me if I pissed them off by talking too much.
Come to think of it, the talking itself was weird. I was in a different world, but I could still somehow communicate with these people.
We finally arrived at our destination, just behind the village chief’s manor. It was no outdoor café or anything, but it had a wooden porch and an earthen stove, where they must’ve done some cooking.
“Sit.” He was certainly a goblin of few words. I obeyed, sitting myself down on the wooden balcony. A young girl stood near the stove, ladling a thick, stodgy substance into a wooden bowl. She looked wary.
“Hey, thanks a lot,” I said, flashing a smile as she handed me the bowl…at which point she darted away, unfortunately.
Great, she hates me…or maybe outsiders are rare, and she just doesn’t want to be involved with me too much? I peered at what was in my bowl. The sludgy substance seemed to be some kind of porridge. I couldn’t be sure, but from what I could see, it had red peppers (I thought), some beans, potatoes, oatmeal, and bits of what looked like bacon (I hoped).
“Eat. When you’re finished, time for work,” the goblin said as he took his own bowl from the girl. I snuck a glance at what he got. Weirdly, he not only got less than me, but it looked like I got more of those bacon bits as well.
When I finally brought my wooden spoon to my mouth, I found the porridge didn’t have any flavor to it. Fine by me. I didn’t need gourmet cooking on an empty stomach. It only took about ten spoonfuls before my porridge disappeared.
“I’m guessing there aren’t any seconds, right?”
My question was ignored, of course.
After I finished eating, they finally handed me some clothes…kind of. Not my old clothes, but a raggedy old hemp loincloth. This wasn’t even what the other villagers wore—they all had full sets of clothes.
They gave me one more thing besides the loincloth: a small hand axe.
“Chop these logs. When you do, pile them up over there,” the goblin told me as he pointed toward a mound of wood. So that was my job here. Chopping firewood.
“What should I do when I’m finished with that?”
“Do all the ones here, then separate them so they can be used in the village. Then do the ones next to this pile, and the pile next to that one.”
I tried not to wince at the mountains of logs before me. Yeah, this isn’t the kind of job you can finish in one day. It’s gonna take at least a week to get it all done.
I offered up the brightest, most apathetic smile I could muster.
“Heh. Uh. You got it.”