The goblin calmly motioned for me to sit comfortably at the edge of the straw mattress. Her face was dark, unresponsive, and apathetic. I began to feel like I wasn't much of a Lord when it came to the Fourth End inhabitants. I swore that after this, and the plight I had already set in motion, I would focus fully on the better well-being of the Vale.
I obeyed her order, mentally stripping away my title of Lord to act on her orders like a regular customer seeking relief from a Manifestation. As I sat down at the edge of the straw mattress, I felt even more uncomfortable as it squished under the pressure of my weight. The room was stuffy, and the dim candlelight cast dancing shadows along the tent's frame, giving me a sense of dizzying dissonance.
I looked up at the goblin a few feet away, awaiting her next order. I couldn't think of a proper metaphor to describe her unreal figure, but one thing was certain: she must be considered attractive by her fellow goblins.