Chapter Five: The Head Drinks
A few days later.
The blacksmith was hammering hard on the red-hot iron ingot, removing the debris. He had gradually forgotten about the two strange adventurer couples from a few days ago, even though they were quite interesting. Recently, news about the abundance of greenskins in the Blood Pine Forest had left everyone anxious. Some said that there were large numbers of greenskin orcs in the forest, so many that they were planning to attack the capital. Others claimed that local officials were deliberately hiding information, and now there was a large group of greenskins outside the town.
The blacksmith couldn’t help but recall how, a few nights ago, he heard strange sounds in the night sky, a distant “Waggggh.” His parents said it was an ominous sign. Should he move away and temporarily escape to a higher place behind the city walls?
While pounding the iron, the blacksmith pondered the costs and wondered whether the town’s walls and soldiers could withstand the greenskins. Perhaps things weren’t so bad. The blacksmith thought that a knightly order had sent scouts to investigate just some time ago.
“Dah dah dah.”
The sound of urgent hoofbeats echoed from the street. The blacksmith looked up and saw two scouts riding fast horses, galloping down the street. One had an arrow stuck in his shoulder, blood covering his arm, and his pistol was missing from his waist.
They quickly crossed the street, heading for the nearby military camp.
“Clang…”
The burning iron ingot fell to the ground, and the blacksmith felt a sense of foreboding.
“Master, your iron fell on the ground.”
“What time is it?” the blacksmith scolded. “Hurry and run!”
“Run?”
“Fool, the greenskin orcs are almost here!” The blacksmith hurried, having no experience in fleeing, but his parents did. Many questions lingered in his mind.
How should he escape?
Should he take the anvil with him?
He needed to consult his parents about these matters.
A few hours later, the local town was in chaos. The scouts brought a terrifying message: a large number of greenskins were on their way, with many goblins riding spiders as mounts, and at night there were sneaky goblin assassins.
The entire squad of scouts had only two survivors left. It was said they had seen giant spiders that were twice as tall as the city walls from a distance.
The flustered blacksmith was hurriedly loading two carts, filled with their belongings. He felt lucky that he had heeded his parents’ advice and bought the two carts in advance in case of a quick escape.
But they were all blocked at the town’s wooden gates.
“Open the door! Open the door quickly!”
“The greenskins are going to burn this place down!”
The guards claimed they had orders to keep the doors shut, which nearly incited public outrage, almost resulting in a storming of the gates. Not far away, people were climbing over the wooden wall; they were lightly armed but could take the back roads, while many couldn’t bear to leave their belongings behind.
The local garrison had only about fifty people, still hesitating to flee directly, but they risked being overwhelmed by the scouting party of greenskin orcs on the way, or they could remain stationed and wait for reinforcements.
“What? What is going on?” Some merchants were belatedly realizing, “My blood pine, I still have a cart of blood pine. Damn it, I’m taking a huge loss.”
The blacksmith couldn’t take the noise anymore and shouted back, “What time is it? Are you still thinking about your blood pine? We might all die!”
Just then, someone shouted from the wooden wall: “Open the door, hurry up, someone is coming outside!”
The wooden door slowly opened, and someone impatiently spurred his horse to charge out, but the horse suddenly “slammed to a stop.”
Two riding horses were pulling a cart loaded with blood pine logs, and on top of it was tied a massive spider head, as big as a wardrobe, with a dark, terrifying mouth that genuinely struck fear into people’s hearts.
The crowd fell silent.
Jiema, wearing a hooded cloak, was polishing a goblin skull with sandpaper, trying to make it shine a bit more; the skull had a slight green hue.
George, wearing a framed helmet and chainmail, like a sea raider, broke the silence. “Everyone, don’t worry too much, please make way. The leader of the greenskin tribe is dead.”
The crowd looked at each other, murmuring, pointing fingers at the two and asking who they were. The pointed-at ones shook their heads in denial.
George continued, “Please clear a path.”
Everyone instinctively believed George’s words and moved aside.
The two riding horses struggled to pull the cart filled with blood pine and the giant spider head into the town.
Seeing the merchant by the roadside, George jumped off the cart and said, “This should be your goods.”
“How did you find it?”
“Found it at the lumberyard.”
“But I heard that place has long been occupied by the greenskins.”
The blacksmith, unable to suppress his curiosity, walked over and asked, “How did you kill that greenskin leader?”
He asked the question that many people had in their hearts. Many looked at George, who found himself unable to lie; he helplessly glanced at Jiema.
Jiema, using a hammer and knife, was knocking off the sharp edges of the skull and said:
“Luck was on our side. We were resting by a big tree at the roadside, having breakfast when a large group of greenskins and their goblin war guys were marching below us. Especially that war guy, magnificently riding a giant spider as he passed underneath us.
He roared, ‘I will use your skull as a bowl!’ and jumped down, one chop took the war guy’s head off. This goblin was a powerful shaman, but still, that’s all.”
Hearing this sound like a tavern old soldier bragging after drinking cheap liquor, everyone found it highly credible, and the buried feelings of panic made them unconsciously believe it.
“So, what about the giant spider?”
“Luck was on our side; it was startled, losing three of its eight legs and fell to the ground, its body pierced by the blood pine, and the greenskin orcs below ran away in fear. My husband and I took turns using our axes for a long time before we chopped its head off.”
Everyone stared in astonishment, praising them for being brave and fearless, blessed by Sigmar.
“Alright, dear.” Jiema said, handing the rough skull bowl she made to George; a faint fishy smell wafted up to his nose. “Your skull bowl.”
The blacksmith gave a thumbs up and said, “What a manly trophy.”
“I said I don’t want it.”
“But it’s made by your dear wife herself.”
George took a look at the skull bowl and resolutely shook his head.
“What a pity,” Jiema said. “I guess I’ll just sell it.”
They declined the local people’s offer to host a dinner for them and rested for a day. The next morning, before people had woken up, they set off.
Before Jiema completely lost interest in the goblin skull bowl in her hands, they finally arrived at Marlin City. They hired a cart to carry the giant spider head, and the two headed to the Adventurers’ Guild to submit their quest.
The old Mediterranean man was very surprised, checking multiple times before writing the report to grant them a platinum badge personally conferred by Jenna.
During the process, the old Mediterranean man indirectly tried to inquire about their identities, as if checking household registrations. Jiema turned the tables, asking him many questions, including about his first love and extramarital affairs, while casually spinning a lie about their origins to disguise their identities.
Once they completed the formalities and received their money, the legend of their exploits had already spread throughout the hall.
When George and Jiema appeared, people voluntarily cleared a path for them. Seeing the crowd in the hall, Jiema suddenly had a whimsical idea, auctioning off the very manly goblin skull bowl and ultimately selling it forcefully to the old Mediterranean man for eighty gold coins as a “thank you.”
The old Mediterranean man grimaced, taking out eighty gold coins.
Jiema added, “Hey, look, someone is willing to offer a hundred gold coins; I won’t sell it, only to you.”
“Yes, this way, we can consider ourselves friends, right? May I ask how you two can be contacted?”
“Don’t mention it, don’t mention it,” Jiema laughed as she and George left together.
