Gukb followed the lanky he-bastard, but warily. He was fairly sure the human was going to grab the nearest sharp instrument, and run him through. That, or make a nice jigsaw of his face. Every tendon in his spindly little body told him to simply run; he could do it, the he-bastard might be stronger than him, but he wasn't faster. He turned to leave as the barber reached for his tools of the trade, and started sharpening one of them on a strop. 

"So what brings you to Estermere this fine night Gukb?" the he-bastard said, turning to look at Gukb. 

"What brings most'a people to a place like this?" the goblin asked rhetorically. "Coin 'n' goods flow freely; there be fine pickin's to be made. Just old Gukb here likes them pickin's to be free of charge, see?" 

He walked across the attic, the wooden planks beneath him barely creaking under his meagre weight. The barber seemed well established, and judging by the lack of bloodied instruments, quite competent at his job too. Gukb had never had a cut and shave, not from a human in any-case, and this remembrance reinforced the notion of his impending doom.

"Yer not gonna gut me, are ye human? Plenty'o ya kind 'ave tried, some nearly succeeded too," he said, putting on his best smile. "Goblin blood is a rank business, or so's I'm told by ye kinsmen. Would be a shame to get it all over yer finery 'n the like."