As they passed by the fields of golden stalks of grain, the wagon eventually reached the point where it passed through an open, spacious fence-gate. Rolling slowly to a stop, the farmer stretched his arms into the air, let out a groaning sigh and then smacked his lips - as if he had been doing some kind of streineous chore or excersise all this time. The place they'd stopped at was a farm, no doubt about it. There was a barn, a silo, a farmhouse and even a chicken coup, with some brown and white chickens bumbling about carefreely, picking at the soil for seeds and worms.

"Well, here we be, youngsters. Welcome to my farm." The old fellow said, climbing down from his seat and onto the ground. Moving to undo the straps and reins to his poor old work-horse, the fellow didn't exactly seem to be in a rush to cough up the coins he was due, nor to usher his bodyguards away. Perhaps he was just being hospitable? Or perhaps he was trying to squeeze as many minutes out of their R time as he could. Regardless, once he was done with his mare and led the poor critter back to a hobbled-together stable, he returned to the adventurers.

At this point, Druid Girl had climbed out of the cart as well, busying herself with looking arond at the fields and farmlands around them, as well as raising an eyebrow at the questionable state of some of the structures here. It was clear this  man was no carpenter, and that he took greater care of his crops and livestock than his own infrastructure. But, hey, as long as the ceiling didn't come crashing down on him in his sleep, who was she to judge?

"Well then, I reckon ya'll be wantin' your pay now, huh?" The farmer said as he walked up to them, one hand digging around in the pocket of his trousers and the other one being used to rub himself just under th nose... Druid Girl made extra sure to remember which hand and arm had been used for which task, as the last thing she wanted was to shake hands with a snot-covered hand.

Fishing out a small sack from his pants, the farmer opened it up, took a look inside it, then re-sealed it with a piece of string and tossed it over to the group. Druid Girl managed to catch the soaring money-bag with both hands, and let out a huff - couldn't he just have [i]handed[/i] it over to them instead? She took it upon herself to open the bag and give the amount of a once-over, which seemed to annoy the farmer.

"Ain't trustin' I be payin' my dues?"
"No, it's not that, sir. I just want to make that you're paying the correct amount, not too little or too much."
"Hah! As if I'd be affordin' to give ya'll more than what was promised to be the price." The man said, spitting a globule of snot-fleghm onto the ground next to him. "In any case, lil' missy, that there be the right 'mount, down to the last copper."

Druid Girl didn't disbelieve or distrust the man, but she made sure to count the coins regardless. Once that was done, she attached the pouch to her little belt and nodded in confirmation to her allies.

"Well, despite things, it seems you got back home safe and sound." She then said to the farmer, who proceed to scratch his chin absentmindedly.
"Yup. Fine job ya'll did, protectin' me from all nothin' that which showed up." He replied, snarkily.
"Nothing showed up this time? What about that poor woman and her ruined wagon? If you'd been on the road ysterday like her, you migh-"
"But I wasn't." He said, eyes half-closed and a stoney, cold expression on his face. "Whoever that lady was, she musta been travellin' close to dusk or dawn, which any farmer worht his salt knows ain't the time to be on the roads. She took a gamble on gettin' home, she paid the price."
"How can you brush it off like that?" Druid Girl asked, obviously frustrated.
"Look, missy, out here, people dyin' ain't something new. Farmers, town watchmen, travllers and heck, even adventurers like yourselves. People wind up dead almost every day. You stop to weep for every last poor soul who bit the dust, ya ain't gonna be doin' nothing but crying all the time. What happened to that woman was a shame, but there ain't nothin' that can be done about it now."
"... You're wrong on that point."
".. Hm, whassat?"
"Because we're also here to kill the goblins in this area."
"Oh, so you thinkin' tehms were goblins that di her in? Well, even if they weren't the varmints who choked her to croak, gettin' rid of those pesky lil' gremlins sure would make the area a lot safer, no doubt."

The farmer then turned around on his heel, obviusly no longer interested in trading words. He waved them off as he walked away, a half-assed casual wave, telling them they were welcome to stay as long as they needed in order to prepare for their 'goblin hunt'. Druid Girl followed the old codger with her gaze as he walked away, until he disappeared into the barn on the far end of the farm. Letting out a sigh, she turned to Big Red and Steppe Archer.

"So... Do either of you need to prepare anything? According to what the farmer, as well as the Guild said, the goblin nest should be north-west from here. Somewhere in the woodlands just beyond here, if I recall." The caramel-skinned girl asked and said, waiting to see if her comrades were ready or not to depart.

She also turned to look at the chickens clucking as they perused around the grounds. Her eyes started to sparkle slightly, and a single drop of saliva tried to escape and drop from the corner of her mouth...

"[i]... Roast chicken...[/i]" She said to herself, hungrily.