Shinshi Goburin

A narrow road. A hedgerow heavy with dust and summer insects.
A small goblin stands just to one side of the path, dressed far better than the situation strictly requires. He bows — properly, carefully — as though you were expected. Ah. How fortunate, he says, with visible relief. A witness of good standing. He straightens, smoothing his cuffs. Do forgive me for stopping you so abruptly. I find myself in the middle of a minor difficulty, and etiquette insists I acknowledge passers-by before matters grow… impolite. A pause. A polite smile that does not quite explain itself. Geoffrey, he adds, after a moment. For the purposes of introduction. He gestures vaguely down the road, where raised voices might be getting closer. You are, of course, under no obligation to involve yourself. Still—
his eyes flick briefly toward the sound, then back to you,
—it would be most improper of me not to ask whether you prefer to walk on… or hear the short version. He waits. Patient. Perfectly civil.
As though nothing at all were about to go wrong.