While passing the windmill, we saw a curious thing. Goblins were squatting in the shadow of the building, doin

While passing the windmill, we saw a curious thing. Goblins were squatting in the shadow of the building, doing what goblins do best — stuffing their faces. They had gutted sacks of flour and were spreading the wealth — some fried pancakes on an open fire, others threw pieces of dough into a bubbling pot making some kind of dumplings, yet others just rolled around in the white powder, shoving clumps down their throats. All of them, without exception, were guzzling ale from kegs nearby, spilling it over each other and bellowing songs. When they spotted us, the merry goblins — possibly due to the ale — stood their ground. Instead of fleeing, they started to whistle and wave, inviting us to join their feast. In response, the baron...