<div class="floatright">(http://brewminate.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/020818-47-Bronze-Age-Near-East-History.jpg)</div><strong>Where:</strong>Entrance to Malag Adaar village<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Enlil, Evelyn, Sabri<br/><br/>It's a hot Summer afternoon when the three spot their destination. Ahead, a sparse assembly of ancient houses nestles on a hillside meadow. One should be hesitant to call this a village at all. A dozen houses with stone walls and low roofs, and a larger communal house comprise the settlement the three have been sent to protect from goblins. From afar, it's obvious that only half or the houses are inhabited. What little livestock is visible is either sickly or very young. Orchards and fields surrounding the village seem to be bringing in more than enough food, however. A brook flows down the hillside nearby. In all, apart from its remoteness and small size, this seems to be a pleasant place to live.<br/><br/>Someone gifted in languages might notice that the village's name translates as "second wife's pasture" from the old dialect, but that's hardly an important information.<br/><br/>From closer up, the situation seems better. The six inhabited houses seem in good repair; even the uninhabited houses are in good condition, with well-maintained thatching and solid doors. The communal building seems recently whitewashed, its uneven stone walls walls a pearly white.<br/><br/>Two dozen villagers mill around, busy with chores. There are no children or old people to be seen, and only four out of the two dozen are men. There are shouts as our three heroes come closer, and one of the men comes out to meet them while the rest assemble behind him. There's a murmur of anticipation as they size up their saviors from afar, speculating and hoping. One of the girls points at Enlil, hand over her mouth as she shares a giggle with the knot of girls beside her. Most of them are of marriageable age and quite excited.<br/><br/>The man coming out to meet you is a big one, with a bushy brown beard, unkempt hair, and clad in a brown short tunic. He must be the village leader, Maltum. He's clutching a wooden hoe in his meaty hands; disappointment in his eyes as he realizes there's only three of you. He is used to disappointment, however, and doing with what he has at hand is second nature to him. By the time he plods up to the three of you, he's already calculating how to best use you - a big warrior and two servant girls against a horde of goblins.<br/><br/>"An's blessing upon you." His voice is deep and pleasant. There is a thick scar on his forehead where a slave mark once was. An is the father-deity of the oldest gods, lord of the stars and sky. Very few people in the cities worship him. "May the sun and stars always light your path. You're here for our goblin problem, right?"