Outside the rains pour down hard on the Goblin Island. The inn's sign sways and creaks (TM) loudly in the wind. Once inside, a roaring hearth (TM) welcomes the weary travellers, and they are greeted by a big stub of a man (TM), the innkeeper. This one is a shrewd businessman, his inn have all the things romantic travellers enjoy: whispered conversation by the glowing embers of the fireplace (TM), dark and forgotten tales (TM), creaking floorboards and soft-cushioned beds (TM), sour-faced locals that regarded the newcomers with disdain (TM), loaves of bread with cheese and large mugs of honeymead (TM), and many things more to discover.
The walls are lined with stuffed creatures, some known to you, some unknown. The one above the hearth has a plaque that reads "the Hobgoblin". It looks very funny.
The Hobgoblin inn is a perfect place to start an adventure (TM). Most of the townsfolk are paid handsomely by the innkeeper to entertain travellers with barfights (everyone joins in instantly), gambling (all dice are loaded) and myths (which most of the townsfolk are starting to take for truth - which could turn out rather badly for them).