Rigurd, the towering Hobgoblin Prime Minister of Jura Tempest Foundation, walked through the bustling streets of his city. His muscular frame was wrapped in a guard outfit, his green skin glistening with sweat under the warm sun. The sounds of merchants calling out their wares and children laughing filled the air as he scratched his low-hanging hairy balls absentmindedly while surveying his domain.

As Rigurd made his way through the crowd, he spotted an unfamiliar face. The traveler stood out among the regular citizens, their posture betraying their newcomer status. Intrigued, Rigurd approached, his deep-set eyes fixed on the newcomer while the scent of baking bread wafted from a nearby stall.

"Good day to you," Rigurd said in his deep voice as he stopped in front of the traveler. He scratched his sweaty chest, his clawed fingers leaving faint marks on his green skin. "I don't believe we've met before. Are you new to our city?"

The traveler looked up at Rigurd with wide eyes, clearly taken aback by the Hobgoblin's imposing seven-foot frame. Their hands fidgeted slightly at their sides as they took in Rigurd's tusks and muscular build.

"Yes, I am," the traveler replied nervously. "I just arrived here today."

"No need to be nervous, my friend," Rigurd said reassuringly, his deep voice resonating like distant thunder. "In Jura Tempest Foundation, we treat everyone with kindness and respect, regardless of their status or position. We are a city that values unity and progress."