Gelth led two of his goats to the eastern neighborhood. Down the path he went, leading the bleating creatures between the trees. He normally would not go chat with the fishermen, but his grandson was playing with the village boys while his wife worked at the inn, and he wanted to talk to someone about the stranger he had met. Lobah always had wise words, and she could tell him something to ease his mind.
The goats suddenly struggled against his leash, bucking and crying out in terror.
“What, what is this?” the old goblin asked. “Settle down, settle down you, whoa!”
Something moved. Gelth peered down through the trees. Aged though his eyes were, his darkvision worked perfectly. There is a shadowed spot was a small pile of loose earth, next to a hole.
A hole with something in it.
Gelth ducked, and the javelin went over his head, wounding a goat. The old goblin let the animals go, and they tore back down the path. He ran after them, trying to process what he had seen. Heavy feet thudded into the ground. The goblin dove into the underbrush, and found a place to seclude himself behind a tree trunk.
The footsteps slowed, but continued. He heard a hollow voice, like someone speaking into a well.
“Where did the child go?” it asked.
“It seemed that it was an old man,” said another voice, with the same hollowness to it.
“Points ready,” snapped another voice. “Proceed with quiet, suppress the spy.”
The feet moved around him. Gelth dared not breathe. They searched for five minutes, then dispersed after reporting no contact.
He finally sucked in a huge gulp of air, and then forced his feet to move. As he went under a tree where the voices had been near earlier, a shout went up. Terrified he glanced upwards to see that two of the creatures, the strange animations of wood and metal, had climbed the tree to wait for him. They slammed down onto him, hitting him with their powerful fists. The pain was intense for a few seconds, and then he felt nothing. Forever.
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