Goblin Diaries, Vol 20: A Narrow Escape
(From the April 18, 2025 Newsletter)
9th
Day of Snow Moon, 1219th Year, Human Age of Magic …
I’m writing this journal entry from the
safety of a small cave near the pass between the Darinian and Faricican
mountain chains. It is hard to see the position of the sun from my hiding
place, but I believe it is mid-morning now.
I had hoped to reach the pass before
nightfall yesterday, but dusk overtook me, and in the tall grass with the moon
not rising until late, I found it impossible to proceed without losing my way
in the darkness. I was nervous about predators, so I built a small campfire in
the middle of the trail, something that usually keeps them at bay.
I planned to stay awake and vigilant until
the moon rose to light my way. Unfortunately, I was more tired than I was aware
and fell asleep, waking in the early hours of dawn to a smoldering campfire and
a sound that brought my heart into my throat—a distant yapping and yowling that
resembled a cruel laughter.
Hyenas!
I had no idea how many there were—their
voices all sounded the same—but they were quickly getting closer. I leapt to my
feet, slinging my pack and waterskin over my shoulders and took off running as
fast as I could. I cursed myself for falling asleep, for I soon realized I was
much closer to my destination than I had imagined and would have avoided this
confrontation had I remained awake.
The tall, thick grass along the sides of
the trail began to thin and disappeared completely as the track opened onto a
rocky plain at the base of a line of low hills that comprised a break in the
chain of peaks that loomed on either side. The pass through the mountains!
I was halfway across the plain when a pack
of over a dozen spotted hyenas broke from the tall grass behind me. Their
yowling laughter rose in pitch and volume, and I knew I had been spotted. Their
proximity gave me second wind, and I sprinted toward the rocks ahead with
everything I had, hoping to find refuge there.
Two of the beasts were nipping at my heels
when I scrambled to the top of a large boulder and caught my breath, safely out
of their reach. I watched from my precarious perch as the pack gathered around
the base of my rock, their frenzied laughter reaching a fever pitch.
From my vantage point, I could see the
entrance to a small cave not far away. It looked about the right size for a goblin to get
through, but too small for any of the spotted canines gathered below. But how
could I reach it?
The gods of Urgule were with me, and my
opportunity for escape presented itself on the brink of disaster. A large
female, who seemed to be the pack leader, tried to climb the boulder I was on.
I removed my pack. Holding the straps with both hands, I swung it at her,
trying to knock her off the rock.
I succeeded in dislodging her, but she
caught the pack in her jaws as she fell. Its contents spilled when she hit the
ground, including my precious cache of dried bowfin. Immediately, the entire
pack was fighting over the food. I saw my chance.
I leapt from the boulder and sprinted for
the cave entrance, scrambling through the narrow opening seconds before the
first hyena arrived, poking its head through the aperture to snap in
frustration at empty air.
So, here I am, safe for the moment.
Although I’ve lost my pack and the food it contained, I do have my waterskin
and enough liquid to last a few days. The pack has gathered at the mouth of the
cave, but they cannot get to me. I pray to the gods of Urgule they give up
their vigil soon and I can be on my way.
