Goblin Diaries, Vol 23: The Hyenas Are Gone!

 From the 07/18/2025 Newsletter:


12th Day of Snow Moon, 1219th Year, Human Age of Magic …

Finally! The female hellhound and her mongrel pack have moved on. I woke before dawn this morning after a delirious, nightmare-filled sleep and peered out of the cave entrance to see … nothing!

I lay at the mouth of the cave, peering into the gathering light, desperately hoping the rising sun would reveal that it wasn’t a hallucination brought on by dehydration. I’ve not had a drop of water since draining my waterskin yesterday, and my eyes are so dry and scratchy that closing the lids gives no relief. Yet, as the sun rose and the shadows disappeared, there was not a hyena in sight.

The scent of the pack lingers, but there were so many keeping vigil for so long, how could their smell ever be entirely gone? I’ve sniffed, watched, and listened for hours. It is now mid-morning, and if the pack was lurking nearby, surely they would have given themselves away by now.

I’ve stuffed my empty waterskin into my pack, along with a dozen or so throwing stones I’ve gathered from the floor of the cave, in case I need to defend myself. I don’t want to do anything rash, and I have a plan.

 I’ve given it much thought, and the first thing I intend to do upon crawling from my hiding place is to climb that rock about thirty longspaces away. Its height should provide me temporary safety from any lingering predators, and I might be able to get my bearings on where the nearest water source might be. I just hope I have enough strength for the climb—not only am I dehydrated, but I haven’t eaten in days.

I don’t think I can wait any longer. It’s now or never. I’m going to try and make my escape. May the Gods of Urgule be with me.

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