Fellion peered around the bend in the narrow canyon created by the stream; ahead of his was total darkness. The sides of the canyon wall had been worn smooth by the rushing water ages ago and now the barely trickling stream gurgled slowly past him leading into the dark. “I can’t see anything Snik.”
“That old guy in town swore bandits were using this canyon as a base camp for their raids. I am pretty sure he was right,” Snikle’s purse was bare and he needed this job to fill it back up. “I ain’t goin’ back empty handed. Or sleeping in a stable again.”
“Ye did loosen his lips with an ale or two,” Fellion pointed out. “Perhaps ye got some of the details wrong. There’s another canyon up near…”
Snikle threw his friend a devilish grin. “My friend, if everything he says bares true, the tombs beneath their camp will fill our purses forever.”
“Aye, but at what cost?” The ghim always had such a grim outlook on life.
“Let me take a look,” The hobbin sighed and pushed past his friend. Ghim have good sight in darkness, but a hobbin’s was even better. He inched forward and then peered forward, blinking his eyes a few times. Slowly his eye adjusted and the canyon walls appeared out of the black. Following farther down the canyon, he could see the stream disappear around the bend. From the bend he could see a faint glow flickering…a campfire. Straining his ears he could barely make out the distant noise of a camp, chatter, fire crackling, a spoon hitting a pot. He sniffed the air, “Goblyns. There’s a goblyn camp up ahead. I hate those little bastards.”
Calling them ‘little’ made Fellion chuckle, most of the goblyns would be an inch or two taller than Snikle. He knew there was a little history between Snikle and goblyns, his friend hated the little green-skinned creatures with a passion. “Think ye can sneak up and get the drop on ‘em?”
“What? Of course I can!” Snikle seemed a tad offended by the lack of faith in his skills. He stepped out of the shadows and pounded his chest, unfortunately forgetting he was holding his short sword and wearing a metal breast plate. A loud, resounding clang echoed down the canyon. The faint noise down the canyon suddenly went silent. His moment of bravado had given up their position.
The ghim grumbled under his breath then stepped from the shadows, his hefty axe in his hands, “Lad, someday ye will be death of me!”
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