It had been a simple mistake. He’d been through the caves many times before and believed he knew his way well enough. Yet when Strubs became distracted by a small glimmer reflecting the light of the lantern he held — it turned out to be a spoon, an exceptional find for such a place — he found his fellow gobs had moved on farther than he expected. He hurried after their familiar clatter, a unique mixture of pots and pans accented by the percussive clink of chainmail, yet the more he scrambled to catch them, the more distant their sounds became.
Lost, Glimmk slowed up and attempted to retrace his steps. He was sure he’d found his way, yes, it was certainly the way, and a sound in the tunnel with him momentarily convinced him his instincts were right. He held his lantern high, briefly expecting to see the knobby faces of his goblin friends. But in an instant, he realized the sound he’d heard was not the friendly rustle and clank of his gob troop, but something else entirely.
A limited number of color prints of Lost are available in my Big Cartel store.