The murkier the waters got in the lands of Göll, the greater the repugnitude of the air. The dew soaked trees, draped in their gnarled and winding barks, were all that Dyguck needed as he watched his prey. The fattest and most pock marked dire rat he had ever laid his yellowed eyes upon is just ahead. Stupidly it grazes a delicious pile of filth by a dark river. It was enveloped within a rare stroke of sunlight piercing through the ever gray sky. Dyguck’s serrated gape cracked a quiet smile upon his greening cheeks. When a Goblin smiles, the disgusting things of the world rejoice. And this is the wet season. The days when crawling refuse bubbles over to break every waterborne bank and surface this side of The Veil. Hushed buzzing from stinging insects sifting their way through the soupy fog were music to Dyguck’s pointed ears. Now was his time, more than any other, to risk the run around his burrow. “She’s fat., ripened with her lot I reckon… hehehe!” He whispered in a tiny grinding voice. His thoughts were lost in manic invocations. “She’ll give us lots of litters, I’ll raise ‘em right this time, I’ll have me thirty more Darkclaws or so, they’ll all listen to me yes yes yessss! All o’ dem this time ‘round oh yes!” The gray-furred rat was about the size of a large tree stump. He brought forth his most clean and dry rope from a patchwork satchel. Eyes never straying from his prey, he relinquished his cloak bundle, bags and trusted scimitar, caked in rust, down between a sufficiently hidden tree and thorn bush. Eyes locked, he waded into the stinking river. Its current weak and ridden with mildewed leaves. His arms felt stiff as a board holding aloft his dried rope. Slowly now he sunk ever lower, til the scum of the river smeared past his upper lip one by one leaving only his crooked nose for breathing. As he churned through the muck a bundle of soggy brown leaves and rocks was struck by a lazy floating stick just ahead of him. A slight stirring creased through the water. Kerplunk! bubbles foamed up. His eyes grew wide and his movements stilled. The rat froze. The twitching of it’s nose broke its erratic pattern and its ears blinked straight towards Dyguck! “Oh nooooo!” He screamed internally. A cloud of dirt burst up. The rat scurried in a flash about a foot to the side of its feasting heap and stopped to look about itself slowly. An eternal minute went by with nothing more than the quiet passing of the river. The bulbous rat waddled slowly back to its morsel and began lazily munching once more. Dyguck closed his bloodshot burning eyes and once they opened again, he continued his stalking. The pain stirring in his stiff arms caused him to bite his lower lip with a jolt. He crept closer, rewarded by the audible sounds of nibbles from the prized dire rat. The coolness of the river seemed to grip around his chest, his breathing quivered through his nostrils. His right hand gripped tight around the rope’s noose again and again, with each step. The rats eyes seemed to lull back into its skull, its cheeks puffy and full, its legs lazy and splayed. Dyguck tightened his grip hard. He flexed the whole of his upper body, eyes wide and brow furrowed towards the dire rat. Then he felt it. A slow and sinister ripple crest against his nose and arms from behind him. A cold horrifying sting formed upon the back of his skull. He grit his teeth together as his lips were twitching uncontrollably. The current rushed from behind him unnaturally. A deep guttural laughter broke out, breathing hot breath upon the back of his neck. The sting of the cold dagger upon his head increased, yet he watched ahead with tears welling up in his eyes, at the rat. It flashed its gaze right at him as it wisped away. The luminescent yellow of the rat’s eyes burned through the air like a strike of lightning. It streaked into the shadowed edge of the treeline. A behemoth black scaled hand gripped the side of his arm, dagger still at his back. A voice bellowed once more in a cocksure hiss from a towering presence behind him. “Do you ssspeak the common tongue frail green thing?” Dyguck felt the vice like grip of the cold water close in around his chest ever tighter once more. His brain was alarmed to the chanting of “Escape! Escape Escape!!!” But, how could he?
