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to diminish the goblins’ enjoyment in the slightest.
    No, what it took to kill the party was a massive explosion from the rear of the camp that sent chunks of wood and unknown trinkets flying through the air. The music stopped abruptly, and the dancers immediately crouched into ready positions. Some of the warriors reached for the weapons at their sides, and the archers on the perimeter turned their attention to the smoking husk. It was their storage building, now bathed in a soft red glow from the pieces that were still on fire. For a moment, silence descended upon the camp, save only for the soft crackling of the flames.
    Then they heard the clacking of claws and the scraping of feet.
    * * *
    Eric said nothing as he stared at the blade still quivering in the wood less than two inches from his head. There hadn’t been time to react, not rationally, when they heard the explosion. Eric had merely glanced at the storage building, seen something coming, and hurled himself to the side. So great was the force from the blast that the axe Grumph had been carrying whipped through one set of the cage’s bars with ease, sinking at least halfway into the wooden barriers on the other side. Eric was intimately familiar with that spot; his head had been there only an instant before.
    “The fuck?” Gabrielle said at last, eyes trained on the smoldering building uncomfortably close to them. It was strange, the way the flames were cascading through the smoke; it almost appeared that there were shapes moving in the wreckage. It must be a mirage. Her party members were the only ones large enough to make such shadows, and they were all stuck in cages.
    “We need to go,” Thistle said, grabbing his companions’ attention. While the others had been caught up in shock, he’d examined the hole that the axe had carved through the cage’s bars. It wasn’t too large, big enough for him to fit through without much trouble, though the same couldn’t be said for the humans. In this instance, however, the cage’s flexibility worked to its disadvantage. While a material that moved made breaking through more difficult, once a hole was carved, it meant areas could be stretched as needed.
    “Go?” Eric asked, still unwilling to look away from the axe that tried to behead him.
    “Vamoose, escape, do the kobold charge, run away,” Thistle clarified. “Someone blowing up part of an entrenched goblin encampment means an attack, and I prefer not to be unarmed and trapped in a cage during such circumstances.”
    “You’re wrong,” Gabrielle declared. “These goblins are smart and safe. No one could have surprised them like this. It was probably just some magic item they didn’t know was going to blow up. We’re in no danger.”
    “That theory is a good one,” Thistle complimented. “But it doesn’t explain why the goblins all seem to be braced for attack.”
    A quick glance confirmed he was right. The children and non-warrior goblins were being herded toward the other side of the camp, while those with armor and weapons slowly advanced toward the remains of the storage shed. It was then that Eric’s human hearing finally caught up to what the goblins’ large ears had already noticed.
    “What is that noise?”
    Thistle and Gabrielle cocked their own heads, listening intently. Now that he’d pointed it out, there was a strange clacking sound coming from the burning building. To Gabrielle, it was completely alien; however, Thistle went white as a wight when he heard it.
    “We need to get out and get clear, now.” Thistle tugged on Eric’s tunic. In a motion quicker than one would have suspected his knobby form capable of, the gnome slipped through the hole and landed softly on the ground.
    “Why? Do you know what it is?” Eric asked.
    Thistle opened his mouth to speak, and as he did, the first of the monsters stepped into view. It was hideous—six feet tall with red, gnarled flesh along its twisted body. Atop its shoulders sat the