There was no end to the corners. Turn after turn just led to more turns after turns. Holsley simply could not understand how they had managed to get this lost. Surely, they must be going in circles. Still, it seemed...
Don’t leave me, Holsley. The flames jolted up the bloated chests as panicked goblins rushed about in a bid to put out the fire under Stabby Toe’s orders. Holsley caught their blurry forms as an afterthought — a mere background...
Holsley was surprised at how deep the tunnels went. Initially, he had imagined a small network of roughly dug-out tunnels leading to perhaps two or three rooms at the most. Inside those rooms, no doubt, he’d find dozens of goblins...
Broken branches, flattened grass, heavy hoof prints, and the tracks of wheels left behind in the dry mud. In short, the trail couldn’t have been more obvious if they had been following the path of an irritated rhino. It seemed...
Roland held his breath as his head was forced back beneath the water. The subzero chill frosted his face, blinded his eyes, and made his skin come alive with the sensation of a thousand tiny needles prickling it all over....
The unlikely travelling companions were courting nightfall by the time the wheel had been fixed. Fortunately, Merhim had been spinning yarns about his many ventures through the Longwalk Woods for the past hour or so. If Holsley hadn’t known any...
‘Ouch.’ Holsley rubbed his forehead. For a moment there, he’d forgotten that he was trapped inside what amounted to a wooden casket. The cart had jolted, waking him suddenly and forcing him to smack his head into the ceiling. Hard....
It took Holsley a few minutes to piece together the jumble of thoughts and questions assailing his mind. Had Roland become a pirate? Apparently. What, exactly, had he done to deserve a death sentence? Stolen something, presumably. What was Holsley...
The mace swung high, and Roland ducked low. If the young rogue had stuck around long enough to see it, he might’ve caught the scathing impact the sudden blow had left behind on the dungeon wall. He didn’t, though. Instead,...
The narrow alley was wedged between the baker’s and the butcher’s, so each morning, Holsley would wake to a mouth-watering scent not unlike sausage and bacon butties. Sometimes, the proprietors would throw away scraps of fat or crusted bread, which...
