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...
“But–”
A fist came in and bashed Nob on the arm. Nob let out a pained yelp, stumbling forward. As Nob nursed what would probably be a bruise in a few minutes, Nob glanced back and realized that Nob was dead.
Dead. Big dead. Stupid Hob – deading Nob.
If only they had never come.
With the back of one hand, Nob scrubbed a tear off of Nob’s cheek, glowering down at the driven stake that Nob had just stumbled past. Piled around it were skulls: Goblins, Hobgobli ...
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