That was the age when each goblin was taken up to neutral territory and abandoned. It was a trial to see who had learned the layout of the tunnels and corridors that twisted and branched back on one another. Many spent days wandering in the darkness. Jig himself had taken nearly eight hours to find his way back to the lair. But he had been smart. A few weeks before, he had bribed several of the older goblins with food swiped from Golaka’s kitchen. In return, they told him the tricks of the tunnels. He learned how to feel the slope of the ground and to listen for the echoes that told of open caverns. He learned the general layout well enough to avoid the hobgoblins or the lizard-fish and their lake.

He also heard many stories of the horrors that guarded the hidden tunnel to the lower caverns, and the gruesome death that waited for any goblin foolish enough to wander alone and lost through the tunnels.

“Worse than lizard-fish?” he had asked, trying not to tremble.

The older goblins laughed. “When your skin shrivels up and your bones tear out of your flesh, you’ll wish you’d died a pleasant death among the lizard-fish.”

Forty-one goblins, including Jig, went into the darkness that day. Nineteen made it back. Those with torches died first, since torchlight served as a beacon for hobgoblins and other creatures. Patrols found the bodies of a few, some killed by hobgoblin swords, others by arrows or the occasional beast that roamed the deeper tunnels. But the ugliness of those deaths was nothing compared to Jig’s nightmares about the others, the ones who were never found. There were many stories about the inhabitants of the lower tunnels. Not a single one ended happily, and most made murder by hobgoblins sound like a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.

Jig had memorized everything he could learn about these tunnels, and he could find his way blind and deaf. He had moved through the darkness, one hand always on the wall, relying only on his memory. That day, memory had proven stronger than fear and confusion, and Jig had made it home.

But the adventurers wanted him to lead them beyond goblin territory and the neutral tunnels. Once he crossed those borders, he would be as lost as any surface-dweller.

What could he do? He wouldn’t lead them back to the goblin lair. His job was to protect the lair. Even if Porak and the others had sent him off on his own, he still had to try to stop the adventurers.