aithen

       Two goblins hunched over a gravesite, shoveling dirt over their shoulders. Gafden’s shovel thudded against something hard. He struck his shovel against it again, confirming his find. Crouching, he scraped his hand over the dirt, revealing a plank of wood.        “Master! We found it!” Gafden dropped the shovel and danced a jig on the grave. “We found him!”      A hooded figure in tattered robes ambled toward them from under the still and silent leaves of an ancient twisted maple. Perking up, the broad leaves swayed and rustled in the breeze as the cloaked form moved away.      A rasp rattled from under the figure’s hood as it tried to speak. A cough to clear his throat, then the man spoke. “Why have you stopped digging?”                    Eyes wide, Gafden scrambled for his shovel and resumed digging alongside the other goblin. Gafden’s disfigured foot did not keep him from outpacing his companion.       “Keep up, Bagshead. Master want this one while it still