(Also Titled: The Ongoing Diary of Thppgrg, Goblin Minion)

Dear Diary,

Just got a new gig as a low-level dungeon guard for Dark Lord Torkelheim, which is all but guaranteed to end in tragedy. This will be my account of how I get killed by adventurers, by the spells of adventurers and/or my own boss, by other dungeon dwellers, by the pet of an adventurer or of another dungeon-dweller, by a malfunctioning trap of some kind, by a curse, or possibly by some other means too horrible and unthinkable to even contemplate, which as Mother always says, is pretty much inevitable.

Gunnar the Huntsman studied the tracks in front of him, grimacing when he saw those made by a pair of large birds. Trina, a young woman who had accompanied him on his annual hunting trips to Fairview in the past, fidgeted at his side. Why the new mayor of Fairview had suggested she accompany him this time, in spite of the protestations the mayor had made just weeks before regarding the barbaric practice of “turkey hunting,” was beyond him. Trina had proven herself capable in the past, though, so he had allowed her to come along.

“What’s wrong, master huntsman?” she finally inquired.

“At this time of year, the turkeys spread out, almost as if they know that one of them will end up as part of the Fairview Feast. This is the first time in my ten years here that they’ve paired up.” Gunnar followed the tracks with his eyes, noting that they diverged a handful of yards away at a yew tree.

Trina spotted the claw marks on the tree. “I know this!” she exclaimed. “The turkeys sharpen their claws in anticipation of a fight. It looks like the larger of the two went left, while the smaller went right.”

Anton Swordbender swaggered out of the tavern, heading for Puffin Bluff after a full night of drinking. While he hadn’t succeeded in finding company before he left, he knew he caught the eye of at least one lass who would be easier to persuade later. A forced cough interrupted his thoughts as he reached the bluff. Anton recognized the halfling standing at a nearby tree.

“Thaddeus,” Anton nodded at the small humanoid.

“We meet again, my old enemy.” Thaddeus Owens smirked. Anton never quite knew why the halfling had it out for him, but he found himself frequently annoyed by the diminutive creature’s futile attempts at revenge…

Most adventurers know the sound of a wild boar rustling through the underbrush. But when the boar turn out to be the underbrush, very few are prepared for the surprise.

[previously]

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These huge porcine creatures are often thought to be only a rumor. They have never been sighted outside of the fey realms, where they spend most of their time basking in sunny clearings. They resemble mossy mounds covered with pine shrubs and small trees when at rest. It is rare to find more than one hogwood together, but they have been known to associate with family colonies of porky pines or to serve as guardians for powerful fey…

(Illustration by Chris McFann)

Most adventurers know the sound of a wild boar rustling through the underbrush. But when the boar turn out to be the underbrush, very few are prepared for the surprise.

[previously]

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The typical “adult” form of these creatures, the porky pine bears a resemblance to a small coniferous tree. Wide needle-like growths along its sides and on its back give it a conical appearance. They typically form small family units of three to six members and several young hedge hogs. A porky pine is quick to attack intruders and rarely backs down from a fight, a quality that makes them desirable as attack beasts for fey creatures or others with strong ties to nature…