When the officers trapped the goblin it went berserk. It tore chunks of dough from its bread bun hat and hurled them at the officers as they tried to apprehend it. Strings of melted cheese coated everyone together with a sweet red sauce which reeked of a rancid preserving agent. All the while the goblin shrieked in the most ear-splitting tone. It behaved as no goblin has behaved since the time that was. The Queen had taken every precaution to finish those times, eradicate them. The goblin’s behaviour once in the holding cell was stranger still. It would not give its name nor clan reference. Larell thought he sensed confusion when it had been asked its clan designation, as though it had never belonged to any. This was another in a line of disconcerting occurrences making Larell tremble with fear for his beloved world. It was clear the goblin was ill. It no longer shrieked. That had stopped some while ago. Now it sat hunched against a far wall, its double hooded
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