The problem was Grinless himself got lost. He shrugged, not having a plan other than to leave his village and old life behind. Having lived in swamps and marshes he decided he'd like to see the drier lands to the East, full of treacherous mountains and barren wastelands; that sounded nice.

Except, being lost, Grinless continued south into more marshes and damp woods. He avoided paths but one main road kept winding its way across his. He also avoided other travelers by moving at night and sleeping the day, but still some annoying people claiming to be an adventuring group, the Steel Shirts, greeted him and welcomed him to their camp (though he was already camped there!). While leaving, they blathered about their quest for the haunted Hall of Rhelgar, with the fabled Indestructible Shield of Habor, and the Undefeatable Sword of Konam. Grinless farted, grumbling about stupid humans not knowing goblins hated them. Especially Grinless, who hated everyone and just wanted to be left alone.

Towards midnight, when he thought he was far enough away from the humans he finally found a nice abandoned castle ruin. He liked the way a constant fog surrounded it yet the moon also made it glow eerily, and a non-existent wind constantly howled through it; rather charming and atmospheric. He huddled in a corner pile of damp, moldy rags and human-sized bones. Cozy! he thought. A bit famished, he decided to treat himself to a hunt. The fog made it confusing and hard to find his usual rodent prey, but luckily some adventurers left some nice juicy warhorses tied to a tree in front of the ruin. No one was around, so Grinless decided to do them a favor. He chose the biggest, climbed a tree, and did his special kamikaze spear dive with poking stick straight for the horse's eye. Even though it hit directly it took a while to actually die, making an awful racket, and broke his poking stick in the process. He was forced to borrow an axe from a saddlebag to hack off a hind leg, leaving the rest (still full of all that lovely blood) for the no doubt hungry adventurers to eat when they were done doing whatever. He dragged the leg thru the dirt and brush for seasoning and went back to the ruin and his campsite. He thought he heard a gruff voice saying something about, "Thought I heard the horses..." so he avoided the speaker in the fog.

Back in his corner of the castle he realized there was no good way to cook the horse leg; the area was too damp for a fire, no kindling, and his best poking stick had broke. He hunted around for something and eventually found what looked like a decaying old throne room—just vacated by a spectral Dread Knight going to investigate the party exploring the castle front. Beneath the throne was a large chest filled with useless glittery gems and shiny metal coins, but there was a sword and shield that gave Grinless an idea. On the way back he had to duck into an empty (but for two perplexed banshees) room to avoid the adventuring party's moving battle with the Dread Knight. The stone staircase (the only way up or down) crumbled after Grinless got back, and with all the noise and bother of the party upstairs, the goblin decided to leave—too crowded. He bid the ravenous rats and huge poisonous spiders farewell, and exited the castle. He was met with the dying screams of the party and the Dread Knight cackling something about the only weapons that could defeat him were hidden in the throne room.

Whatever that meant.

Outside he found some tamped down mud and a nice sitting rock, and set the fire on the shield's underside with the meat roasting on the sword; a nice setup. He congratulated himself on his cleverness. His enjoyment was short-lived, however. While smoking some horse jerky, a figure stumbled out of the darkness; a dwarf warrior, pale-in-the-face, muttering something about his whole party killed while he checked the horses only to find someone had killed his horse Bessa and taken a leg! Rudely, the dwarf sat down and began eating some jerky (though Grinless never invited him) as he introduced himself. “Goobdwib Macefist, adventuring warrior, now party-less,” he added sadly.

"And brainless," Grinless mumbled.

“What meat is this?” the dwarf said, chewing.

Grinless replied nastily, "Warhorse."

Goobdwib froze. The added shock apparently too much, the dwarf shortly after rolled over and went to sleep, eyes-wide open. When he was sure the dwarf was asleep, Grinless packed his things and left, the ash-smeared shield and greasy sword added to his pack. They might be useful, he decided.