Sheer terror was plastered over the goblins face as Dasher stared blankly towards the two yelling orcs as they continued to stand over his bleeding body. For the last half hour the two orcs had towered over him as they argued over what to do with their captive, their hands and fingers gestured wildly towards one another more and more as the heated discussion started to take a more violent turn.

Dasher winced and gripped at his bleeding leg as intense pain flared violently through his body, a crude yet effective arrow had pierced his body and pinned him to the ground. The bloodied missile was most likely a lucky shot by one of his pursuers, but that did not negate the fact of his current predicament. With tears flooding his eyes, the goblin held back a cry of pain as he awaited the final decision towards his ultimate fate.

“Enough talk!” One of the orcs said grizzly as his face glowed red in anger as a vein bulged from the creature's rage. “I say we kill the stupid creature and bring his head to Thok’rul.”

The orc reached for the weapon tied to his waist, a wicked and rusted sword that appeared to be haphazardly made from whatever materials had been scrounged up throughout their tribes’ encampment. The crude weapon looked to be stained with all manner of things as the orc gripped tightly around its hilt.

“And then Thok’rul would have our heads,” The other orc called out to his partner as he pushed the bloodthirsty orc back. “We bring the goblin in and then let the Chieftain decide what to do.” The other orc let out a deep and resentful growl as he stared his partner down. The first orc appeared ready to brawl with the second as he returned the stare.

“Don’t spoil the fun Throk,” The first orc said as his hand remained on the hilt of his weapon while his eyes dashed back and forth between their prey and his partner. “We already know what he’s going to do with this…thing.” The orc let out a snarl as his eyes remained locked towards the orc named Throk.

“And who was it that saved your hands from being cut off because you wanted to have fun? Who was it, Druk?” Throk poked at his chest with a powerful thrust of his fingers as he watched his partner drop his murderous intent as the mysterious event had been recalled into memory.

“I would’ve gotten away with it if it wasn’t for your fearful meddling!” Druk yelled violently as he bared his yellowed and rotting teeth. His knuckles turned white as snow as his mind returned to that rambunctious night filled with heavy drinking and merrily fucking.

“You’re an idiot Druk! Thok’rul was right in front of you the entire time!”

“Only because you wouldn’t stop laughing!” Druk pulled the crude sword from his waist; the flayed rope snapped and plummeted to the ground before quietly landing on the goblins bloodied feet.

“Druk!” Throk returned his partner’s gesture in kind. His own crudely made sword scratched loudly against a scabbard that looked to be in such a poor condition that Dasher wondered why the orc even had it to begin with.

These two orcs had a sordidly colorful history together it turned out.

The two of them roared at one another in fierce battle cries. With his free hand, Druk pounded loudly against his chest. Heavy thumps of flesh against flesh echoed tremendously in the once calm and peaceful spring air. Throk matched his newfound opponent's chest beating while the orc rattled his sword into the air, the hastily crafted weapon looked ready to fall apart at any moment.

The orcs continued to scream and pound their chests as they circled one another. Their faces filled with fiery rage as they threw insults at one another.

“Moronic dung eater!”

“Pig fucker!”

“Piss guzzler!”

“Slop spewer!”

On and on it went. Their insults were matched one for one, but the two orcs never appeared ready to make the first move. Dasher was unsure if the two were truly serious about fighting one another, but they were orcs and his racial cousins were well known to brawl at a moment’s notice. Even if such a brawl was uncalled for. Orcs as a whole loved a good fight.

Dasher lazily shook his head, his vision was beginning to blur as darkness slowly crept in from the edges of his sight. At this very moment, blood loss was the biggest threat to his life. If the orcs continued to ignore him, then their argument would be for not as their decision was decided for them by time itself.

The two orcs looked ready to do…Something. His pursuers had stopped their petty argument and readied their bodies to charge at one another. One of the orcs, Druk most likely, opened his mouth to say one final thing.

However, he never got his chance as a series of yelps and pain filled howls came from somewhere close by. Something was wrong with the Wargs and for a moment, silence filled the air.

Dasher tried his best to bring his head to a level where he could get a good view of what was happening but quickly gave up as he found the task to be too much for his weakening body.

In unison, Thruk and Druk roared with such rage that Dasher was convinced that their throats were going to tear themselves out of their bodies and lead the charge themselves. Whatever it was that had occurred, the orcs weren’t happy about it.

Throughout all of this noise, Dasher thought he had heard rustling coming from somewhere close by but quickly equated it to his mind playing tricks on his ailing body as he continued to lose blood at an ever increasing rate.

Bellowing at the top of their lungs, the two orcs roared defiantly at their unseen assailants as rage-filled voices blanketed the once quiet air as they charged out of sight.

The goblins ears flickered as he recognized the familiar twang of a bow. If it weren’t for the fact that he would soon fade into oblivion, Dasher would’ve considered it to have been the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

Throughout all of the noise of the screaming orcs, an unfamiliar voice called out as the goblin once again heard the sound of a bow being fired.

Dasher turned his head towards the source but saw nothing as he saw the back of an orc tumbling towards his figure. The goblin let out an exhausted sigh as the light of the sun faded out of his sight as the bloodied corpse of his racial cousin plummeted ever closer.

With an audible thud his now lifeless pursuers slammed into him, their last moments spent living was that of the pitiful wailing of a confused creature choking on their own blood.

The goblins vision faded from reality without so much as a cry uttered from his lips.

Iskra looked down in disgust as she gazed upon the bloodstained and ragged form of the creature known to the world as a goblin. She let out a sound of utter contempt towards the scarred beast as her eyes followed the actions of Velicion while the sorceress examined the unconscious thing. Dark red blood had been smeared along its prone body after the twins had removed the deceased orcs from atop of the goblin; old scars dotted its grey and blotched skin, its oversized jaw complimented the creatures’ flabby and equally ridiculous ears while its sunken eyes remained shut. This was something that the young girl was glad for, as she didn’t think she would be able to stomach the idea of having the creature look at her with its two beady eyes.

Her eyes roamed towards its leg where an arrow had managed to run itself through the muscle, if one could call the scarce amount of meat that the goblin had on its body as such. The crude arrowhead had bits of meat dangling off of its edges while blood oozed from its wound. Iskra was unsure if the thing would be able to survive for very much longer.

“It doesn’t look like it has long to live,” The young girl said to Velicion as the sorceress continued to check over the creatures ailing body. The elven woman was quite thorough in her examinations, something that irritated Iskra to no end. “Are you sure it will survive?”

The sorceress nodded as she turned to look back at her. Velicion didn’t appear to be all that concerned about the goblins health. “The creature is fine. If not treated properly the wound will be fatal, but that won’t be for a few more hours. With the proper care and plenty of rest, your little pet will be as good as new.”

Iskra found the elfs choice of words to be in poor taste. While she would prefer the goblin to live through its injuries, she wouldn’t be all that upset if the creature were to eventually succumb to its wounds. What was most upsetting, however, was the lingering notion that this thing was having been teased as her pet. The girl’s stomach roiled in agonizing disdain towards such an idea.

If she were to have a being capable of speech as a pet, then she would rather have something far more pleasing to the eye. Not this misshapen creature of the night that she now stood over. If she had a choice, then she would be more than happy to lord over a human or an elf and have them call her mistress. To her, that was what felt right. This goblin was nothing more than an insect that deserved to be crushed, nothing more.

Iskra watched as the sorceress returned to examining the goblin. The young girl stayed a short distance behind the lithe elfs shoulders while Velicion lifted the creature onto its side, most likely making sure that there were no wounds next to its spine.

The elven woman let out a satisfied grunt as she carefully placed the goblin onto its back.

“Besides the arrow,” Velicion said as she rose from the ground, loose grains of dirt fell from her legs as the sorceress brushed away at the soft earth that clung to her body. “There doesn’t appear to be any other wounds. Internal injuries are another matter, but there doesn’t appear to be any of the telltale signs.”

“So what happens next?”

“Well thankfully the arrowhead went all the way through, so we don’t have to worry about digging around and pulling it out.”

“What do you mean?” Iskra was sure that she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear next.

“It’ll be easier if I just show you.”

Yup, she really wasn’t going to like where this was going.

Iskra watched in silence as Velicion turned towards the boys and snapped her fingers as she spoke in elvish. In unison, the boys patted their bodies as if they were looking for something. It took the group a good while, but eventually Taloris managed to pull a dirt stained cloth from somewhere in one of his pants pockets. With a flick of his wrist, the black haired elf tossed the piece of fabric towards the sorceress as she called out towards the young elf. Most likely unsatisfied at what they had to offer.

The sorceress turned her attention towards the piece of cloth while she lowered her voice and began to chant a series of words that sounded bizarre and alien to the young human.

Iskra gasped as she watched the elfs hands begin to emit a glimmer of warm light. The words that the woman spoke continued to pour forth from her mouth as the sorceress placed her other hand on top of the cloth. With careful deliberation Velicion rubbed her hands together, using her glowing fingers to comb through the fabric as she turned the item over and over again. Before long, the light began to fade and the sorceress became quiet.

This was the first time that she had seen such magic. While the spell Velicion had initially casted upon being asked to prove her apparent sorcerous powers was quick and awe inspiring, the spell that the sorceress had just casted was different. This was more slow, deliberate, and pretty to gaze upon. Iskra had also felt somewhat at ease as she watched the woman rub the fabric between her hands. She wondered what the spell was capable of.

“Wha-“ The girl could say no more as the sorceress called for one of the teenaged elves. One of the twins bounded towards the head of the prone goblin.

Iskra was unsure which of the twins they were, as she didn’t even know both of their names, but decided that even if she did she most likely couldn’t tell them apart to begin with. Such was the nature of twins after all.

The girl watched with bated breath as the elven boy kneeled down and held onto the creature's shoulders, the young boy looked up towards the sorceress who proceeded to rub the piece of cloth around the shaft of the arrow. Blood and grime were carefully cleared away from the wounded area before Velicion lifted the creature’s leg and repeated the same process near the arrowhead.

What came next caused the color to fade from the young girls face.

With horror, Iskra watched as the sorceress broke the fletching off of the arrow's shaft and quickly tossed it aside. Velicion did the same for the arrows head and wordlessly threw it towards the feet of the second twin. The elven boy dragged the bloodied missile with his foot before kicking it behind him. The young girls’ stomach began to turn as she watched the elven woman lean towards what remained of the arrow and twisted the wooden shaft. Iskra brought a hand to her stomach as her eyes caught a glimpse of blood oozing from the wound.

The girl turned her head away and stared without remorse at a clean patch of grass as Velicion grabbed hold of the longer portion of the now broken arrow. With a grimace, she closed her eyes and tried her best to ignore the sounds of tearing sinew. A sickening and wet sounding slurp pierced her ears as the sorceress worked to get the arrow out of the wound.

Velicion said something in elvish before her ears heard the sound of something wet bounce off of the ground.

Blood wasn’t something that Iskra was good with.

“Are you done yet?” The girl asked in a childlike voice as she continued to stare upon the patch of grass. She was far too scared to look towards the woman that now acted as a field surgeon.

“Not quite.”

That was all Velicion had said before the sorceress began to chant for a second time. Soothing words of power flowed through the air as the wind started to pick up. The tall field grass swayed gently against the slight breeze as the elven woman continued to cast her spell.

After some time, everything went quiet.

“There we go,” Came the upbeat and proud voice of the elven woman. “Everything is almost as good as new.”

“Is it done?” Iskra was too fearful of what she might see if she were to take her eyes off of the ground.

“Of course.”

“Didn’t think you’d be squeamish at the sight of such little blood,” Argonoks echoing voice pierced the air around them as the dwarf drew closer to the sorceress. “Why this isn’t more than a little droplet.”

Iskra found the courage to see what the Fire Guard was talking about but quickly turned away as she caught sight of a ball of blood drenched dirt stuck between his gauntleted fingers. The dwarf bellowed out a laugh that the girl could only describe as having come from his nonexistent stomach.

“Don’t tease her like that,” Chided Velicion as she walked up behind the young girl before placing her hands over the girls' shoulders. “Not everyone is as vile as a dwarf you know.”

Argonok continued to bellow out his laugh, his dirt and blood drenched fingers danced in the air while the sorceress turned the girl towards the goblin. The older woman was taking extra care to ensure that Iskra didn’t catch the sight of the armored dwarf as he rolled the ball of dirt and blood in his gauntlets.

“Ignore him,” The sorceress said as she led Iskra towards her prize. “Just remember that dwarves are a crude race at the best of times.”

Iskra said nothing as she nodded her head as she kept her eyes locked onto her feet, warily of the sight of more blood.

“Now then,” Velicion said as the two women stopped just in front of the goblin's body. The creature drew ragged breaths as it slept. To Iskra, it still looked to be on deaths doorstep but the young human placed her faith in what the sorceress had to say. “We’ll need to stay here for a few days to make sure that no infection remains in its wound as well as any fever that may come of this whole ordeal. Once I’m satisfied that the goblin has the strength to continue forward, we’ll be on our way and finish up what we started. Sound good?”

“How long will it take?” The girls’ voice was weak as she continued to look at the decrepit creature. Her squeamish nature returning in full force as she caught the tiniest glimmer of blood from beneath its patched up leg.

“Three or so days at the very least, but we also have to consider the risk of the Captain sending out his men to chase after us if he hasn’t already.” Velicion gave the girls shoulders a good squeeze as she leaned into her ear. “After that we can start our little lessons.”

Nearly two full days had passed since Velicion had first applied her magic and healed the ailing goblin. Though much to Iskra’s annoyance, the foul creature had yet to wake up from its injury induced coma.

The sorceress had also been adamant that the young girl tended to the goblin while it lay unconscious. Iskra had sat next to the goblin for hours on end, the young had been told to watch for a rising fever or if the scarred tissue showed signs of a vicious infection.

She wasn’t sure what to look for in the case of an infection, and Velicion had done little to soothe the worries of the untrained medical practitioner. The girl had simply been told to look for pustules or a sickening smell coming from the creature’s body.

So far none of that had occurred.

“How’s our doctor and patient doing?” The sound of Velicions footsteps followed in the wake of sorceress’s voice. Iskra turned to look back at the lithe elf.

“Bored,” The girl said in a monotone voice as she gave the sorceress a dirty look. “How long do I have to keep at it?”

Iskra motioned towards the goblin with an open hand as she turned away from the approaching woman. Not at all happy with the responsibilities that had befallen onto her.

She had done her best to protest the apparent order from the sorceress, but the elven woman had a knack when it came to swaying others with words. Something that the young girl sorely lacked in her own social repertoire.

Whereas her older brothers and sisters were soft mannered and silver tongued, Iskra was far more blunt and cruel in her mannerisms.

This had been a thorn in her mother’s side when it came time to bring the growing girl to social events or introduce her to visiting family members and allies. Her father had been fine with how the girl spoke at first, thinking that she would eventually grow out of it. That all changed when she had caused offense towards the daughter of a well-connected but minor noble during a winter gathering in the kingdoms royal capital. The Duke of Orul had reminded her time and time again of how much trouble he went through in order to repair the damage she had apparently caused.

“I can’t say for certain. It’s always different for everyone.” Velicion knelt down behind the girl and poked the young girls back as she began to chant a series of magic imbued words.

A shiver ran throughout the entirety of the young girl’s body. The sorceress was beginning to cast a series of spells that would help prevent any disease from spreading to the human. Velicion had made this a habit throughout the past two days, and at first the young girl had found it strange that the elven woman was only casting the spells upon her body and once asked why the sorceress refused to do it for the others.

The answer she had been given? Argonok was, in essence, a walking statue and elves had such strong constitutions that it was rare for them to get sick.

“Are you sure that I need these spells?” Another shiver wracked her body as she felt the sorceress’s finger form and shape strange symbols upon her back. “It doesn’t look sick.”

It was strange having magic placed upon her person. A feeling that she couldn’t quite describe but at the same moment felt like she could write an entire play about the euphoric nature of it all. There was only one word that came to her mind: Immemorial

“More than positive,” Velicion said as she continued to run her fingers along the girl’s spine. “One can never be too careful after all.”

“And you’re sure that this…thing will be willing to work with us? We don’t have to do any weird things, do we?”

“We do not,” The sorceress managed to say between a delightful sounding laugh as she gave the girls shoulder a playful tap. “Goblins are the sort of creatures that respect strength and follow those that are stronger than them. Once it’s made aware of what happened then everything will fall into place.”

“And that requires you to talk with it, right? You’re not going to say anything weird?” The girl sounded unsure as she questioned Velicions intentions.

Foreign languages were something that the sorceress had a knack for picking up, and she could apparently speak the language that goblins and orcs shared between the two cousin races. Iskra had asked her how she was able to learn the language, but the sorceress defaulted to it being simply due to the fact that she had an opportunity to do so and took it.

“All you need to do is to trust me,” The elven woman mimicked a polite curtsey before bowing towards the young girl. “Goblins are perhaps some of the easiest creatures to work with.”

His eyes felt heavy and his mind was clouded, but Dasher slowly realized that reality was rumbling towards him. The goblin let out a dissatisfied gasp as his fingers twitched against the soft patch of grass that he had found himself on top of. Fate was being far crueler to him than he would’ve liked. He would have much preferred to have his death be miserable and embarrassing than to continue living any further.

His eyes fluttered but failed to remain open as his ears twitched upon the recognition of voices filling the air around him. The words were unfamiliar to him as he recognized that the language they spoke wasn’t the familiar dialect of either High or Low Orcish.

For the second time, he attempted to open his eyes but they refused to move. A grunt escaped from deep within his gut as the goblin rolled over onto his side. The feeling of supple flesh gently brushed across his cheek as a hand planted itself over his shoulders. The movement was so sudden that it toppled him over, forcing him to fall onto his backside.

It was thanks to this that Dasher found the energy to open his eyes.

The goblin blinked rapidly as he stared directly towards a tall, shadowy figure. The mysterious being blocked the sun’s rays from his sight as it slowly rose from its position while it loudly called out in its alien language. More voices filled the air as Dasher coughed and spat out balls of slimy slobber.

The first thing that came to his mind was how tall the being felt to his addled brain. Who or what could his mysterious benefactor be he wondered as the shadowy figure pointed down at his miserable form.

“Can ya hear me?” Came another voice, this one was much calmer than the one he began to associate with the shadowy figure. “You awake?”

Unsure of what to say or do Dasher nodded his head, dragging his face across the dirt as he uttered a single word. “Yup.”

“Good,” The voice said as a second figure came into view.

This time he could see far more clearly than before. His vision had slowly returned to him as his eyes had started to get used to the suns brightly lit rays.

Within an instant, he recognized the telltale signs of one of his peoples most feared enemies — the sharply pointed ears of an elf.

His mind screamed at him to jump up and run away as fast as he could, but his body had other plans. Dasher’s arms refused to move from their position, and his legs could only twitch and kick the air in fright. The goblin let out a remorseful sigh.

Upon realizing that his body had betrayed him, he resigned himself to die at the hands of an elf. Something that he thought of as impossible just a few days before.

“Don’t be scared,” The elf said as they reached out and carefully pulled the goblin onto his feet. “We ain’t here to kill ya.”

Confused, frightened, and utterly exhausted Dasher could do nothing, save for swaying in the elfs grasp as the goblin shook his head violently in an attempt to clear away the lingering paralysis.

“Wha-“ Dasher found the courage to speak as he straightened his head and looked up towards the elf. He was shocked to find himself face to face with that of an elven woman, another thing he thought as being doubly impossible in his lifetime.

It had been countless generations since his people had last seen the likes of an elf; it did not matter if it was male or female, and they had long been resorted to telling tales of absolute terror about their tall enemies. Of how they would move swiftly through the ranks of orcs, goblins and trolls alike and dance upon their sliced up corpses while singing grandiose songs of every creature they killed.

He didn’t like the idea of someone singing about his death. It was far too fancy of a way to go about slaughtering one’s enemy and he much preferred it to be a quick and bloody end.

“ ‘Ave ya come to kill me?” The words escaped his lips before his mind knew that he was speaking them.

For her answer, the female elf let out a sing-song laugh. A smile of utter enjoyment appeared across her lips as she shook her head.

“We got ya for something bigger than a good brawl.” The elf turned to her side and spoke in the strange, alien tongue that he heard upon first waking up.

The first voice gave a short reply which caused the female elf to smile once again as she nodded her head. It was clear to Dasher that the elf was taking orders from someone. His head became dizzy as he tried to think of what could command a race as scary as the elves.

“First, let me introduce myself.” Came the elfs voice once again as the woman twisted her body to stand behind the goblin, as she did so the woman moved the confused creature to the forefront. In plain sight for everyone to see. “My name is Velicion…” The elven woman paused as if she were at a loss for words. “Magic Chucka of Tall Lady.”

“Who?” The goblin's eyes stared down at his feet, too cowardly to meet the gaze of the magic throwers comrades.

“Tall Lady, She saw ya in yer time of need.” The woman’s hand cupped underneath Dasher's chin and forced him to look up. His gaze locked onto that of a tall woman that appeared to be earless. She shared the same silhouette of the shadowy being that he first laid eyes upon.

“Tall Lady saw many potential out of ya,” The elf continued to speak as Dasher looked away from the being called ‘Tall Lady.’ She had a nasty look in her eyes as she stared daggers into his wretched body. “Potential that could be of use to her. And to ya as well.”

There was no way that what the elf was saying was true. He tried to convince himself that it was all utter nonsense. This was all a game that the elf was playing before she slit his throat and tossed his body into the dirt before she danced upon his decaying corpse just like the tales he had been told.

Tried was the keyword.

Out on the edges of his sight, he caught a glimpse of leather boots. Boots that were of a make that he saw as rich in design and material. Not a speck of dust appeared on their well-polished forms. A gasp was stuck in his throat as he laid eyes upon even more elves. Their pitch black eyes appeared to see right past his him. As if they were looking at something that couldn’t be seen to the normal goblin eye. He caught the flash of silver in one of them as he turned away, too scared to let their piercing gaze shave away the essence of the pathetic soul he knew he possessed.

They were far scarier to look at than the one that named herself as Velicion, Magic Chucka of Tall Lady.

Maybe the woman was telling the truth after all, but the goblin was still unconvinced of her words.

This was all a game that they were pla-

His knees buckled in terror as he came face to face with a suit of terrifying armor. Its blue and red checkered helm stared Dasher down as the walking statue moved to the one called Tall Lady. The armor was nearly pitch black, but his eyes caught the glimmer of red as the sunlight reflected off of its shiny surface. To him, it looked far more like blood than some trick created to confuse those that stared upon its form. Shadowy, smoke filled tendrils rose from various portions of the beings metallic hide. Sulfur and molten metal overwhelmed his sense of smell. This metallic being was far scarier than the likes of any elf.

The Tall Lady knelt down and brought an ear close to the armors featureless helm. She looked away in annoyance as it spoke, clearly unsatisfied at having to hear the guttural tone of its words as its voice echoed from somewhere far away.

Dasher swore under his breath that he heard the faintest whispering of crackling flames.

Was it a demon?

“What kind of potential?” Frightened, the goblin looked towards the elven woman as he began to realize the reality of his situation. “Is Tall Lady a big scary fire person?”

Velicion held back a smile as she let out a poisonous laugh. “Nah, Tall Lady is something a little nicer than that.” The elf pointed upwards, wanting the goblin to look at the sky.

To which Dasher obliged and watched as something bright streaked across the sky. He was awestruck at its magnificence. Was that where the Tall Lady came from, he mouthed wordlessly while turning his attention back towards his apparent savior.

The goblin held up his right hand as he became blinded by a light he never noticed before. Warm, golden rays of sunshine appeared from somewhere behind Tall Lady.

At last, he understood what the elf had tried to convey.

No ordinary being could command the presence of a single elf, let alone multiples of them. They had to be an elf themselves or someone who could wield immense and terrifying power. To goblins, elves were scary. Yet the being that now stood before him, this Tall Lady that appeared to glow with the light of the sun, had also commanded the power of a metallic fire demon.

What else could they be, if not a god in their own right?

Dasher lost what little strength he had regained.

The goblin reached out and caught his falling body at just the right moment; his knees clattered together as he fell to the ground. Tears streamed down his face as slime covered mucus hung from his nose as he let out a cry of pure remorse towards his previous life. His emotions got the better of him as he realized that fate had been kinder to him than he initially thought.

With the Tall Lady’s blessing, he would do what he could and serve the diving being and live his newfound sense of purpose to the fullest.