A cool breeze brushed across the goblin’s face as he entered the Forbidden Forest. His memory was faded. His memory of his home, his clan, his life—all had faded from his mind. Twisted blinding hatred was all that consumed him. He didn’t even know what he hated. He just hated.

The goblin had a powerful urge to burn. He must burn everything. It didn’t matter what it was as long as it burned. He had little energy left from traveling from the mountains, so his magic would be weaker than it normally was. He didn’t care. The goblin would use up every ounce of energy he had left just to cast fire again. He wanted to see something blow up and be aflame. He had to.

The goblin was well into the forest now and couldn’t hold off any longer. He raised his hand and let the magic flow from his body through his fingertips. A nearby tree exploded, several flaming branches falling to the ground. The goblin laughed a high-pitched crackle. Again he struck. Again and again he caught the trees of the forest on fire. He laughed some more.

The goblin ran through the trees, not paying attention to what he was destroying anymore. He kept on laughing as he did so. The pain was disappearing. His worries and troubles, whatever they were, for the goblin could not remember, went away. His hatred slowly disintegrated and was replaced with flame-engulfed pleasure. The fire soothed his uneasiness. After each initial blast, however, the pain came back and the blazing fire alone was not enough. He needed more explosions.

The goblin laughed and laughed some more as he pointed at the trees, which combusted at his will.  He felt a tug on his energy as he cast his spells. He did not care. All that mattered was the fire that he created on the green landscape. The goblin made all things green explode…except for one thing. One thing. Something green moved! The goblin cast again at it. It jumped away. Again he tried to make the thing catch fire. Again and again he tried. The goblin was dumbfounded. He never knew the green-growing-things could move. He looked at it closer to see two pointed ears and emerald green eyes staring back at him.


It was another beautiful day in the forest. The elf was lying on a branch on his favorite oak tree, just admiring the fresh air and warm sunlight. The birds were chirping and squirrels were chattering. The leaves of the trees rustled in the cool breeze. Everything was peaceful.

BOOM!

The eruption startled the elf. He jolted upright, his head snapping in the direction of the sound. Everything quickly changed. The sweet aroma of the air was now the stench of smoke. The smaller animals in the forest scurried away in the other direction. The elf could see smoke rising above the trees. Something was not right.

The elf jumped from his branch, slipping on his moccasins and equipping his bow and quiver that lay at the root of the tree. He ran in the direction of the disturbance, his feet barely touching the ground. The elf flew through the trees as if he were the wind itself. He must find the source of the explosion. He had to put a stop to it.

As he ran, the elf heard more explosions. After each combustion, he heard the cry of every tree that fell. He felt their pain as they suffered. Someone, or something, was hurting the forest. Something was destroying the home that he loved. He had to protect it.

The elf ran faster, jumping off of the ground this time and hopping through the trees. He neared the edge of the forest and began to see flames. Flames that killed the trees they engulfed. The elf reached a clearing created from the fire. The elf could not believe what he saw. A hump-backed creature with dark, wrinkled skin and a hooked nose was bringing this devastation to his home. The creature raised his long fingers and caught trees on fire right before the elf’s eyes. It was a goblin.

The goblin turned in the elf’s direction and raised his hand. The elf jumped quickly and the bush he had been standing in burst into flame. Again the elf jumped. Twice more the goblin tried to fry the elf to a crisp, but the elf was too quick for him. Now the goblin hesitated. He squinted and stared at the elf. The elf stared right back at him.


The goblin was engulfed with rage. He had a burning passion to scorch the greenling. The green-growing-things didn’t exist to the goblin anymore. Only the greenling.

The goblin raised his hand again. There was an explosion, for sure, but the greenling was not there. The goblin looked around for the greenling and found him standing behind him. The goblin pulled his knife out of his poorly-made belt and slashed at the greenling. Every time the goblin tried to pierce the greenling’s flesh with rusted steel, however, an arrow blocked the blade. The goblin was furious and lost what little control he had.


The goblin, giving up on combustion, pulled out a dagger and slashed with all its might. The elf quickly pulled an arrow from his quiver and blocked each strike. The knife was old and rusted. It left almost no mark on the arrowhead and barely cut the thin wood of the shaft at all.

The goblin howled with rage. He raised his arms and began to scream bloody murder. Several more trees caught fire…and so did the goblin! The goblin screamed and ran toward the elf. The elf gave the goblin no chance. He jumped to a nearby tree that hadn’t been blown up yet and strung his bow. He let his arrow fly and struck the goblin between the eyes.

The goblin howled and then went silent. He dropped the ground and burned.