The moon was shining heavily on my skin as I rode onwards on the caravan. I was trying to stay awake, to keep a lookout, but I had not slept in three days. I finally admitted defeat, and quickly descended into a fitful sleep.
When I woke up, all hell had broken loose. The goblin troll-masters had devastated what was left of the forest, smashing their way to our now-puny looking caravan. I urged the horses onward, but they could only sprint for a few seconds before collapsing upon themselves. Cursing the gods, I jumped out and grabbed my steel warhammer, crafted by the legendary smiths of Ra’goth themselves, and blessed in the mountains of the lost. Time seemed to slow to a stop as I jumped out towards the nearest troll-master. The look on his eyes… I’ll never forget. The look of haunting despair, it was the same look on my father’s face when he was killed by the goblins. Was it possible that goblins did feel emotions as well, that they were dragged into war, kicking and screaming, by the corrupt nobility bastards?
I had no time to ponder, though. The goblin’s face was smashed in, and I turned around to face two more, snarling, blood dripping down their fangs. As one swung it’s black iron mace, I ducked and took it’s legs out from under it with a swift strike from my hammer. Howling in agony, it collapsed to the ground, and I was left facing the last one. It held it’s cruel whip in it’s hand, taunting me with it’s eyes. I knew better then to fall for that though. I would wait until it struck first, then II would crush it’s pitiful brains.
We circled around eachother, waiting for just one tiny fault in the other’s stance, just one opportunity was all that was needed. It seemed like hours we stood there, until the goblin let out a triumphant smile and swung it’s black whip around my legs. I screamed and fell down, closing my eyes and waiting for the inevitable finish. I heard a whirr however, and a gurgle. Looking up, I saw the goblin clutching it’s throat, a massive hole where the adam’s apple used to be. I got up, and turned around to see the finest in dwarven engineering, the demoncrusher XII robotic suit. It stiffened, then a small figure hopped out.
“Whoever you are, I owe my life to you. You have my deepest thanks.” I said, then bowed. I heard chuckling, then looked up, only to find my great-grandfather Urist looking at me, amused. Then he sucked my cock and licked my balls.