The pink gladiolus flower was crushed under the foot of the goblin scout as the raiders marched through the lightly wooded lands north west of the elven city. Mukbulge licked his lips. Leaning toward his nearest mate, he whispered, "What do ya think the boss'll give me if I show 'er a pile of elf skins?"

"She loves makin' elf-skin shields - but you kill any of my prisoners, I'll crack your skull with my spear," came the reply. Mukbulge chortled until he almost choked. He snorted and spat a huge glob of slime. "But those are the easiest to kill." The upraised fist of Turgle, the raid leader, brought the goblins to a halt. They gazed down at figures below, fingering their weapons: spears, crude swords and axes. "Death to elves!" roared Turgle. Mukbulge screamed his assent and the raiders rushed from the cover of the trees.

******

The sun shone in the blue vault of the sky amid large puffy clouds, beneath which a golden haired elf and his adolescent companion sat on a moss-covered stone just outside Leth Deriel. "It's about controlling distance and training your body to react the right way even when you're under stress," Donntae said to Jerin. "You're getting faster," he added, and Jerin grinned. "I beat Elrasi for the first time in sparring. She was furious."

"I'll bet," laughed Donntae. Elrasi, the red haired firebrand was Jerin's greatest rival. Their relationship was complicated, but Donntae felt strongly that their competition enriched their learning. Donntae handed the water jug to Jerin and he took a long sip. Elven children along with a human and GorTog companion, played in the stream the flowed from the Segoltha nearby. The afternoon breeze passed through Jerin's black hair, before he handed the jug back to his mentor. "Elrasi will be at the wedding," said the younger elf. "Then you should practice your dancing," replied Donntae, suppressing a grin.

"Gooh dah!!" came the goblin's roar. A hideous garbled reply erupted from the nearby woods. Donntae sprang to his feet. "Get the others back to the city."

"But," replied Jerin. "Now." Donntae swung his baldric over his shoulder and began chanting catechisms. The entirety of his attention was on the raiding party that now raced across the grassy field towards the children and the city beyond. Jerin sprinted towards the other children who stood frozen in fear. "Get to the city!" the youthful elf shrieked. A flint-tipped goblin arrow whizzed past him, and he stole a glance over his shoulder, eyes wide with fear.

Donntae drew a spear from his baldric and launched it at the foremost goblin. The steel spearhead shattered its knee, and the goblin fell to the ground, snapping its bow. Several of the other raiders moved to surround Donntae. "Rutilor guide my hand," he whispered. A goblin axe flew towards the elf's head, but Donntae ducked and swept his sword from his baldric, cleaving into the goblin's abdomen.

Mukbulge watched as the faster goblins engaged the golden-haired elf. He sneered, but his attention went to the youths only now starting to run from the stream. He squealed with glee. Their skins would be smaller but more supple. Mukbulge's eyes widened in surprise and confusion as Jerin turned to face him. The young elf held up his wooden training sword. Mukbulge laughed as he closed the distance. Raising his spear, the goblin sprinted toward Jerin, aiming for the neck so as not to spoil the skin.

A loud THUD could be heard as the heel of Donntae's boot smacked the earth. Mukbulge, whose attention had been only for Jerin and other younglings, suddenly fell to the ground. Wisps of black smoke rose into the air, and the goblin became aware of the not unfamiliar smell of roasted flesh. Not releasing his spear from his grasp, he tried to stand, eager to collect the skins before the others made their claim. Mukbulge became aware of a horrid burning sensation. His golden, black-slitted eyes fell to his legs, but found in their place ash up to the thigh. The goblin froze, then turned to look behind him. A wave of blue-white lava erupted from the vicinity of the golden-haired elf, behind whom were the charred remnants of the raiding party. Mukbulge did not hear the hiss of lava as his head disintegrated.

"What was that!?" shouted Jerin towards Donntae, his voice hoarse with relief as smoke rose from the corpse of the goblin. "The Fire of Ushnish spell," replied the cleric. "Move quickly, all of you. Get inside the city. I'll call for help." Donntae touched his gweth and communicated a message.

"But," stammered Jerin. "I thought you couldn't cast the Fire of Ushnish. You said it's beyond the Gate of Souls and - "

"I had help," replied Donntae. His eyes scanned the tree line. More goblins were visible, not yet ready to abandon their raid. With a firm but gentle hand, he urged Jerin onward, and the group ran toward the gates of Leth Deriel. "Melindrha protected me -"

"The Olvi Empath?" asked Jerin between deep breaths as she struggled to keep up with the cleric's pace. He looked surprised. "Yes," replied Donntae, flashing a grin. "You know her?"

"Of course," replied the younger elf. "She smokes and eats cupcakes," he said as the group passed through the gates. Relief fell over the features of Donntae. "Adventurers are coming to protect the city," he said. Jerin closed his eyes and leaned against a tree near the main road, catching his breath, while Donntae spoke with the guards. "Did Melindrha really take you past the Gate of Souls?" he asked when the cleric returned to his side. "She doesn't seem... warlike."

Donntae laughed. "She did." The cleric's mirth fell away, and blue-green eyes hung unwaveringly on his pupil. "She is extremely powerful. When you see her, show her all due respect."

The arrival of Elrasi stole Jerin's attention. "Elrasi!" he shouted joyfully. "Donntae just roasted a bunch of goblins with Fire of Ushnish!"

"I want to see!"

"How 'bout I show you the 'Bless' spell instead?" replied the cleric to fiery-haired aspiring swordmaster.

"No, Donntae! Bless is boring!"

Donntae sighed.