Garrrrggg!!! The goblins roared as they crashed into the elvish city gates of Penca. Hundreds of three foot tall, goblins smashed into the large wooden doors over and over with their shields. The goblins in the back pushing up against the goblins in the front breaking ribs of ones that were caught in the middle. A few goblins pass out from lack of oxygen. The city gates creaked louder than the war cries of the goblins. elves atop the city gates shot arrows down at the goblins, there was no need to aim. If they shot an arrow at the horde of goblins, it was sure to hit. Bastian was among the elves shooting two sometimes three arrows at a time. He would load his bow and shoot in a fluid motion like a wagon wheel turning. The goblins piled so high they could almost reach the top of the gate.

The gates were not going to hold much longer. goblins were strong for their size and brute. The creaking grew louder and louder before a loud POP!. The gates flew open.

Goblins came rushing into the city screaming obscenities at the elves. They torched anything that could burn and slashed at anything living that they came across. Goats bled out on the ground, dogs were thrown into fires, and cabins were set ablaze with elvish people still inside.

Goblins were normally pale green but when they were filled with anger, their skin would turn dark red. Their hatred for the elves was unprecedented, a mere mention of anything having to do with elves around a goblin was enough to turn them. One of the goblins grabbed a teenage elvish boy by the shirt.

“Let me go you red twat!” The child screamed.

“You’re not going anywhere” the goblin responded looking up at the child.

Even elvish children towered over goblins by at least two feet. Three other goblins grabbed ahold of the boy pulling at his arms in separate directions.

The boy screamed “Help me! My arm! It’s going to break!”

The boy’s father came running from behind a cabin and elbowed one of the Goblins and kicked the other one. Pulling the boy to the side he told him “Run! get to the citadel!”

The boy hesitated for a moment before running North up the stone mello steps that ran for half a league toward the Citadel. Five Goblins surrounded the elvish man, with shields and swords the goblins paced. One looked at the others, smiled before dropping his weapons.

“Let’s show this tree fucker what we do with his kind.”

The father elf turned to run towards the Citadel. One goblin jumped on his back biting him on the shoulder. The other four goblins grabbed a hold of both arms pulling as hard as they possibly could.

“Gaaaahhh!” The father screamed. He lifted his head up looking towards the Citadel hoping that his son was safe.

“Turn em around” A goblin spoke.

Still stretched as far as they could the goblins turned the elf to face another goblin. Abnormally large for his kind standing at least four feet high with thick arms and legs.

“Meet... The Ox” one goblin said whispering and laughing in the fathers ear.

The Ox took a few steps back before sprinting towards the elf.

The Ox lowered his shoulder and rammed into the elf’s chest ripping and taking the elf’s body with him. The Ox raised his arms in victory and let out a roar. The other goblins held the elf's severed arms in the air before rushing over to the bloody torso of the dead man and began beating the corpse with his own arms.

“Stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself HAHAHA!” the goblins laughed hysterically.

Bastian had stayed atop of the gate tower shooting arrows. One by one, goblins fell to the ground with arrows through their hearts or head. He was reaching to take another one out when suddenly TWAK!, his head rammed into one of the stone pillars that held the roofing over the tower.

Bastian drew blood from his nose, he turned around. A goblin held a small wooden shield up at Bastian with a short sword in the other hand. Bastian reached for an arrow but the goblin had already lunged at him. Bastian swayed to his right slapping the goblin’s arm out of the way. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and the goblin lunged at him again, he moved to the left this time and the sword nicked his arm. Still holding the arrow he jabbed it into the goblins left eye. The goblin made a loud shriek and reached for the arrow, the goblins arms trembling. Bastian reached up grabbing one of the beams on the ceiling, he lifted his self up and kicked the goblin in the face forcing the arrow through the eye and out through the back of the goblins head. The impact threw the goblin back and over the railing of the tower falling fifteen feet to the ground below. The eyeball laid only a few feet away from him.

Bastian was tired, bloody, and afraid, but there was no time to rest. He heard the sound of a goblin war-horn.

Looking out from where it came from he saw the source. Another horde of goblins was approaching fast. A hundred more at least, heavy armored with steel plates they had stolen from the dead of the common folk army. In addition, three bears approached. A few of the goblins were riding in saddle on top of them. Bastian reached for an arrow, his quiver was empty. He grabbed the wooden railing and jumped down from the tower landing on his feet with a roll. When he raised his head he saw the goblins screaming and running away green-faced as they made their way back out through the city gates.

Bastian heard the sounds of horses galloping. When he turned to find that, the Elvish Century Elves had arrived from the Citadel. They galloped through the goblins running them over and shooting arrows at them. Slicing at them with their swords was incredibly difficult from horseback, which they had learned long ago. The leader of the Century Elves was Gristle, the greatest fighter in all of Japrite. Long silver hair that came down to his elbows, and armor so shiny it could almost be used to blind his enemies.

“Run them down,” Gristle said, signaling his men. Twelve riders kicked their horses and took off after the retreating goblins. Arrows flew through the air sticking goblins as they cried in fear. Even the bears turned around retreating like scared puppies throwing their masters off their backs. One of the goblins foot was caught in the saddle and was being dragged through the field. The other two bears were trying to run away so quickly that they were taking out whatever goblins were in its path. Bastian stood there watching as the Century Elves did more in thirty seconds than the elvish guards did all year.

The twelve riders chasing the goblins away had returned.

“How many of ours were killed?” Gristle said in a sympathetic tone.

“Four sir” Another century men said stepping out through the gate.

“And a merchant... Human, from... Warren”

Very well, clean all this up” Gristle commanded as he turned his horse and rode back to the Citadel.