There was a faint noise, but it was difficult to distinguish. Almost like a grunt, but constant, rising and falling every so often. Zero turned back to the group, a little confused.

Zero could see only a little of the revealed chamber, large tapestries, worn and tattered, hung from the ceiling barely ten feet in front of him and to his left, obscuring any view. He peered around the door frame to the right and spotted a filthy bed. The noises he had heard through the door now became clear, laid upon the bed was a fat goblin, snoring away, oblivious to the opened portal.

As Khalin padded softly towards the sleeping goblin there was a splintering crack and a crunch beneath his feet. As the dwarf looked down he could see a number of small bones, perhaps the remnants of the goblin's last meal, tossed casually upon the stone floor. Little could the goblin have known that its foul manners may have saved its life! The cracks and splinters were enough to wake the goblin with a snort and a grunt. It looked up into two pairs of eyes standing above its bed, and froze for a moment.

With three assailants around it, the goblin thrashed around violently, trying to loosen the grip on it to escape. With its mouth free it began to shout. ‘Akka! Akka! Chana porka, bella, bella!’ it shouted madly. It then twisted around lithely, betraying its fat countenance, attempting to slip Zero's grip.

The fat goblin stopped writhing and thrashing against Zero's grip and a calm seemed to flow across it. It locked eyes with Khalin, a mixture of hatred and amusement in its eyes. ‘Yoo not hav guts to kill mee, dwarf!’ it spat in broken Common. ‘Takk best shot!’ A toothy smile spread across its lips as it waited for the blow.

As the warhammer swung down the goblin barely flinched, it eyes continuously on Khalin's with childish amusement. As the weapon touched the goblin its greaves shone brightly for a moment and there was an audible pop! The goblin had disappeared! Khalin's swing continued through fresh air where goblin skull should have been and he cleaved the wooden bed into two. When Tradden turned his head from the doors to see if he could make out what the splintering of wood was, he saw the fat goblin, laid on its back in the middle of the room, looking intently at him, as though Tradden were his next meal.

He shook his head clear and focused on the threat beyond Tradden's theatrics. Quickly he brought the words of power to his lips, his eyes rolled back and the air around him became charged. A crackling ball appeared amidst the goblins that exploded, arcing outwards.

The mage's eyes rolled back into normality, quickly surveying the effect. Two goblins had gone down — one of the smaller ones with a wicked looking knife, and the fat one, at long last. It still crackled with electricity, quite singed, with smoky tendrils still rising into the air from its green flesh. The smell of ozone and charred skin wafted across the chamber.