Part two of Gorin’s story…
A tale from the last days of magic before man almost ended everything natural
Nagwort snarled, baring his yellow, razor sharp, pointed teeth. Brindle had just stolen his one and only treasure, Ilim’s crystal. Nagwort had won it, or rather stolen it, from the dead body of Ilim during the last great battle between the goblins and the dwarfs of the valley. Ilim had been the fiercest of all the goblin army that day. Nagwort had stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the thick of battle. Brindle sat in the corner of the cave carefully turning over the crystal in his bony hands, almost purring with delight, mesmerized by its exquisite beauty. Seething with anger and hate, Nagwort crept up behind him and knocked Brindle to the floor with one blow from his war club.
“Give it back!”
“Give it me now!”
Nagwort smashed Brindle over…
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