The Elven warrior sat on a log by the fire, the flames licking the night sky. He knew the Goblins were waiting at the edge of the wood. The small amount of elven soldiers he commanded was easily out-numbered by the massive Goblin army.
The tension in the Elven camp was high. A break of a branch set off a number of swords bieng unseathed. The warriors senses were alert. He should be resting for the coming battle, but sleep failed to fall upon him.
He walked to a nearby tree, leaned up against it and looked up at the night sky. He heard something rustling in the bushes. I hope that isnt one of those damn Goblins. Walking closer, he heard the sound of metal. He unseathed his sword and croutched, sneaking toward the mysterious rustle. Goblin menace! reveal yourselves or have your blood on my blade!
A small Goblin youngling fell to the ground, apparently starving. It had killed a rabbit, trying to find some food. What in blazes are you doing?
The goblin child replied The army, they took my father away. They made him fight. Now my mommie and i are poor. I search for food in the forest.
The warrior gave the youngling some food and gold. Go back to your home, tell your mother to hide away, for there is a war.
After the child left, the warrior looked into the forest. He stared at every gnarled tree trunk, at every leaf looking enviously green. A wistling seemed to catch his ear. It wasnt a loud wistle, but a faint one. The sound was like something moving at dangerously high speeds.
He ducked suddenly, hearing the thump of an arrow onto the tree. MAKE YOURSELVES READY ELVES! THE WAR IS UPON US!