As his footsteps thump the rough stone with dominance, the goblin once thinking himself invincible, soon recognized his farce. Yes, he had stolen the mighty stick, truly a weapon of virtue in and of itself. With that in mind, goblin's arent do daft as to be unable to recognize size. Whose shinnie heap was biggest, whose rock hoard was the most numerous, etc, etc. For all intents and purposes, Mr.Goblin was truly massive, standing (Im using meters sorry for my USA friends but a meter is about 3.3 feet. There is 100 centimeters in a meter.) just shy of meter. With his hulking frame(by god he isnt unique dear viewers, I am unable to create unique MC's. He is simply a adult goblin as compared to the younglings.) and his intimidating rock, he stood proud. As he neared as close as a single goblinslength away(Goblins dont know what meters are. They measure goblinlengths,sticklengths,rocklengths, and mushroomlengths) the brave stick wielder tensed. With his annoyingly small body, immense power radiated from within. He was ready to fight for his spoils. Which clan could raise such an ingrate? Thr answer? No clan did. All clans in someway had a leader except for a odd red goblin group, that was really interested in sharing. These leaders, or just by unanimous decision, had decided that the big green muddafucka with a big rock was not to interrupted in any way. A untrained eye would say fear drove them. A observer with skill would however, notice a slight glint in the eyes of all those who laid their gaze upon Mr.Goblin. Those who didnt share their oddly subservant views became the undecideds. If you ask why they didnt have faction, the answer is simple. Their was no more space in the cave. All clans currently resided within their corners, respecting their border truces, exchanging rock and shroom, for personal and training. In this way, an economy had been formed. A interruption would not be welcome. An intruder was meant with swift smacks and kicks. This is the way of the gonlins of this small creek cave.
The gpblin now less than 60 centimeters from Mr.Goblin let out a hiss. This was not his greatesr decision, but it would most likely be his last.
WAT? Awaking with a snap to see a ugly green creature with a stick, Mr.Goblin reacted on instinct. He threw out his right hand towards the goblin in a flash. Normally the chances of survival would be thirty percent with a empty fist, but currently Mr.Goblin had a massive rock in clutches. This would be messy.
SPLAT!
The goblins skull concaved in on itself. The rock quickly smashed through the entirety of a now mushy brain, and pushed forwards with unending momentum. The swing carried the rock straight the goblins head, messily tearing the poor thing's neck off. All goblins were silent. Then.....cheers.
The goblins wailed in fervor as their greatest hero, NO THEIR DIVINE IDOL! Had slain the vile heretic! Now their greatest and most honorable cheiftan had saved the cave from the mercy of the stick.