“This makes no sense at all.”
It really made no sense at all.
In this random Goblin Den out of the thousands across Tamriel… they had to come across the strangest scene of all time. Of the usual Archers, Menders, and Sword Swingers, everything was fine. Goblins wore armor and cloth, and wielded appropriate weapons. However, it seemed that this particular Goblin Den had evolved its Destruction class mages in a certain, rather strange way.
The Goblins were striped down to nothing and wielded no weapons but their own fists.
But yet, somehow, they had mastered three elemental magic attacks.
A Clap of their hands- and a ring of Ice would surround them.
A swing of their fists, and a fireball would appear from thin air to strike their enemy down.
A primeval grunt as they clenched a hand- then with a release, Lightning launched through the air.
The goblins used the word they normally did for “Pyromancer” when calling for these strange mages, and yet they could scarcely be called that given their mastery of the three elements.
It was this strange discrepancy that had caught them off guard.
Calum had assumed they were close range fighters- and so had been startled by the lighting bolts racing across the room.
Argo was confused by their swinging fists- and so had her hair singed by a close encounter fire ball.
Silica had thought their lack of armor would prove to be their undoing- and so had slipped on the suddenly forming ice beneath her feet.
And so upon clearing that Goblin den and exiting to the surface world once more, they all had agreed: “That made no sense at all.”