Gromar, you must know, was by descent a Forest-Goblin; a subgrouping of Goblins distinguished by their fair complexion, innate spiritual relationship with the natural world, and an isolationist wariness of outsiders. That is to say, Gromar was raised far from the prying eyes of obtrusive strangers and subsequently knew naught else but his parents, siblings, and tribal associates. Regarding his relationship to such people, it also ought to be considered that although meek in stature he exhibited exceptional compassion; even extending such courtesies unto those that occasionally teased and taunted him.

From infancy to boyhood, Gromar’s unawareness of the tumultuous outside world was most certainly idyllic. Indeed, by being insulated within the forests, he had developed a blissful ignorance best defined by the unburdened and rhythmic nature of his existence. Thus far unencumbered with the labors expected of those more advanced in age, every day he followed the same simple routine:

Mornings were devoted to herbalist studies under the tutelage of the respected elder Uct; an aged expert specializing in medicinal fungal formulas. Next, afternoons were largely preoccupied with martial training under Huk – a former sentry entrusted with training the next generation of warriors – and meditations under Snarla – the spiritual leader of the tribe. Notably, although conforming to his duties obediently and without complaint, Gromar was adept only at his studies under Snarla; with his learning under Uct being substandard, and those under Huk being particularly woeful. Indeed, far removed from the martial prowess of his peers, he had instead developed a unique interest in spiritual wisdom. Although not yet able to investigate the ancient tomes under the personal care of Snarla, he nonetheless devoted much time to meditation. All things considered; life was simple.

Yet this tranquil and organized manner of existence ultimately proved to be transient and would come to an end in the latter period of Gromar’s adolescence.

In interjecting, it ought to be understood that outside the forest wherein Gromar and his tribe resided there existed the ever-expanding Empire of Pharo. This empire, driven by a warped ideology purporting the inexorable right for man to extend their domain, had long existed as an all-encompassing and all-powerful regional hegemon. Entrenched in a prejudice doctrine propagating Human supremacy, the Pharosians thrived on the perpetual subjugation and exploitation of the Goblin peoples.

It is with this context that, upon discovering the isolated Goblins inhabiting the forest, the Pharosians did not extend the courtesy of diplomacy. Rather, their first meeting with the tribe would also come to be their last, for they proceeded to devastate and raze the settlement during a particularly ferocious attack.  

It was on an average afternoon on an undeterminable date when the unanticipated ambush occurred. Detrimentally, the Goblin sentinels had realized the presence of foreign aggressors to late, with their presence becoming apparent only after they had already leapt from the foliage and begun their attack. Their attire, consisting of padded tunics draped with chainmail, and weaponry ranging anywhere from sturdy polearms tipped with lengthy blades to long steel swords, overwhelmed the small Forest-Goblin’s: who were conversely armed with fur-skinned clothing and rudimentary wooden spears. Although opposition was appropriately rendered futile, they nonetheless fought on.

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“Student’s… rally on me!” decreed Huk, his voice thundering in a desperate attempt to establish some semblance of organization. His students, who only moments prior had been conducting their training, swiftly headed the command of their tutor and rallied to his side.

Conversely, Gromar had been in his spiritual studies when the attack begun. Caught in the midst of meditation, he was isolated within a small wooden hut when the sudden stampede descended upon the tribe. And it was there he remained – frozen with fear – as the attack progressed.

“Come on! get up and fight you coward!’ boomed a voice. Tracing the echoes, Gromar found the words to be coming from a frenzied Goblin sentinel standing at the entrance of his hideout. Bearing a spear, the armed sentinel was already coated in crimson blood. His eyes stared menacingly at the petrified Gromar, who had by now retreated further into fear and sought cover deeper within the walls of the hut. Exacerbating his fear, he then listened as the voice commanding his presence on the battlefield turned to a shriek; the Goblin behind the commands being abruptly cutdown by a fatal arrow.

Within the hour, it was apparent that the battle had divulged into a massacre. Huk and his students, now rendered insentient corpses, littered the barren earth. Snarla, who had fought gallantly with religious fervor, lay martyred; her lifeless eyes glancing towards the heavens. Uct, who’s age rendered him defenseless, had met perhaps the most tragic fate, for his corpse had been brutalized beyond recognition; his lifeless remains existing as a testament to the Human’s savage hatred of Goblin-folk. With only stragglers remaining, the Pharosian soldiers proceeded to light torches, before then setting the small huts ablaze with little consideration to the implications such an action would have on the broader forest.

Gromar had resigned to his imminent fate. He could hear the screams and pleas of others who had become entrapped within their burning houses. As his own hut likewise succumbed to the flames, the cowering Gromar could only curl into a ball and close his eyes. In what he believed to be the waning moments of his existence, the young Goblin endeavored fruitlessly to make sense of the unfolding events.

What were these tall beings that had descended so savagely upon our peaceful abode?

They look just like us, albeit taller… so why did they attack with such hatred?

More importantly, he lamented over the ensured fate of his loved ones.

My family… my friends…

With these final thoughts lingering on his mind, the hut wherein he was hiding began to collapse. Fiery tendrils were racing up the walls, and toxic smoke had begun to spread throughout the encapsulated structure. Finally, the burning walls then succumbed to the relentless assault.

Here I die… Gromar the Coward… who neither tried to fight nor save himself…