250 Words: Little goblin before the battle

The chants and drums of both sides tied a knot in the little goblin’s stomach and he began to feel sick.  The sound reverberated back and forth filling and scaring the minds of all those too nervous to take part, the out of sync drums only adding to the sense of unease.

The scene of the opposition was what scared the little goblin most, though.  A ghastly array of creatures from the underearth all lined up, full of fire and bile; the sort of which he could only imagine producing.  He was ultimately a good natured creature who rarely lost his temper and was sure he would not be able to bring out the sort of bloodlust required to fight hand to hand.  Hence he had been so pleased to switch places and wind up some distance away with his bows and arrows.

Before long, however, the little goblin’s hands started to shake and he began to wonder how he would fire the arrows waiting in their quiver.  Alone with his thoughts he started to wish for the start of proceedings to give him something else to concentrate on.  The wait had gotten too much by far- he needed the whistle to still his hands, his bow and arrow to occupy them, and his eyes to stop taking in the whole scene and see only a point in the distance within the army opposite.

Finally it did and the little goblin reached for and loosed his first arrow in anger.