“Many, many years passed and Ghob was forgotten and the land was peaceful. Until one day, a group of strange buggers came up from the deepest tunnels of the gnome city. They were grey and bent and misshapen and spoke queerly. They claimed to be Ghob’s kin, but to everyone it sounded as if they said goblin. Somehow they had survived and even thrived as there were many and more than what had followed the fallen king so many years before. But more terrible than their numbers was that they wielded Fire. How the goblins could have taken it from the dragons is not known and the elves were deeply disturbed, but they allowed the goblins to live in Airlann, which was bloody stupid and they paid for their mistake.

“The goblins helped some evil humans take over the isle and called them their Kings. A terrible war was fought over many years, and eventually the Goblin Kings were all defeated. The last was called the Gaunt Prince, and he was slain by the gnome king of that time, a powerful warrior named Goban Blackmud. A damn fine king! After the war, Goban took his hammer and struck off for the center of the world, claiming he would not return until Fire was taken away from the goblins, and, if they still lived, placed back under the care of the dragons. He has not been seen again to this very day, but do not give up on him, Blink. Some of us never have.

“Now Goban had to leave his crown to someone before he left, so he put it in the hands of his brother, an empty headed lack wit named Hob. Hob got to talking with the newly restored king of the elves and thought that it would be a right grand idea to offer an invite to any goblin who wanted it, to come back and live with the gnomes, so as to get reunited with their long lost cousins. Nevermind that the goblins were responsible for hundreds of years of oppression and bloodshed and were nothing but an unwashed rabble of bandy-legged, sister-shagging, gap-toothed, flat-headed, Fire-loving murderers!”