Both Howard and Humar had failed to reckon with the skill, speed, and reach of the armored goblin, whose glaive lashed out at the two in turn as they advanced on or past him, seeking to trip them just as he had sought to trip Cowabunga. The grim set of the goblin's jaw as he howled challenges at them never wavered, nor did he even take his eyes off the tauren for more than a moment as he struck. The bastard has class levels! Perhaps some small consolation was that his actions were nigh-reflexive. He viewed Howard as no threat.

One of the two sorcerers choked horribly as Tarrant's magic insinuated itself into his veins, but the shaman who stood between the casters and the melee immediately turned, chanting supplication to whatever dark goblin god he worshipped. Positive energy flowed into the gurgling sorcerer to heal wounds. Tarrant had the advantage of skill and output, if he chose to force a confrontation... though this was divine energy.

In the meantime, the other sorcerer shrieked a few angry words that summoned a large sphere of flame almost directly atop Tarrant, which then rolled directly at him.