The gnomes held spears to compensate for their lesser reach and smaller stature, while the goblins carried long, black, serrated iron swords. Despite their air of malevolence, when they reached the foot of the knoll and were greeted by Belloc and the light of the Vhurd-aq, they seemed to diminish in its brilliance. There was some commotion as they parted to let one of their members pass through their ranks. It was a very large goblin carrying a short iron stave which ended in a black claw clutching a pale blue stone.
Dorain's breath hissed between her teeth.
"A Warlock!"
"Belloc!" hissed the Warlock.
Belloc cocked an eyebrow. "You must know that this parley is pointless. If you wish to be spared, you had best reconsider facing my wrath."
"Empty words!" shouted the Warlock, sure of its abilities. "I am powerful, and we are many. You are in no position to dictate to me, wizard!" He filled the word with brazen contempt. "But we can settle this matter reasonably. Look about you. If we fight, many will die, needlessly. All we ask," it said, putting all the power of coercion in its voice into its words, "all we ask, is for such a little thing."