This is the original Prill spell scarred goblin cleric and Kinislan spellscarred goblin warlord.

The witch makes her way through the hallways, littered with goblin dead, toward
the sounds of battle. As she turns the corner, the hallway opens into a room.
The source of the battle sounds are just ahead. She stops to take cover amongst
the dead, her tattered clothes blending her in well.

The goblin warlord flies across her field of view, landing battered and broken,
blood pouring from a large gaping wound in his chest. She hears a booming laugh
of victory fade off down the western hallway.

His attacker gone, she rushes to the warlord's side. The witch pulls an old,
but ornate wooden box from her pack. She opens it to pull her trinket from it.
A collection of bones, rings, feathers, and various other trinkets tied
together by a throng of leather. She puts it on, and places her hands on the
gaping wound in the warlords chest. As she chants a blue flame bursts from the
trinkets to spread down her arms and into the wound. It dances about the wound
knitting it back together.

The warlord's beady eyes open. She stifles his screams as a blue flame begins
to burst forth from his eyes. The flame eventually dies down, but the warlord
has long since passed out. When he wakes the pain is gone. She holds him in
her arms fidgeting with her trinket, chanting. He looks up to her, a little
flicker of flame remains dancing behind his eyes.

The warlord arrived at his summons. As he walked down the hallway the goblin
chieftain beckoned him in the room with a wave. "Da witch gots destinee old
frind. She gots destinee." the cheiftain said as he passed into the room. Pelts
of slain rats, large and small, litter the room almost as a show of wealth and
opulence.

Flopping down on one the warlord looked up at his chieftain. "She gots
destinee, dat fo shur. She gots da mark. She give me da mark tuu. Many many
moons ago. Da clan rebilt. She gots destinee." the warlord said. The Chieftain
stares at his warlord as he flops down on a different pelt. Nothing is said as
the two goblins face each other in silence.

The chieftain reaches into his pouch to pull out a shiny ring. "Meh oaffed yuu
poppa when hims save meh life dat meh gives yuu dis one day. Hims say meh knows
when tuu gives it tuu yuu. Hims was guud frind likes yuu. Yuu takes it, meh
nots know whats it fo. Yuu takes it and go save da witch from hersef. Yuu gots
destinee wif hers. Now go. Big Chief command" The cheiftain says as he
dismisses his warlord with a wave. Getting up, the ring in his hand, he looks
back at the chieftain bewildered. He puts the ring on and walks out the door.

He stops at his room long enough to pack a backpack before heading off through
the abandoned sections. Making his way through the rubble he arrives at the
witches hovel. There she sits, hunched over her old ornate box. Playing with
her trinket, like a rosary, as she prays. She looks up at him, a blue flame
dancing behind her eyes. She carefully places her trinket back in the box and
stuffs it into her already packed bag. Without a word, she follows the her
warlord out the door and toward her 'destinee'.