I knew I shouldn’t have gotten mixed up with goblins.

This wizard guy, see, came to my cubicle, led me outside, and asked if I wanted to become a Protector.

“Protector? You’ve got to be kidding. That’s not a real job, and furthermore, you’re a moron.”
He seemed unfazed. “Sir, you were hand-picked! You will have powers none of your coworkers will ever have! Of course, you cannot call upon them unless the goblins attack. See, they’re building fortresses in the sewers-”
“The sewers? How very typical. I suppose they’re also taking over the government?”
“You do not understand! I- here, perhaps this will change your mind,” he said. “Look at that squirrel.”

The squirrel stopped and stared at the wizard. The wizard mumbled something, and the squirrel dropped dead, then bled gold out of its ears.

I was stunned. Shocked. He must not be lying.

“So, then, Mr. Travest…” the wizard said. “Do you wish to become a Protector?”

I nodded my head, he blessed me, and I went about my normal life.

Until a goblin came…