It was more like a mushroom, the cap for a head, like a hat almost. Its arms were short and pale, its feet hardly more than stem. Sir Carter looked angry to see it.

“Fungus monster,” he grumbled. He drew his sword and made ready to strike at the creature.

“Is it weak against fire?” Cerys asked. “Do you want me to cast a spell?”

“Don’t use fire here!” James told her. “Not in the forest!”

“Why is it even trying to attack us?” Nashtra wondered out loud. “We have done it no harm.”

As if in answer to his question, the fungus monster ran past Sir Carter, narrowly avoiding his blade, and kicked the goblin. It yelled, trying to kick back, but mostly stumbled, sniveling and grumbling the whole time. He seem to be saying something very important in his goblin language, although nobody understood him.

“Hey!” Sir Carter yelled at it. “What are you two up to?”

“It looks like they started a fight earlier, and weren’t able to finish it,” James suggested.

“And the goblin probably ran into the passageway in order to get away from the fungus monster,” Nashtra added.

“Well, we brought him back outside,” Sir Carter said, “didn’t we? Now they can finish their fight!”

“What do you think, your Majesty?” Lord really asked, looking to the king.

“The creatures of the forest are better left to their own squabbles,” King Leonars told them. “Cut his ropes and let them figure it out. We have no reason to fight this fungus monster, and we have nothing else to do with the goblin. We also have no reason to protect either one.”
“As you wish, sire,” Sir Carter said. He pulled his dagger from his side, cut the goblin’s ropes, and let it run as fast as its gangly legs could carry it into the bushes.