There are too many, thought Butler, rounding the corner to see a
virtual army of B’wa Kell slotting fresh batteries into their weapons. The
goblins, when they noticed him, began to think things like: Oh gods, it’s a
troll in clothes! Or, Why didn’t I listen to Mom and stay out of the gangs?
Then Butler was above them, on the way down. He landed like the
proverbial ton of bricks, but with considerably more precision. Three
goblins were out cold before they knew they’d been hit. One shot himself
in the foot, and several others lay down, pretending to be unconscious.

-The Arctic Incident, Chapter 13