Lizzy, Goblin Fire Mage

It's no secret that goblins love their explosions. In Kezan, you can't walk more than a few metres before finding a roof hastily patched after an amateur pyrotechnician blew up what they called their study. The best pyrotechnicians on the island are admired not so much for the beauty of their explosions, but for their ability to survive them. The best of the best were able to achieve both. There was a goblin couple who were especially adept at the craft, but more than their explosions, they especially prized their young daughter, Lizzy. They loved her, taught her everything they knew about explosions and couldn't wait to have her join the family business of using explosives to entertain trade princes.
But then, Deathwing came. Goblinkind panicked in the streets, rushing to get to the boats before the volcano's eruption swallowed them. Lizzy and her parents were in their workshop then, trying to gather up as many explosives they could carry. You could always use explosives as a refugee. They never managed to get to the boats. The stress of Deathwing's sudden appearance, mixed with the panic and rush to evacuate ignited Lizzy's latent magic. Her first spell wasn't much, a tiny spark barely, but it was enough to have disastrous effects. The workshop blew up instantly. Lizzy was blown out on the street. They were nearly empty by then, all the goblins had already moved to the docks, trying to swarm their way onto a boat. Thankfully, there were still some near enough to notice the explosion. Or rather, near enough to do something about it. It was a big explosion. It could probably be seen all the way in Winterspring. The local snuff troupe, trying to bring with them as many props and torture implements as possible, hadn't reached the bustle of the docks yet. They found Lizzy lying in her neighbour's astroturf. She was badly burned and injured, but she managed to ask where her parents were. The troupe leader took a look at the crater that used to be Lizzy's house. She gestured towards Lizzy and the hobgoblin standing next to her grabbed the poor girl. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," said the troupe leader. "They're gone." Lizzy was too exhausted to cry. The troupe, new member in tow, made their way to a rickety ship the greedy goblins were ignoring as they tried to buy their way onto one of the more luxurious yachts. In Durotar, the troupe managed to bounce back, young Lizzy lending her explosive knowledge and personality to the production.