And without further ado...the prey was gone.

Oh not gone as in no longer present, but gone as in ethereal, racing through the tree itself to conceal even the sight of the swirling shadows from the hunter...or is it hunted?

The ever danger of setting an ambush, of springing a trap or attacking an enemy by surprise, is the possibility of being ambushed, trapped, or surprised yourself. One shoots an arrow at a king, only for it to be blocked by magic and a bolt of lightning tracing the arrow's path back to the shooter. One leads a party of bandits to attack a weakly guarded wagon convoy...only for the wagons to have been full of heavily armed soldiers, waiting for you. One creeps their way up behind a ranger in a tree...

Only for the tree to explode.

Eight of the explosive packets used to make this Ranger's explosive arrows have already fallen halfway to the tree from the Ranger's grip-as many as he could carry in both hands-when the elf turned ethereal. Each exploding on impact a fraction of a second later, as they tumble into each other and the tree branches, utterly vaporizing the top of the tree and leaving only a blackened stump at the bottom...and taking a sizable number of branches off the trees nearby. If it were not for his incorporeal form, Cruallassar would have smiled grimly, as the thought runs through his head.
Dodge that, you SOB.