[b][color=00a651]Matrim[/color][/b] Heading down the mountain, at the edge of Seren’s Folly Smoke caught Matrim’s attention, smoke coming from not very far. It did not seem of the ordinary type, and had started too suddenly to be normal. [color=00a651]“Town, or bonfire? Or town in a bonfire?”[/color] he wondered under his breath. He began to run towards the smoke’s direction, slightly glad to be finally back on trail. Whatever it was, he would arrive soon enough. He was slightly out of breath as he began to hear noise to his left. Curious, he looked over to see a mass of goblins also running towards the smoke. [color=00a651]“Goblins?”[/color] he asked, raising an eyebrow. Of all the creatures to see, he was not expecting goblins. [color=00a651]“Goblins!”[/color] he yelled out, now excited. Goblins! It was perfect! Perfect perfect! Some of the goblins had apparently heard his shout, and were now approaching him. Matrim once again attached the spearhead to his staff, and looked at the smoke and then the goblins who were approaching. Upon reconsideration, Matrim was beginning to regret his excited shout. He had attracted a few goblins. Nevermind, a large amount of goblins. Oh god, how many goblins were there? [color=00a651]“Mistakes were made!”[/color] Matrim shouted to himself before running down the mountain towards the smoke. He ran fast, but goblins had a tendency of sometimes catching up. They would approach and leap towards him, and Matrim would have to stab the little shit before it could pin the hunter to the ground. If he fell at all during this moment, it would likely be over for him. Goblins were perverted bastards, and would ensure his death would be painful and embarrassing. No hunter wanted their gravestone to be: [color=00a651][i]RIP this experienced hunter of great legend who killed something scary, then got raped and eaten by goblins of all things.[/i][/color] A wonderful root likely designed to ruin Matrim’s life suddenly caught his foot and sent him careening to the ground. Being on a slope Matrim rolled slightly before stopping and allowing him to curse the tree and rue the day it was planted before having to get up and run again. Unfortunately the fall was long enough to allow several goblins to catch up to him, one snatching and grabbing onto his leg. The grab sent Matrim back to the ground, who then stabbed the shitty goblin responsible for the fall. Two more goblins piled on, and Matrim drew a flintlock pistol and shot one right in the chest. The noise of the pistol going off sent harsh ear-splitting noise through his head due to the shot being way too close, but at least he murdered the goblin. The second goblin Matrim grabbed onto and shoved it off, allowing him to stand and stab the shit in the head. More goblins came and more goblins were slain. Matrim’s blood spilled out from multiple wounds from too close of encounters, especially on his legs. By the time he got to the bottom of the mountain, he and his spear was soaked in both goblin blood and his own, and was not even close to done yet. More goblins came towards the hunter, and Matrim focused on keeping upright while ending the life of each little shit that dared approach him. He was near where the smoke was now, but couldn’t even concentrate on that as he continued fending off each and every goblin. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [b][color=00aeef]Aromull[/color][/b] Outside Witches Paradise Near whoever is close The thrill of going out to witness the hunting of wendigos was temporarily delayed due to the strange incursion of a goblin attack on the town. Hunters began to rush out and combat the new threat, as all were easily able to capably slay a multitude of the curious creatures. Aromull followed behind Flint out the door, still holding out his notepad. Goblins were a measly group of rather strange creatures that he technically already had a chapter on, but he was never one to turn down too much information, especially with an attack of this caliber. [i][color=00aeef]Creature seems to be easily distracted with its current task, and fall for the simplest of taunts such as bellowing out a challenge,[/color][/i] he wrote while gazing at Bobby who was currently fighting off multiple goblins with ease. [color=00aeef]“I wonder why goblins would attack here. These creatures don’t ever seem to like approaching towns, especially large ones such as this. You think they were riled up somehow, or perhaps driven by desperation? Or maybe there was a rival horde or monstrous creature who drove them out of their lands. Wendigos are unlikely, but it is a possibility I suppose. What do you think?”[/color] He asked, glancing over at Flint, who was currently crushing a goblin that made the odd decision to jump on the veteran hunter’s back. It was a bit of overkill, and the goblin was certainly dead after Flint rammed his back into the building. [color=00aeef]“Very interesting method,”[/color] the scholar commented, who was still writing a few notes. [i][color=00aeef]Does not seem to care about or analyze threats, even obviously dangerous ones. This is perhaps due to a frenzied mode while in the moment of raids such as the current one I am witnessing. Death does not seem to matter to many, or is at the very least not considered. Overwhelming targets is the obvious tactic, and can be quite effective.[/color][/i] Aromull’s writing was cut a bit short as he became the target of one of the goblins. The goblin did not hesitate to jump at him, but missed aiming for the chest as the scholar took a small step backwards and instead landed on Aromull’s leg. Regardless of missing, the goblin decided to start digging in, slicing through Aromull’s pants and painfully clawing at his legs. Aromull gritted his teeth and halted himself before a curse exited his mouth, cursing was not very gentlemanlike. [color=00aeef]“Oh very well,”[/color] he said unamused. He had been hoping to write a few more observations before assisting, but the number of goblins was too great for Aromull to be ignored entirely by the creatures. A swift kick from the scholar’s foot set back the goblin a few paces, giving him enough time to tuck away his notepad and unsheath his sword. The weapon was of shortsword variant, about three-quarters the length of a regular longsword, seemed to be of a delicate and expensive brand, and would be considered by many hunters [i]too[/i] clean. Aromull had to admit he hadn’t used the shortsword in quite some time, as many expeditions with other hunters had deemed him unnecessary to ever actually fight, which he was always quite alright with. The goblin was back on its feet and jumped again at Aromull, who was prepared this time with a simple jab into the creature’s chest. The goblin was stopped and fell back onto the ground, wounded but not dead. Two more goblins nearby suddenly leaped out at Aromull, one slashing at and trying to pin his right arm down. [color=00aeef]“They seem to be attempting to restrain my limbs and allow others to take advantage, how interesting!”[/color] he analyzed as he sliced at the goblin who was holding the arm. [color=00aeef]“Unfortunate for it to go for the arm without the weapon.”[/color] The goblin previously injured was back on its feet, and leaped right at Aromull and was able to knock his balance off and take him down on the ground. Aromull began to wrestle with the creature, trying to get his shortsword in the correct direction to impale the creature. [color=00aeef]“Ah, foolish of me to underestimate them!”[/color] he commented as he continued to struggle, not seeming very worried or stressed over his precarious situation.