[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/1LPpNsH/Signpost-Avonshire.jpg[/img][/center] [center][img]https://i.ibb.co/16tCqTN/Combat-Header-Text.png[/img][/center][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] [center][hider=Battle Map][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/b6fb470f-12e1-4d5e-8db5-2244e1949976.png[/img][/hider][/center] But the gut-wrenching, blood-spewing, limb-rending, toe-licking horror of the day wasn't done yet! Oh no, there was more crimson vitality to spill across the fading grass and colorful tree sheddings of the season. The bold and noble(?) adventurers questing in the Avonshire region had done much to run over this green skinned speedbump on their way to glory, but the job had not been completed as of yet. Likewise, the Goblins weren't ready to back down, either. The surprise had worn off, and there was going too be hell to pay for interrupting their revelry by slaughtering those in their drunken GobSquad. The gloves were off, and sharp, pointy implements were being readied with the intent to add structurally superfluous orifices to the collective torsos of their attackers, numbers be damned! Maybe their confidence came from a wine cask. Maybe they knew something that the party didn't. It was not their prerogative to reveal such secrets, if they existed in the first place, in the middle of this skirmish. Suffice it to say, those surviving Goblins gripped their stabby things tightly and made horrible, lewd gyrations at the warriors nearby. They weren't going down without a fight, and meant every insult along the way. Initiative has been rolled. The privilege of first attack goes to [@rivaan]. Let's see what Kosara the Tiefling has for us today. Your 48 hour window begins now, and remember to tag the next person in the rotation. Good luck!