[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/JS8jLJq.png[/img][/center]
[b][color=000000]Time[/color][/b]
🌑 Late Morning.

[b][color=000000]Location[/color][/b]
🌑 Riverport - Deep Forest.

[b][color=000000]Interactions[/color][/b]
🌑 N/A.

[b][color=000000]Mentions[/color][/b]
🌑 N/A.

[b][color=000000]Equipment[/color][/b]
[hider=🌑 Blackguard's Casuals]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/sK6gTru.png[/img][/hider]
[hider=🌑 Ebony Thorn, Ebony Ward]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/v7YyneW.png[/img]
[/hider]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/ToiIM6a.png[/img][/center]

Twigs snapped underfoot, weightless steps proving too harsh for old, dried husks of what used to be a tree’s pride. Slowly, a demonic tail swayed from side to side, topaz eyes scanning the moss-covered ground for clues and a path. Guarded by the dark embrace of an obfuscating hood, Ashari’s sight was thankfully spared pain otherwise associated with the large celestial orb residing skyward. In scenarios akin to this, Ashari was left leaning towards what he had learned. A Monster Hunter was not merely a slayer of abominations, but a tracker, and a pursuer. To slay the beast, he must first find it. 

Tracks, haphazard and frightened, stretched across the forest floor. Branches lay broken and crushed along the stretch, and Ashari noted a peculiar addition he would much rather have been avoided. Blood, droplets of crimson red now a dark remnant soaking into the ground. This was not recent, but rather, he could determine that spilled sanguine wine dated back at least a full day. A small cut was the culprit, as echoes of life’s nectar were scarce, but trailed alongside a hurried gait all the same. 

[color=b18f71]”Heavy footsteps, followed by..,”[/color] the boy frowned, taking a moment to analyze this scene before him. [color=b18f71]”A party of them..,”[/color] Ashari uttered, eyes falling shut as a vast array of outcomes played out within the lad’s mind. Indeed, the demi-human he was looking for had likely met his end, unless he was caged within a sphere of bone, wood, and sinew. Ashari knew those movements, he recognized those following footsteps getting ever closer to his charge. Goblins.

With a sigh, the demon fell to a knee, tracing his spindly claws against the shape of a goblin’s heavy step. He recalled what the boy’s father had taught him, how these creatures were time and time again repeatedly underestimated and as such, earned themselves a healthy batch of adventurers in stews and cages. 

[i]’Goblins are pathetic creatures, Ashari. They are weak, cowardly, and incredibly dangerous. Yes, in a fight you would be able to cut down a horde of them without breaking a sweat, but tell me, where do you fight a goblin?’[/i]

In their territory; that was the answer Ashari could not provide when first confronted by that question. Terrain was everything. Today, he knew better, and he was aware of the danger goblins posed, the dredges of monstrosity, those who were often cast aside with a scoff and whose devastating actions were laughed at. The truth of the matter was, however, that goblins always held the upper hand. One never fought a goblin on equal grounds, one fought them in their own home, marching into a spider’s web.

Traps, ambushes, slithering in the dark, goblins utilized tactics that had earned them this badge of caution. It was true that a Blackguard like Ashari would be able to cut these beasts down had he fought them on a different battlefield entirely, but as it was, he could foretell the outcome. Arrows from behind bushes, spikes beneath moss, daggers in the back, and distractions at the front. These abominations fought as one, despite their presumed nature as mindless beasts. 

Rising to his feet, Ashari turned and started back towards Riverport. If he was to confront this menace, he would need companions. Approaching a goblin’s den on one’s own had spelled the doom of those less prepared, and where the young demon was more than ready to meet his end in battle, it would not be because of his own stupidity.