The Next Hunt

Another body falls.

 

A goblin.

 

The goblin offered gold for information, but the Marksman was not interested in buying his information from someone could be feeding him false information. Pain was a better respondent as it seemed to prove that the goblin knew nothing at all. The life faded from his eyes as quick as the goblin’s body was dragged into the loose soil. Vines and roots wrapped around the goblin’s torso as the Marksman’s hands were concentrated with green magic. His druid training was adept enough to summon nature to do his dark bidding.

 

Blood trickled his beard and his rugged, scarred face as he leaned back against a nearby tree. He was drained, the small goblin had put up a fight with his gadgets and magics of his own. Both frost and scorched portions of his armor showed signs of a recent battle.

 

“Damnit, that was difficult.” He spoke under his breath, slumping against the bark of the fel-tainted bark. He closed his eyes, taking rest for the moment.

 

Just a nap.

 

—

 

Kanta’s eyes woke with a start and he stood up quickly, dagger in hand as he looked around. Nothing, just dreams. Just the sounds of the jungle’s fauna moving and living their lives.

 

He was surprised to still be alive at this point, usually being left alone in the jungle with no defense and being asleep lead to bad results. Luckily for the Marksman, the fel wolves that Kanta took in under his wing were not far from his stay. They knew to stay out of sight until he called for them.

 

Foot steps.

 

The kaldorei quickly climbed to the trees, digging his fingers into the bark and launching his body further into the tree, silver eyes determined to reach the highest branches and remain out of sight. Was it friend or foe? Demon or Orc? His eyes would settle on the sight just out from earshot for most other races, but the clatter of plate armor was enough to catch his attention.

 

The appearance was that to be a Sin’dorei, and judging by armor alone she looked to be a Paladin. He was just far enough away to take notice to those glowing, green eyes. The same green that matched to the fel energies that floated in the air and from the earth of Tanaan.

 

His next prey.

 

Kanta notched his bow and waited. The Sin’dorei would come to him, and if there was something Kanta knew best about stalking prey, is that patience was the true teller of everything. If Kanta waited, she would come, and she would find the head of his arrow.

“Come, Sin’dorei. Perhaps you know more than your fallen allies.”