The forest was eerily quiet, save for the distant chittering of unseen critters and the occasional tremors shaking the earth. Each time Ashergon roared, the heavens seemed to quiver in response, sending ripples through the ground and rattling the trees.
The Red Cap Goblins were already accustomed to the unnatural disturbances. This hunt had dragged on far longer than they had anticipated, and frustration burned in their weary limbs. They were hunting members of the Goddess Race—a hunt that should have ended long ago. Yet their prey had not only evaded capture but had also managed to kill their mage, slaughter several of their kin, and grievously wound others.
Hatred burned in their eyes, but even that rage couldn't mask their exhaustion.