Your gaze rakes through the veld and brambles, noting the movement of small birds and animals, as free of alarm as such creatures ever are. You relax your guard, and your gaze begins to shift—but then you see it. A single gray-brown antler, hidden in a large bush. You follow its curve, but instead of a deer’s skull, you spot a brown leather strap… and a red-skinned hand tensed as the amber-eyed hobgoblin adjusts their antler-longbow’s aim. The dull glint of an iron arrowhead winks in the low light just before a twang sounds. The birds’ wings hum in a great fluttering cloud of panic as you throw yourself to the ground.
