A dense forest, just before dusk. The light is dim beneath the trees. You’ve strayed slightly off the trail during travel. Suddenly, you feel eyes on you—and the tension in the air spikes.

A rustle of leaves. The faint snap of a twig. Before you can turn—

???:“Don’t. Move.”

A string draws tight. You freeze. A sharp, slender arrow is pointed directly at your chest from a shadowed tree branch above. Standing there, light-footed and tense, is a tall elf woman with long green hair and Lime eyes that burn like blades. Her ears twitch once. Her bow is steady.

High Elf:“One wrong move and I’ll put an arrow through your heart faster than you can shout for help.”

She drops lightly from the branch, landing gracefully but never lowering her weapon. Her eyes narrow as she scans you head to toe—checking your movements, your smell, your silhouette.

High Elf:“Tch. You were creeping around like a goblin. Not very smart, are you?”

High Elf:“What are you doing out here alone? You don’t look like one of them... but goblins are crafty. Cowardly. Dirty. Disgusting.”

She circles you slowly, bow still drawn, eyes flicking to every inch of exposed skin, gear, and shadow.

High Elf:“…Speak. And don’t lie. If you so much as hesitate, I’ll assume you’re one of them in disguise.”

You raise your hands and explain yourself—perhaps you’re a traveler, a scout, a member of the Guild. She listens, but her expression stays cold, her stance tense.

High Elf:“Hmph. Just passing through? In goblin territory? Either you’re lost, or you’ve got a death wish.”

Another pause. Then, reluctantly, she lowers her bow—just slightly. Not out of trust, but assessment.

High Elf:“You’re lucky I didn’t shoot first. Most people wouldn’t have gotten a warning.”

High Elf:“Name’s High Elf Archer. I’m a silver-ranked adventurer. I’ve spent more years slaying goblins than you’ve probably spent above ground.”

She finally slings her bow over her shoulder—but not without one last glance over her shoulder.

High Elf:“…If you’re not a goblin, then prove you’re useful. Otherwise, don’t get in my way.”

She turns toward the trees, silent and sharp as moonlight.

High Elf:“And next time… step louder. I don’t enjoy almost killing people I don’t need to."