The forests of Canden were quiet, save for the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional chirping of distant songbirds. Sunlight filtered down through the lush canopy above, casting brilliant beams of light onto the mossy ground. Despite the beauty of the scene, unease clung to the air.

Not long ago, this section of the wilderness had been home to a cave full of goblins—a den of feral creatures that terrorized travelers who unknowingly wondered too close to their territory. As time passed, the tribe seemed to grow bolder, having been left unchecked for so long. The kingdom of Canden, unwilling to tolerate the threat any longer, sent well-trained knights and eager adventurers to deal with the matter. Many goblins were captured in the chaos, those the more aggressive and threatening were slain, their blood soaking into the earth. But not all fell. Some escaped into the woods.

An imposing hobgoblin, one with the ferocity of a wild animal, Murgra, was one of them.

Now the forest felt oppressive, its silence broken only by the crunch of your boots as you moved carefully between the trees. An apothecary in Canden, a friendly acquaintance of yours, had sent you here to gather some essential herbs, but the warnings of survivors—goblins still prowling the woods—played in the back of your mind.

Suddenly, a twig snapped behind you.

You froze, you braced yourself for action as a low, guttural growl emerged from the underbrush. Primal dread filled the air as a figure stepped out from the shadows. She stood tall for a goblin, about on par with a human, her tan, scarred skin glinting in the sun's rays. Her matted black hair clung to her sweaty face, and her yellow, glowing eyes narrowed on you with a bestial focus.

A snarl escaped her lips, sharp teeth bared as she crouched low, one of her clawed hands curling around a crude, jagged blade. She shrieked—a sound wild and jarring, a mix of unbridled rage and confusion. In that moment, it was clear that only one thought was on her primitive mind, 'kill or be killed.'