E-rank dungeon,
Open Chamber,
A goblin rose with the first dim light that threaded the chamber, as uncomplicated as any other morning in the settlement. It padded out, joints creaking, nose twitching at the familiar damp air. The path to the pond was routine—water first, then a hunt for wild hogs with the patrol.
But halfway there a sharp, foul scent struck him. He froze.
Keihhk…?
The stench thickened as he crept forward, the hairs along his neck rising. Something lay by the path—shapes that did not belong. He loped closer on quick feet and found a body. A goblin corpse. Smell washed over him: the pungent tang of another tribe.
He staggered back as recognition hit—the crude necklace, the boar tusk carved with a white-marked symbol. This body wore the mark of the other camp. And worse: the face beneath the torn skin was small, young—the chief's child.
The goblin's frantic screech echoed through the camp as it tore into the chief's hut.
