Text Box: 	Not far behind the goblins that had been following heard the screams and held for a second, one of the smaller shuffled up to the leader and with a whimper in his voice spoke “What demons wander these woods, I have never heard the proud elves scream so. We should flee before the same fate befalls us!”
The Goblin leader looked down on the speaker, snarled and buried his knife deep within its chest, the breath that escaped the dying goblin whined with confusion and fear. As the corpse sank to the ground the Leader spun and faced the rest of the warband and spoke in gruff voice, “Any of you DARE to question my judgement will suffer the same fate. We have hunted these elves for days and I will not fall for their tricks! I WILL NOT LET MY PRIZE ESCAPE! NOW ON WARDS!!!!”
The Goblin’s not knowing what to fear chose to follow their somewhat irate leaders orders.
	After a short trek the screams died down and silence filled the woodland. The Goblins breath hung heavy in the damp undergrowth. Soon enough the undergrowth became thicker and thicker, slowing the goblins, even there scouts were having difficulty finding a suitable path.
	“HALT” screamed the goblin leader “Scouts, I want you to track ahead and find these elves, We could trudge around like this all day! I have no time for it!”
	“Sir the woods are thick, it could be difficult to find this warband, let alone a score of elves! We must have some sort of beacon to guide us back. Especially with the light fading.” Spoke the chief scout.
	“Then make it so, spark some torches. Scouts move before I hang you up my self!”

	Gorim speed through the undergrowth, he knew that something was following him, and nothing he could do seemed to shake it. He’d seen it move, at first he thought it might have been a wolf, but it’s scent was wrong. Tears rolled down his face, his heart raced so fast it could have burst at any moment. The branches cut into his face and arms, he’d probably lost most of his arrows and he already had his rust short sword drawn. He saw the light of the warband’s torches, his pace quickened, he thought about shouting for help but whatever was chasing him would know exactly where he was if he did. He stole a quick look behind himself, and caught a glimpse of not one pair of glimmering eye’s but two. He spurred him self on harder in a desperate attempt to reach the warband. No more than 30 feet from the warband he was hit by an incredible force to the side, enough to carry him off the ground. As he hit the ground he felt all the wind go from him, in server pain he rolled on the ground clutching his side, as he looked up his eyes widened as he tried to scream. However he failed to make a single sound before the foot long claws of his pursuer drove deep into his chest.

	The warband heard the rustling in the bushes, and many swore they could see things moving between the trees. Nerves were starting to run high and the goblins were starting to get twitchy. None of the scouts had returned and the light had gone many hours ago, without them they may not be able to find their way back to the beaten paths. However the last five minutes had pushed that worry back to their heads. The movement in the surrounding undergrowth were a little more worrying. Soon enough the pressure became to great and three of the goblins broke and fled in the direction they thought was the best. As they made it to out side the touch glows they were pulled into the bushes. The rest of the warband heard the screams and sound of breaking bones as they were torn apart by the darkness.
	Gra-pak the goblin leader tried his best to hold his ranks, and almost managed it. His efforts were destroyed as a massive howl echoed through the woodland, the goblins swung to face the howls origin, but saw nothing. All of a sudden the screams of battle erupted from the flanks and rear, Gra-Pak turned to see massive creatures, some standing almost seven feet tall, some carrying elven style weapons others just using there claws, which were around a foot long in length. The goblins numbers fell with very little resistance. Many fled into the undergrowth in the hope that they could escape the beast creatures. As the goblins attempted to reform some sort of shield wall they were struck again from the rear by yet more of the beasts. Gra-Pak turned to face one of the beast, he gasped as it stood almost eight foot tall, he looked into it’s eyes, and recognised them. The look of horrific surprise held his face until he was hit by an incredible backhand blow from the beast, he flew and crashed into a tree, breaking his backbone as he collided. As he lay paralysed and gasping for breath he saw his war band torn apart and slaughtered. As he felt his breath to slip away he looked up into the face of the beast that crippled him and questioned, “How? You were elves? …. What witch craft is this?”
	Kestrel grinned and snarled a reply, “You have caused to much pain to the spirits of this land, the land uses us to fight back and we will clear this land of your presence.” As he said this he turned and walked away.
Gra-Pak called after them as they disappeared into the night “You can’t leave me here like this! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!” No reply came except the glowing eyes of the woodland animals. Gra-Pak knew that he would die here, die alone, die at the hands of the land he took for granted, he also knew that he would not be the last to die by it’s hands, those that we now call beastmen.
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