King of the Rats
A rat, that is what I am. Well, to be exact I'm a man rat. an abomination of untold proportions, a deviant to the beauty of mother nature. Born to inhabit the dirtiest of sewers and the deepest of holes. To hide away beneath the dirt only leaving to hunt down some of the weaker prey. That is the race I was born into. The weakest of the weak, a fetid and miserable group whose hatred for one another is only beaten by our immense dislike for Goblins. Those scummy little green trash. But me, I am an outlier to this, an anomaly of sorts. For I was not born a brainless buffoon who can only feel hatred and hunger. I was born intelligent.
Run boy run
My heart raced as I threw myself into the pit. My claws scrape away at the dirt desperately trying to uncover anything.
Sniffer and Twig stood motionless as if bewildered at the scene in front of them.
How, how did they find us? Those bastards shouldn't even know rats are here let alone be able to find our burrow.
My claws slowed as I reached the harsh rocky layer which lay beneath the soil. There was nothing. The hole had been cleared out completely. No bags, no sleeping material and most importantly no Thassius.
Fuck, fuck, fuck what have I missed. How did they find us?
The only variable still present is that goblin woman but why would she know where we were?
Crawling out of the pit I gave a brief yet calculative survey of our surroundings. What happened wasn't hard to guess. While we were away the hole had been ambushed by trolls. The heavy indents in the dirt gave away their presence.