Lunar the shadowlion crept low, one careful step after another, through the tall, brown brush, his great paws making little noise. His targets, however, made plenty of noise. And they smelled, too. Rotten fish, sulfur, carcass. It was everything foul rolled into one, making Lunar curl his nose in disgust.

Goblins.

Filthy creatures. Disgusting.

He loathed the creatures. Loathed biting them. Loathed the feel of his claws slicing through them. And so did Dak, the ranger sharing Lunar’s headspace.

Pausing at the edge of the clearing, he watched through his pet’s eyes. Six small but vicious brutes dressed in dirty rags, with puke-green skin, large ears, sharp teeth, and rusty, useless weapons.

They didn’t sense his presence.

Of course they wouldn’t. They were just stupid goblins, and right now, Dak was Lunar. Expert hunter. Pure damage. Lunar alone would be enough to deal with the six goblins. Between the great cat’s melee attacks and Dak’s own ranged attacks, the goblins would stand no chance.

Dak had pulled their Health bars already, arranging them to the side of his vision to make for more simple targeting.

The plan? He’d open with his Barrage ability, sending a stream of arrows rapid-fire into the monsters. The attack would ignore friendly targets, allowing Lunar to sweep through, all claws and teeth, shredding any left standing.

Dak would’ve just skipped by the creatures. They were too low a level to offer any XP, and the loot would be negligible, but it would’ve taken more effort to sneak past them than to just kill them, even with Dak’s high Stealth skill.

His human feet stepped to the edge of the clearing, opposite Lunar, undetected. While not as silent and graceful as Lunar, his Camouflage skill was nothing to scoff at.

Plus, goblins were dumb.

And ugly.

You have gained +1 in Stealth

You have gained +2 in Camouflage

Dak looked at the notifications in confusion. Since when would hiding from goblins net him skill gains? He needed equal-or-higher-level opponents to gain any skills.

Maybe it was just his lucky day.

Mentally dismissing the notifications, he studied the Goblins.

Slimycave Goblin Enforcer Level 35

Slimycave Goblin Enforcer Level 34

Slimycave Goblin Enforcer Level 35

Slimycave Goblin Beater Level 36

Slimycave Goblin Beater Level 36

Slimycave Goblin Enforcer Level 35

Each stood only four feet tall. Long arms and legs, wide feet, five-fingered hands covered in dirt and muck and probably their own dung. Ripped and torn leather armor covered scaly scarred flesh. Long noses dripped snot in steady streams, their long tongues occasionally lashing out to lap it up. Wide mouths full of sharp teeth yammered to one another in a language Dak didn’t know. Yellow, beady eyes sunk deep in their reptilian faces, and giant bat ears, twice the size of their heads, twitched.

Dak drew his bow. The string creaked. He sighted a goblin and sent the mental command to Lunar.

In response, the shadowlion bounded from the bushes, roaring. The goblins shrieked but reacted surprisingly quickly, turning to face Lunar, who had now stopped. He sat on his haunches, one paw raised, licking at it as if he hadn’t just incited a war.

Dak was so stunned that he released his arrow in a shallow arch that landed several feet from its intended target. The goblins turned to him now, growling. Hate in their eyes. Dak reached for another arrow, mentally sending the commands for Lunar to continue his attack. But Lunar did nothing.

The goblins stepped closer.

“Lunar!” he shouted, thinking perhaps the creature couldn’t hear his internal summons. The shadowlion looked up with only its eyes while it licked that mammoth, black paw.

Dak cursed.

He was a ranged fighter. The whole reason he had a pet was to do the tanking and take the blows. He wore only thin leather armor. No way could he stand up to the attacks from six foes. Even if they were low-level gobs.

Across from him, Lunar stretched and lay down, idly watching the goblins as they charged Dak, now completely ignoring the great cat.

Dak turned to run, then stopped, coming face-to-face with another goblin.

Somehow, it had snuck up on him. Which explained his skill gains. How had he not noticed this one so close?

Slimycave Goblin Devastator Level 53

Dak swore again, but the impish creature grinned. Strands of flesh and other bits hung from the spaces between his teeth. It was mocking him.

Dak yelled as the first of the heavy goblin clubs cut across his back. He screamed as the second slammed into his gut.

Slimycave Goblin Devastator’s Heavy Spiked Club hits you for 30 damage.

Slimycave Goblin Devastator’s Heavy Spiked Club hits you for 20 damage.

Dak dropped his bow and tried to draw the shortsword from his hip scabbard. It was next to impossible as he avoided blows from goblins, which now surrounded him. Four of them. Maybe five? It was chaos, and Lunar was nowhere to be seen.

“Mother fu—”

Slimycave Goblin Enforcer’s Rusty Cutlass hits you for 5 damage.

In the confusion, he counted three others behind the ones currently striking him mercilessly, impatiently waiting their turn. All the creatures hissed and spat, swinging various weapons.

He continued sending commands to Lunar, which now felt more like begging. If the cat attacked now, he might still be able to survive the encounter if the big cat could tank the higher level Devastator. No way to get Barrage or any other Area of Effect special attacks off at this range. His Blades skill was low since he’d rarely needed to use a sword. However, he hoped with the difference in level between him and most of the goblins, that wouldn’t matter. That Devastator, though…

Slimycave Goblin Enforcer’s Rusty Cutlass hits you for 5 damage.

“Dammit! Lunar!”

Through a break in the goblins attack, Dak saw the cat. He made no noise. Didn’t growl, purr, nothing. Didn’t even move. Just lay on the ground watching the goblins renew their assault on his master.

Dak watched his own Health plummet. He simply couldn’t get his sword out and had now resorted to using his bare hands. It was like punching a sack of potatoes, but he placed his faith in sheer number of attacks. He swung out, connecting with the goblin in front of him.

You strike Slimycave Gobin Scout with your fist for 10 damage.

Unarmed Attack gains +1.

Dak kicked wildly and managed to hit another goblin. Again, the damage was minimal, but it bought him time.

“Lunar!” he shouted again.

The act left him open to more club attacks.

His Health bar flashed red.

His respawn point was Howell’s Hunting Camp, a collection of tents behind a wall of sharpened logs, deep in the forest. A long and dangerous corpse run from anywhere, including his current position.

He rushed forward, pushing aside the goblin in front of him, trying to make a mad dash. If he could get away, and avoid encounters with any other aggressive creatures, he could escape the goblins’ aggro range and maybe survive.

A club slammed into his leg, stealing that hope away. He stumbled. The ground was hard. Sharp rocks tore through his leathers, and he felt the fall. He rolled onto his back, staring up into rage-filled goblin eyes. It was humiliating, but his own eyes pleaded with them. They didn’t oblige.

Dak closed his eyes as a spiked club crashing into his skull.