God of Elven Agility and Rogues

Three figures vanished into the dense forest.

Blood left by the hunters still marked the ground. The Elf Patrol Guard had skilled Rangers who could track them by blood and footprints, so catching up would not be difficult. But before leaving, that damned human Hunter had turned to look at them, as if warning that more of them would die if they dared follow. His archery was astonishing. He fired rapidly and used Moving Shot with ease, pinning down even the elves.

"Damned hunters!"

The elven captain pulled an arrow from his shoulder and slammed his fist into a nearby tree. Since Soren had rescued the other hunters, the elves naturally assumed he was one of them. The two surviving hunters thought so too. The Hunt Church had an ugly reputation. That was how it was with Chaotic Evil deities: apart from a tiny number of their followers, everyone else regarded hunters with anything from neutrality to hostility.

"How bad are the casualties?"

The captain let a companion bandage his wound, then asked grimly, "How many did we lose?"

An older Ranger approached, his face grave. "Seven dead, six wounded."

"We killed three hunters."

"We found these on them. They look like some kind of special tokens."

Damn it!

The captain struck the tree again. If that human Hunter had not appeared, they could have wiped out the hunters. A few casualties would have been bearable. Instead, two had escaped, and their own losses were severe. Hatred, anger, and guilt churned inside him.

"What about that elf?"

"Don't know. Maybe he ran during the fight?"

"Captain, could this have been a trap?"

"I don't think so."

"That elf wasn't lying. Even if it was a trap, they wouldn't have sent only one man to help. Did we find his footprints?"