It was highly likely that this was the high-point of Steal's day.

A roast chicken was slowly picked apart before the goblin's very eye's, flanked by... flanks of beef, juices and blood dripping and spilling from the meat as one of the older-looking paladin's dragged a serrated knife through the thick meat.

This was definitely the favourite part of Steal's day.

The mood was different here, just next door was the makeshift sleeping quarters that had been contructed out of an abandoned inn, full of the sleeping, praying and wounded. It was rather solemn there, the air felt cold and the silence was as chilling as ice.

Steal doubted it was still silent there.

The night outside had gone cold, but the raging firepit at the center of the room kept this mishmash of adventurers and holy men warm and cosy. The hot tea, warm ale, wines and food helped with that as well.

The paladins here were cheering, dancing and singing songs that Steal couldn't interpret. Though they seemed a lot jollier and happier than the few that still patrolled the streets in their armour, or the six that were stood watching the entrance to a mine carved into the cliff face. Those ones, the ones guarding the mine were behind a wall of wooden stakes that had been driven into the ground, broken crossbow bolts littered pavements outside of the mine, splotches and stains of dried blood marked the rode in great arcs and long-gone pools.

Steal didn't want to think about the blood and the guards.

He preferred this far, far more.

Hard slid a plate piled with juicy steaming meats, myriads of tough whites and tender browns formed a small hill atop the wooden dish. Steal grabbed a thin slice of brown atop the hill of meat, trickled of sweet, fatty juices ran down the back of his hand as he rammed the meat into his mouth.

Another slice.

A chunk of succulent chicken slid down his through.

Another.

Another.

By the time Steal looked up from his plate, now licked clean of every last scrap, morsel and drop, the singing had only became louder, the dancing a little less steady, and the night a lot darker. His gaze drifted to Kor'Ak, who was sat down beside him, Kelvin on his other side. Both of his companions, and most of the paladin's that weren't running in circles, arms entwined as they sung a jolly chorus, were eating slowly, using a strange, three-pronged metal tool that they would pierce the meat with before putting it in their mouths.

It was strange to the goblin, they had hands, it seemed unecessary to ever use what looked like 3 tiny dagger blades on a stick.

Steal was busy shrugging his head at Kor'Ak and Kelvin when two of the paladin's hopped on top of one of the wooden tables around the hall, they wobbled for a second, arms wrapped around one another's shoulders, offering one last cheer before a surprised yelp, as one of the table legs have in to the weight and the table toppled down.

Their fall was met by the sound of crashing metal, wooden plates hitting the stone and a barrel of wine sloshing across the ground.

There was nothing but silence for a moment as everyone looked at the table.

Two hand's rose from behind with their thumbs up.

They were met by rautious laughter and a crowd of smiles. "HUZZAH!"

Sergeant Hard just sighed, though the faintest hints of a smile could be seen in the twitch of his mouth.

A long yawn came slowly from Steal's wide maw. With his belly full, he felt sluggish and slow. Kor'Ak set his fork down, pushed the platter of food away from him and stood, taking the goblin into his arms and making his way out of the food hall, Kelvin didn't look like he'd follow along this time.

Steal's eyes slowly drooped to a close as they settled upon the bottom of Kor'Ak's head.

He felt safer now, happier now.

His eyes slowly came to a close, but he had just enough time to realise what was happening, enough time to mumble "Summon Familiar" in his garbled goblinoid tongue.

The world vanished from beneath him; Kor'Ak form faded away and he felt the arms that wrapped beneath him vanish.

His back struck the dirt below. The same clearing he'd first appeared in, though Baphomet wasn't here, not even the sight of the displaced mound of dirt and darkened grass was left.

More roaring erupted through the treeline. Of course, the one thing Steal would have liked to change didn't. Just his luck.

Quickly, the goblin made sure to check his mana by slurring that word out in his sharp and primitive manner of speaking. "Myanka"

MP: 59/78 (2.0/m)

Steal would have to keep track of this, he understood that his MP, atleast for now, was an essential resource to both his life and magic. He'd have to manage it well enough that he'd always be able to fire off a bolt if he needed to, and not kill himself.

The goblin shook his head at the thought. He couldn't die here, he could only be beaten.

His hand clenched into a fist around a jagged palm-sized rock.

Just because he couldn't die, it didn't mean he wouldn't fight for his life.

Slowly, Steal made his way into the graveyard of dead wood, keeping his gaze on the trees above and the floor below, periodically switching his focus to one of the two incase another thorny-vine-thing launched itself at him again.

Much to his great luck, it didn't. For now, his next fifteen minutes of treeking through these dead woodlands was eerily lonely; not an animal, enemy or potential ally in sight. Just the groaning of wood, and the occasional skittering sound that made Steal jump and search for something in the trees overhead that never seemed to be in sight.

He was so anxious and distracted by the skittering, that he almost didn't notice the towering creature that rose above.

In all honesty, he likely wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't walked straight into the monster's side. He yelped and darted backwards, expecting the great creature to rise and devour him. It didn't move, not a single muscle on it's massive, hairy body twitched, it didn't groan or roar.

All he could hear was the sound of flesh being torn away in strips.

Steal took another step back to take in the true size of the gargantuan beast that rose above him. It was ten-feet tall, two-legged with gigantic, muscular forearms. A thick coat of black fur covered a much thicker, grey hide that could only be seen in a few bare, bald patches on the creature's elbows , knees and back. The creature would likely have been aptly described as a guerilla or ape by one of Steal's companions, though that wouldn't be correct either.

A long, ebony horn protruded from the beast's forehead, just above it's singular, gigantic eye.

Steal would have been terrified if such a massive creature moved or roared, just by a single glance he could tell that the muscles that once rippled beneath the hide of it's arms were strong enough to practically catapult the goblin into the sky, and it's bony spike could ruin him through with ease.

He would have been terrified.

If the creature wasn't lying still, body slowly going cold.

Something skittered atop the giant and Steal jumped back again, only to see a large, black and blue, eight-legged creature picking through strips of flesh on the gargantuan simian's back. A tarantula.

The creature turned to face Steal as it caught sight of him, it's cluster of black eyes seemingly focusing upon him.

It tapped it's forelegs together then shuffled a little awkwardly, before beginning to peel away another strip of tough muscle from the beast's back.

Daemon-Tongue Level 1 Is Now (Active)

A voice came to him in his mind, it didn't seem aggressive, though it came with a rough, gruff tone, whilst still distinctly that of a woman.

Sup green freakshow, you one of those warlock assholes?

Steal's eyes fell back to the creature that the tarantula was seemingly proudly standing atop of.

Oh, that guy? Yeah he was on my turf, told him to go away and he didn't... So... Y'know... Not my fault

She slurped up another long strand of sinew.

The name is Adolfus...

Steal swore he could here the spider cackle as she clacked her mandibles together.

And you're on my turf.