Diplomacy

After considering your options, you decide that waiting for an opportunity to strike from behind is not the best course of action, nor is charging headfirst into battle. Taking a deep breath, you step out from your hiding place, fixing your gaze on the small bipedal creature before you. However, upon closer inspection, you realize that it is not an orc but a goblin—a goblin like you've never encountered before.

This goblin stands at around 4 feet tall, smaller than the average orc warrior. However, what catches your attention is her well-defined muscular physique, displaying abs and biceps that even the strongest lumberjacks would envy. Her green skin is adorned with a wild mess of purple hair, and her attire consists of tribal wear. You note that she appears to be female, except for her small perky breasts.

You can't help but blurt out, "A goblin?" in your moment of confusion. Goblins are typically regarded as lesser foes, easily dispatched. However, this goblin standing before you defies the stereotypes. She replies in a mocking tone, "A human?" Her fanged mouth forms the words, and her purple eyes seem to match her hair, conveying a hint of sarcasm.

Recalling your studies, you remember that some goblins can speak common, although it is rare. Nonetheless, this goblin's command of the language surprises you. You quickly gather your composure, reminding yourself of your intention to resolve this peacefully.

"Hello Goblin, I am an adventurer searching for a man who went missing near the Darkwood village outskirts. Can you provide any information or kindly step aside? I have no desire to harm or kill you today," you address her, trying to maintain a diplomatic tone.

In response, she introduces herself as Kefla, the Chief of her tribe, and dismisses your inquiry, claiming it is none of your business. Her statement is accompanied by a hint of a threat. You tighten your grip on "Rose's Thorn," contemplating her words. Does she know what happened to Samuel? Is she attempting to intimidate you?

Maintaining your composure, you insist, "If you do know what happened to him, I must insist that you tell me now."

Her response surprises you once again, as she taunts, "What if I do? What are you and your little sword going to do about it?" An evil smirk stretches across her face, revealing her sharp fangs and locking eyes with you.

Her provocation stirs anger within you, but you manage to retort, "I will cut you down with ease. Perhaps I will only maim you so that you can provide me with the information before you bleed out." With determination, you hold your ground, ready to face her in combat.

As the tension builds, she begins to stretch and flex her muscles, preparing for a fight. Although she lacks a weapon, she exudes confidence and raises her fists in a fighting stance.

"Come on then, little boy. Let's see if you put up more of a fight than the others," she challenges you. The mention of "others" briefly distracts you, but you shake off any unnecessary thoughts. You are in battle now.

Adopting a defensive stance, honed through years of training and praised by the sword masters of your house, you tighten your grip on "Rose's Thorn." You decide to engage her verbally, hoping to unsettle her guard with your wit, just as you would with a parry.

"Come, vile little creature. Allow me to paint the undergrowth with your blood," you taunt, unleashing a verbal ****.

"Haha, you're cute!" she responds with genuine amusement. "If you even land one blow on me with that thing," she says, gesturing toward "Rose's Thorn," "I will take you to my village and help you find Samuel. Deal?"

Her fanged grin and confident smirk leave you wary, unsure if she's trying to put you off guard. However, considering your current situation and her proposition, you decide to play along for now and buy yourself some time to come up with a plan.

"If I land one blow, you will be dead. But you're welcome to try and dodge them all," you respond, your voice laced with determination. Closing the distance between you, you enter into a focused state, ready to engage in combat.

Taking the initiative, you swing at her with an opening strike, but she swiftly pulls back one arm, evading the blade's path. Anticipating her evasion, you follow up with another attack, aiming to sever her head from her shoulders. However, she skillfully ducks and dodges, gracefully moving backward on the balls of her feet.

Impressed by her agility, you can't help but admit, "Quite impressive." But you quickly remind yourself that all it takes is one mistake on her part, one moment of exhaustion or miscalculation, and the tide could turn in your favor. To illustrate your point, you gesture toward the brambles that "Rose's Thorn" had effortlessly cut through during your earlier attacks.

"I know," she responds, her tone serious for the first time. "Now stop treating this like a game, little boy. I'm getting bored, and things that bore me don't last long."

Acknowledging her warning, you understand that it's time to stop playing around. Implementing your well-practiced footwork, you unleash a flurry of strikes from various angles, aiming to overwhelm her defenses. However, she continues to dodge and dance around your blade, her movements becoming faster and more fluid.

Despite your best efforts, you struggle to land a hit. The frustration builds, and you find yourself losing your cool. Your attacks become wild and uncontrolled, driven by anger and exhaustion. Yet, she effortlessly evades each blow, her dance intensifying.

Taking a step back to create some space, you find yourself sweating profusely, the sting of perspiration in your eyes. You pant lightly, trying to catch your breath.

"How? How are you dodging all my attacks?" you exclaim, frustration evident in your words. Your years of training seem futile against this extraordinary goblin.

"Attacks? I thought you were swatting at flies," she taunts, her tone dripping with amusement. "But if that's your best, I may have to end this quickly."

Her words only serve to fuel your rage, but you also notice that something seems off. She moves with incredible agility, yet there are no footprints left behind, no marks on the ground from her steps. Before you can fully process this observation, she ducks beneath one of your wild swings and swiftly steps forward, delivering a punch to your midsection.

As you watch her spot an opening as Kefla's hand reaches towards you. A glimmer of hope ignites within you, her hand will break on your Feather-Steel armor this is a chance you cant miss, you must seize the opportunity to retaliate. Tightening your grip on "Rose's Thorn," you raise your sword, preparing to deliver a decisive downward stab into her **** position.

Then In an unexpected turn of events the wind is knocked out of you, sending you sprawling backward. You lay confused as shards of your sundered breastplate land around you. The impact had shattered your armor. Struggling to catch your breath, you lie on the ground, the pain reverberating through your body.

"How you doing, down there, cutey?" Kefla stands over your crumpled form, hands on her hips. Her muscular physique is now fully revealed, barely concealed by her hide bra and long draped loincloth.

Struggling for breath, you make a feeble attempt to speak, but the pain, exhaustion, and overwhelming confusion leave you speechless. Questions flood your mind: How did she manage to break through your armor? How could she inflict such damage with a single blow? The mysteries of her strength and skill leave you utterly perplexed, adding to the overwhelming defeat you currently face.

"Doesn't look like you fared too well, little boys shouldn't play with toys like that," she taunts, gesturing towards your limp grasp on "Roses Thorn." As she notices a trail of purple ooze on her bicep, her expression shifts to surprise. "Huh, a cut?" She examines it closely, the thin, razor-like wound oozing her unique purple blood. "Well, I'll be damned... you actually got me." She pauses, a evil grin showing, "I suppose a deal's a deal, il take you to my village." Extending her small, clawed hand, she offers it to you, a gesture of assistance to help you back on your feet.

Doubts flood your mind as you question whether this is some kind of trick. Can you trust this creature? But considering your current situation, do you really have a choice? She effortlessly bested you, with only a superficial wound inflicted apon her. Perhaps you can use this opportunity to gather information from her and plan your escape when the time is right. While she may be swift, her small stature should be a disadvantage over long distances.

You carefully weigh your options and reluctantly accept her offer, cautiously reaching out to grasp her hand

She laughs "actually I better make sure you can't run away. She steps forward onto your chest and stokes you in the head.

Everything goes black.