In the darkness of the night, a huntress killed another of her targets. To elaborate, Kruss Cragshot, Huntress of Ashenvale and Winterspring, had just fired an exquisite arrow into the neck of an unfortunate goblin, whose crime was to work for the Venture Company. She watched with silent satisfaction as the little greenskin stumbled back, clutching pointlessly at his fatal wound. She had to admit that the time it took for her prey to actually drop to his back was impressively prolonged. Almost as if not at all ready to confront death, he struggled and huffed as life left him, until finally the undergrowth greeted his pale, and very still, form.