As the words on the blue screen fade away, I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves in the dimly lit cave. The World Spirit has given me a quest and I'll be damned if I don't complete it. The walls are covered in moss, and the air is thick with the stench of goblins. It stinks of rot, musk and the vague scent of their disgusting fluids. I’m locked behind a set of wooden bars. The bars are rough and engraved in profane goblin runic etchings. My wrists are bound together by thick rope.

I know exactly what happens to goblin captives. Men, women, doesn't matter. We all suffer the same fate under these filthy greenskins. I refuse to be a breeding slave for these rotten bastards.

Panic threatens to overwhelm me as I recall the events leading up to this moment. I was just a simple traveler passing through on my way to the city to sell my wood carvings when suddenly, I was ambushed by a group of goblins. They must have knocked me unconscious and brought me here, to this horrid place.

I struggle against my bindings, the rough rope digging into my skin, but my efforts seem futile. Fear and uncertainty grip me as I wonder what fate awaits me in this forsaken cave. The blue screen mentioned a quest and a reward, but what could they possibly mean? And how the hell am I supposed to escape from this insane situation? It was such a normal night, but the normal night is definitely no longer normal.

My eyes dart around the cave, searching for any sign of hope. That's when I notice it—a faint glimmer of light coming from a small opening in the wall. Could this be my chance to escape? With renewed determination, I begin to work on freeing myself from the ropes, my mind racing as I formulate a plan to get out of this nightmare.

As the goblins continue to make their eerie noises in the background, I know that time is of the essence. I must find a way to escape and complete this quest, whatever it may entail. The promise of a reward may be the only thing that can save me in this strange and dangerous land of Epoch.

I focus on the ropes binding my hands. They're rough, gritty. Made of local rope, it seems like. With every slight movement, they cut into my wrists and bite my skin. "Damn it, damn these greenskins." I whisper to myself. "Come on. These have got to come loose somehow." I test the knots. No luck. They're too tight.

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Frustration builds inside of me as I struggle against the bonds. I look around frantically. From the corner of my eye, I see it. A sharp, jagged, rock. 

With renewed determination, I shuffle towards it, the rough edges scraping against my bound hands. "Almost there." I say quietly. Inch by inch I slowly crawl towards the rock, doing my best not to attract attention.

I grasp the rock tightly, feeling its weight in my palm. It's not much, but it's all I have. I position the rock against the rope, gritting my teeth as I begin to saw back and forth. The rope resists at first, the friction sending jolts of pain through my wrists. But I press on, my desperation driving me forward.

Gradually, the rope begins to fray under the relentless assault of the rock. I can feel it giving way, inch by precious inch. Sweat beads on my brow as I continue to work, the sound of goblin chatter echoing in the background.

Finally, with one last determined effort, the rope snaps apart, freeing my hands from their confines. Relief floods through me as I rub my wrists, the sensation of freedom almost surreal.

“Yes!” I cry out loud. Unfortunately, I forgot that I’m not in the clear yet. My outcry of joy and relief did not go unheard. A long, growling, sound comes from outside the cell. Shit. I made a mistake. I grab the rope and desperately try to wrap them around my wrists again. I take the rock and I hide it behind me.

Not long after one of the filthy greenskins walks by. His face is lit by the light coming off the torches in the walls. He growls words that I don’t understand. He glares at me in anger and annoyance. My eyes drop from his horribly ugly face to his groin as a twitching draws my attention.

I must’ve been interrupting something, judging from the mound in his loincloth. He notices my look and he grins a toothy, yellow, smile. He produces a key made of bone. My eyes shoot to it and I realize despite my disgust at what might occur, this could be my chance.

The door unlocks and he stalks in, a wide lust-filled grin in his face. Hell. No. I am not going to let myself be violated by this filthy greenskin. I push myself against the wall, not bothering to feign bravery but showing my full disgust, fear and hatred. He inches closer, savoring my emotions. I swear that I could see a glint of fluid seep from his loincloth.

He reaches down for my leg, when I make my move. My right arm swings forward, the jagged rock held in a knife-grip. The long hours I spent painstakingly whittling at blocks of wood pay off as the rock buries itself in the side of it’s head.

I see a glint of fear intermixed between intelligence in it’s eyes. I had never taken the life of a sentient being before, but I had long dreamed of this moment. The greenskin menace have always been a thorn in the side of villages like mine. Kidnapping my neighbors, stealing our crops and striking fear into the hearts of the young. It feels fantastic. I feel a rush of joy as I draw my arm back again, and again, and again and again. I relentlessly bash away at it’s skull, batting away it’s flailing arms with my free-hand while the rock drenches itself in greenskin blood.

I drop the rock and look at my handiwork. A wide, almost manic grin, is etched on my face.

The World Spirit’s blue screen returns. “Congratulations! You’ve completed Chapter 1 of the quest, ‘Escape!’”

“[Travelling Whittler] Level 7!”

“Skill gained: [Precise Cut]”

“[Goblin Slayer] Level 1!”

“Skill gained: [Know Thy Enemy]: Goblins”