The hobgoblin ninja zipped from rooftop to rooftop. Its leg power and agility were such that it could cover five meters in a single jump with ease, more if it wanted to.
It had heard the call of the red moon, the announcement of the Crimson Hunt. As per their tradition, every hob would come out of their hiding place to face the enemies head-on. The ninja didn't know where it originated from, but it knew it was important. Or at least it felt like it.
Such tradition was meant to prove their bravery to the… it didn't remember to what, probably to themselves, it supposed.
No matter, what was important was in front of its eyes.
Crouching on all four, on a rooftop near the despicable cathedral, the ninja heard its preys inside the disgusting building shouting weird sounds.
