You move slowly through the underbrush, carefully picking the position of each footstep so as to not make a sound, less concerned with staying low than you are with staying quiet. In the dense brush, obscured by branches and bushes constantly moving and swaying in the breeze, you're going to be no easier to see standing than you are crouching - but the snap of a twig or the crunch of dry leaves underfoot will give your position away in an instant.

Your name is ${name}, and you're an adventurer - or at least, you used to be. Right now, you suppose, you're technically a mercenary or a privateer. You're a ranger, experienced in hunting, tracking, and orienteering, and you're currently under contract as a scout for the human nation of Larion in their ongoing war against the elves of Alinos. Your job is simply to search the area for signs of enemy movements and report back, but two days ago you picked up the trail of an enemy scout, and since then, you've found yourself in a deadly game of cat-and-mouse.

At first you'd planned to retreat and report contact, but the elven scout isn't going to let you go so easily. When you doubled back, you quickly discovered traps had been set on the path you followed, and carefully concealed ones at that. You've been carefully maneuvering ever since, trying to get the drop on one another. Your heat skips a beat as you spot your quarry up ahead. Her back's to you, and she's squatting on the ground, her bow propped up against a nearby tree. She's an elven woman, with long blonde braided hair and pointed ears.

You hear a wet trickling noise as your gaze sweeps lower, over the carefully crafted leather armor that leaves her shoulders exposed, down to her bare ass, her pants around her ankles, and the golden stream drizzling from between her legs. You feel yourself blush as you realize you've literally caught her with her pants down.

You wonder if you should wait, or take advantage of her embarrassing distraction to get the drop on her.