(Just because you've lost ruleswise dosn't mean we should stop playing it ;D)<br/><br/>The goblin bands, which seems to be roughly around twenty goblins, beats and claws at the priestess, enough to hurt her and make her squirm in pain. After a short while, they get over their rush of anxiousnes and remember their plans, the group of goblin picks up the tangled up priestes and carries her not too gently down one of the rooms. It leads through a corridor lit by lanterns, although Natacia see nothing more than the ceiling in. Soon they enter a large cave, the ceiling going so high that Natacia can no longer see it, even though the room is well lit by torches and what appears to be braziers. They seem to move to the middle of the room, before she is tossed down on the rough ground.<br/><br/>The large cavern is filled with goblins. Hundreds of goblins. Warriors and craftsmen and childrens and women alike, and small caves lining across the wall, which seems to be their homes. The goblins around her taunts and spits at her, but soon makes room for another figure. Wearing worn out robes, a headdress made out of feathers, and a necklace of what appears to be ears collected by various humanoid races. Human, elven, dwarven... The other goblins keeps a respectfull distance from this person as he aproaches the priestess, wielding a gnarled staff with what appears to be a halfling skull on top of it, he appears a shaman or some sort of spellcaster. A spiritual leader of his people, no doubt.<br/><br/>He tocks her hard with the staff in her side, enough to make her loose breath. "You is trespassing on Goblin land. You is come to kill tribe, and steal from tribe." He says in a broken common. "But we is strong tribe. We is kill you!" He says, and points out in a direction of the cave. The goblins scurry out of the way, as if they are convinced some magical energy will kill them if not. Further into the room, she can see four altars. Four female humanoid figures is sprawled naked across each altar, their hands bound to a chain above their head, their feet likewise at the end of the altar. Rags lines through the corners of their mouths, acting as gags for the helpless victims. Three of them are not moving, and Natacia can see dried blood at the side of the altar, obviously sacrificed to whatever dark god they worship. One of them is still moving, fighting against the bonds that hold her. A pretty brown skinned elf, probably a wild elf. The entire room seems to be fall silent as the shaman points towards the sacrifices, the entire tribe respectfully heading the wishes of their shaman, not wishing to anger him or their gods. And in the quiet background, Natacia can hear the pleading whimpers and gagged cries of panic from the elf.