Thick vegetation, steamy temperatures and exotic animals. Silas Korell often prepares for many scenarios, but exploring a jungle wasn't, "<strong>where's the forest?</strong>" Silas practically complained as they trudged through the undergrowth, "<strong>this sorta foliage just ain't natural, at least here... Ugh</strong>" Silas rubbed his brow and saw his hand become slick with a sheen of sweat. Growing up in the temperate climate that was East Avistan, this sort of steamy environment was utterly alien to him, "<strong>whatever's causing this, I'm not convinced it's part of our job description to fix it</strong>" He was cut off by a low-hanging branch which caught at the fabric of his leather armor, scraping along the surface but otherwise causing no damage. Even so, it was annoying, "<strong>although I'm getting more and more willing to solve this little riddle if it means removing this <em>damn jungle.</em></strong>"<br/><br/>Silas stopped his inane prattle as the group neared a clearing in the dank, humid jungle. Dismounting, Silas hastily tied his horse to a nearby tree as he edged closer, noticing that the clearing was not quite clear, "<strong>are those...</strong>" he mulled as he observed the assortment of bloated, napping Kobolds. He gave a scowl as he biliously muttered, "<strong>fuckin' Kobolds.</strong>"<br/><br/>Throughout his career Silas has always known Kobolds to be more of a nuisance than anything. Quick, weak and prone to cowardice, they were easy to kill but annoyingly difficult to eradicate. They were vermin in Silas's eyes (not to mention business competitors; Kobolds were willing to take jobs for lower wages compared to the Rogue) and vermin only had one solution, "<strong>I'll take the blighter over there with the spear</strong>" Silas whispered, motioning towards one of the sleeping creatures. His hand reached for his blade, silently revealing a foot of steel, "<strong>if luck's on our side, I'll be able to dispatch two of them before they even know what's going on.</strong>"