When I was eleven years old, it was a very good year, and I can remember my daily routine vividly. These were the years before I owned a Sony Playstation, and I used to venture to my friends house - everyday after school - to watch him play through Final...
In those troubled times when everyone might easily come across trolls or even uglier ones, when every child kept a revolver under his or her pillow, there was only a nearby tavern to beguile a boring afternoon. At the late hour all are equal at the bar desk - either a sheriff, or a hunter, or a nasty troll. They said a city bank was robbed, and everybody who seems to be capable of breaking strong safe locks has fallen under suspicion.
No one likes thieves, but goblins running away with the gold backpacked displeasure doubly! The time has come to hunt - the most accurate gunner takes it all.