“Mmmppphhh!” The plaintive moan echoed through the desolate, empty streets and ruined buildings of the Lost City, a frantic cry for help. Though it was hard to tell with all the echoes, Zuakara thought she was getting close. The young, female ranger crouched, bow in hand, an arrow notched. The Lost City was no place to lower one’s guard, not even for a moment. Once, a shining city of beauty, wealth and culture, now it was a desolate ruin, haunted by monsters left over from the final wars between the Sorcerer Kings and other nameless horrors from that dark era…along with rival adventurers and expeditions which could sometimes be even worse. 

Peering around the corner, the elf maid saw a large, open square that had likely once been a marketplace. In the center was the remains of a once mighty statue, now reduced to two vast and trunkless legs of stone standing above an inscription, doubtless the name of the ancient king or hero once commemorated. 

But Zuakara was more interested in the figure lashed to one of the legs. She was a maiden, human, probably no more than 19 or 20 years of age as the mortals reckoned, and quite pretty, a youthful face framed by long, raven locks and a short, trim figure which was on full display as, besides the ropes binding her and the cloth muzzle covering her mouth the girl was completely naked. 

By the time Zuakara had arrived, the maiden had stopped crying out. She hung, slumped down in her ropes, looking miserable. The ranger paused, glancing around the empty buildings which ringed the market. This was, she was certain, a trap and the captive bait, intended to lure an unwary adventurer into the open square. But her keen eyes could detect nothing in the square itself, the lack of obvious danger making her more intent on finding it before she moved forward…

The quiet twanging of metal was the only warning Zuakara got as the trap was triggered. The dust of the road billowed up in a cloud as the net, stretched out to cover the road leading into the marketplace and covered by a thin layer of dirt, sprang up, enveloping the ranger. She tried to leap clear but was a moment too slow. She let out a cry as she found herself wrapped up in the woven cords and dragged off her feet…

***  

Nethtar grinned, watching as a half dozen of his goblins manhandled the elf ranger, towards the ruined inn where the warparty were keeping the prizes they’d captured. After being extracted from the net, the maiden had been stripped, bound, gagged and hooded, not that that hindered her frantic struggles too much. Eventually, she went in, to join the half dozen other adventurers that had fallen into their traps. 

Nearby, more goblins were laying out the net again, making sure to brush the dirt carefully over its cords, so no disturbance in the dirt road gave away the trap. Its placement, along with the other nets covering the other streets and alleys entering the marketplace, were working out well for them. All of the adventurers had, once lured to the square, paused at the entrance, reluctant to step out into the open and commit themselves to what they were sure was a trap, little suspecting they were already standing in it. And as for the bait…

Nethtar stepped over to the statue and the figure lashed to it. The first adventurer the goblins had captured, she’d proved an excellent lure, her loud squeals and moans attracting her fellows straight into the trap. She moaned miserably at the goblin’s approach, knowing what was coming, but helpless. 

“Let’s see if you can’t lure us one or two more, slave.” He said, hands going towards her naked body…