In Galeel Forest, two goblins were moving through the shrubbery, their clawed feet crunching over dead leaves and snapping twigs.
They grunted at each other in their crude language with disappointment clear in their harsh tones.
They had almost hit a caravan not too long ago… a fat merchant wagon loaded with goods and soft human flesh but they'd been knocked back by wind magic before they could close the distance.
If they'd had the full cavalry of goblins back at the nest available, it would have been easy pickings but the Shaman had kept most of the warriors close for defense, leaving only small hunting parties to patrol the forest.
The goblin on the left grumbled loudly, gesturing at the empty space where the caravan had escaped.
Its companion looked at it weirdly as if to say "what do you want me to do about it?"
The next instant, the complaining goblin exploded into blood.
