It glanced back and shrieked, "Just you wait, Elves! This forest will be ours sooner or later!"
Having delivered its threat, it plunged head-first into the deeper shadows of the woods and fled disgracefully, not once looking back.
Ithilien didn't give chase. She quickly finished off the remaining goblin minions, but her brow furrowed slightly.
The Shaman's parting words and the look in its eyes left her feeling uneasy.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before the wind in the forest subtly changed direction.
A thin, pale purple mist, like an ominous shroud, began to slowly spread from the direction the goblin Shaman had fled.
The familiar, rancid stench began to waft through the air, even stronger than before.
"A plague wind... and it's stronger." Ithilien's expression darkened.
The negotiations hadn't just failed; the goblins had no intention of retreating.
"Fall back! Retreat to the Forest Field's defensive line!"
