Not long after Damon departed, an organized group of goblins arrived, led by three war trolls. The goblins at the front were scouts and trackers, moving with practiced caution.
The scouts stepped over shrubs, reaching the small clearing, their bones sensitive to even the faintest changes in the air. As soon as they sniffed the air, they recoiled in disgust.
"Kekekeke! Tertetetete... stink... eeeeiiie!"
They screeched in irritation, their gnarled fingers pointing toward the tree line. The strong scent of perfume in the air overwhelmed their sensitive noses.
Some of the scouts turned their attention to the battlefield where their brethren had been slain. Their eyes darted over the bloodstains and battle scars left behind—yet there were no corpses. The bodies had vanished, leaving only the remnants of a struggle.
Realizing something was wrong, they quickly retreated to the three war trolls standing nearby to make their report.