In the goblin camp Strutto strained his eyes looking out to the dark desert and the tree line just visible to his right, trying to see something – anything – in the darkness.
The glare of the many fires his troop had lit around the camp made it hard to see into the thickening darkness around, and yellow flames reflected golden on the metal of his armour as he paraded. Where are those three fools? Had the desert sands swallowed them? He walked a bit closer to one of the campfires, and the goblin warriors gathered around it regarded him with looks of mixed fear, respect and hate. Just the way he liked it. The night was approaching fast, but something stirred his senses. Was that a sound of approaching riders? His eyes dilated. Someone was approaching their camp – and fast. He drew his sabre and screamed to rally his soldiers. Maybe now he would have a chance to prove himself.