Gnarlock and his 1,000 personal soldiers were resting in the Barren Wasteland when their scouts failed to return.
"Where are Frogo and Hrenrick?" Gnarlock growled, his eyes scanning the horizon. "They should have been back by now."
"General, do you think they might have encountered something in the south?" one of his captains asked, concern evident in his voice.
Gnarlock inhaled deeply, the acrid air stinging his nostrils as he exhaled like a blast furnace. Towering over his soldiers, he commanded, "Prepare to march. Whatever lies in the south, we will crush it!"
~YeEeAarRgH!~
The Hobgoblins' battle cry shook the earth as they began their march southward, determined to obliterate any threat to their king's grand plans.
