The smoke was coming from a bonfire, where a horse's leg was roasting. We also saw the cooks — goblins, but it

The smoke was coming from a bonfire, where a horse's leg was roasting. We also saw the cooks — goblins, but it was too late to give chase. They were fleeing as fast as they could, clad in the clothes of a dead man — one wore a beret with a feather, another a velvet jacket. A third was clutching a coin pouch — equally useless for traveler or goblin in this backwater. Deciding not to pursue the goblins, we turned our attention to the body in the ditch.