Scog, a tough bastard of a goblin who also happened to have been in charge of this current debacle, lay low in the shadow of a pine and observed the party in front of the burning shack. He had not been told much about these people, but had never expected them to be this dangerous. The giant had been a particulary nasty surprise. His warriors had all died or run off, but Scog was damned if he wouldn't get back at these bastards before retreated himself. He just needed a window, an oppertunity...

...and there it was. They had all turned around now, staring sheepishly at the female in their midst. Scog didn't know why she had been tied up, but he didn't care. They were distracted, and that was all that mattered. He reached for his quiver and produced an arrow, dipped in a very nasty rare poison extracted from a seclusive breed of mountain basilisk, and took aim. He was a skilled bowman, Scog. For a goblin.

The arrow left the string with a faint twang and sailed through the dark night sky. Before any of the heroes could notice it, it struck Martox in the back, piercing his heart. He stood there for a moment, looking with unbelieving eyes at his comrades, before falling to his knees. Black, stingy smoke started hissing from the wound. 

Scog stared silently from his hiding place under the pine. A direct hit. The human wouldn't be long. Now all he needed was to get out of her-

SNAP

A twig, half buried in the snow but still dry and crisp cracked audibly under his feet. He looked back towards the burning cabin in panic to see if anyone had heard him.