You wake wrapped in furs laying in the snow, the sounds and smells of the camp fill your senses. Harsh hobgoblin officers outside bark orders at your kin, scavenging parties are being formed. Last night the scouts said the humans fled the mountain town ahead, there will be no fight but much to plunder. You stretch, pull on your scraps of armour and step out of the tent. Fellow goblins and kobolds move in all directions, most managing to dodge the swift-hitting boots of the officers. A hobgoblin looks to you and your companions, “Slogskut has a job for you, go to the mess tent now!”
You make your way to where Slogskut is preparing morning slop. The smell is staggering, but no worse than any other slop you’ve eaten. Slogskut is impatient, “Naw” (General Grocknaw) got his hands on some cake from the scouts and he demands more. Slogskut has never made cake before, but he’s not about to tell Naw that. That’s where you come in, “Search the human town for cake, if you do not find it, keep going. Don’t come back without cake or Naw will probably kill us both.”
Time to find some cake.