Night Goblins

Night Goblins infest the abandoned deeps of the World's Edge Mountains, squatting in halls that dwarfs died defending, their mushroom farms sprawling where treasuries used to be. They fear the open sky, swaddle themselves in black hoods and robes, and paint the leering face of the Bad Moon on every shield and banner. What they lack in courage, which is nearly everything, they make up in numbers, spite, and fungus-brewed madness.

The terror of a night goblin mob is never the mob itself but what it is hiding. At the enemy's approach the ranks convulse and disgorge fanatics: goblins fed on madcap mushrooms until fear and sanity dissolve, spinning iron balls twice their own weight through friend and foe alike. The survivors on both sides agree it is the worst thing they have ever seen. The night goblins consider this a compliment.