You settle the horses and ensure that nothing else is amiss. The gnoll carried a spear and shield, and while the gnoll archer's quiver is nearly full of barbed arrows, the longbow is unfortunately broken. Both gnolls held a total of 39 silver and 9 gold coins. A quick glance of the leucrotta shows that it had no pockets or pouches affixed to its body.
Relocating to a suitable spot away from the smell, you spend the rest of the night in peace.
The next day, rising a touch later than normal to account for your rest, you set off for the white-haired goblin's village. The sun is blisteringly hot today, distorting your vision as heat waves swirl from the baked earth. Thankfully your waterskins are full... though you don't recall ever stopping for resupply, and Maenor has not cast his Create Water spell since your journey into the desert.
Your guide navigates the terrain, finding a path for the wagon through the jagged rocks, deep-cut valleys, and rising hills of sedimentary rock pushed up into the sky. You travel down a dry riverbed to a fork, when the white-haired goblin takes the path that switches back upstream. Walking for another 30 minutes, you come to a bend and goblin points his staff ahead.
A large mesa looms above you, though it looks no different from the hundreds you've seen before. "Welcome to our home," says the goblin. "Come. Someone must have already seen our approach."
Its words ring true as you progress closer. A small figure climbs onto a rock, not a goblin, but a male halfling. He is dressed in billowy robes the color of clay, and a similarly-hued turban tops his head with cloth hanging down the back and sides. He uses a shortbow as a staff, and a thin stalk of dry desert grass is chewed between his teeth. "Mornin' gents," he says, mouth breaking into a smile. "You seem a bit lost."