Buffy is quite intrigued by goblins. Since they have big pointed ears like she does, and have quite a complex society, she wonders if they are not some form of cave mer? She's tried to make friends with them, but that can be quite tricky and dangerous. She doesn't pay much attention to loot since she's too weak to pick up much anyway, but it seems that goblin magey types can often drop pretty powerful staves.

Since you said this thread is about goblins, here is a snip from Episode 10.1 of Buffy's Journal where she encountered three of them guarding the entrance to a mine on the road to Skingrad:
* * *I coated three iron tipped broad head arrows with poison, laying two carefully at my feet and setting one to the nock.
Bow partially drawn, I studied the green targets beyond the tip of my arrow. Their pointed ears swept gracefully rearward, and were even larger than mine or Superian's. The farthest goblin produced a brown glass bottle from between two rocks, opened it against the crossguard of a sheathed blade and took a long pull. A second comrade extended both arms wide in a lazy stretch. Each hand ended with three fingers and a thumb, all capped with large black claws. Raising a yawning muzzle skyward displayed dagger-like teeth. The final member of the trio revealed himself to indeed be a he-goblin by lifting his crude loincloth and casting a yellow stream upon on the trunk of a tree.
If there was any doubt as to the danger posed by this motley crew, it was put to rest by the remains that marked the area. There was a variety of bones that appeared to be from men, mer and horse. A nearly complete skeleton of some hapless traveler wore the tattered shreds of a burgundy shirt.
The moment I loosed my arrow, I snuck two steps back down my rocky perch, breaking line of sight with the targets. I was rewarded by the sounds of a sharp screech and breaking glass. After a brief pause, I crept back up the rock to survey the results. One goblin was dead. The other two quickly gave up searching and returned to their posts.
Another poisoned arrow knocked the archer to the ground. The remaining guard's short sword sang from his scabbard as his beady eyes darted among the rocks, trees and brush that hid me. If he saw my third arrow coming, he did not have time to react before he joined his comrades in death.
* * *