The goblins watched on in astonishment as a mere man fought off the ferocious drake their clan had failed to oust from the pass for years. After he had ran off, the mists covered him up again, it is well known that the grey pass is a mystical region, perhaps it was rewarding him for fighting so valiantly. The drake, still reeling from it's suppers violent retaliation, crawled towards Baldr and began feasting. Kraq and his guard began making their descent down the mountain to the beast, who had become an uneasy ally to the goblins, defending their borders for them but also devouring their patrols every now and then. The wyrm was also very strict about numbers, it did not allow the goblin clan to reach over a certain number, fearing it would be slain through strength of numbers should the clan grow too big. Either way, there was an evidently skilled warrior somewhere in their pass, who would no doubt spread word of both the goblins and the drake should he escape; should this happen the goblins believed that a great elven warrior would come and slay them, as is the prophecy imposed upon them by Kraq.
"Great drake, Comarathis, are you injured" enquired Kraq with an unfortunate hint of sarcasm slipping through.
"No" Whispered Comarathis as he lashed out and dragged a goblin into his jaws "I see you brought your thugs to watch the battle, yet why have none of them scattered to catch our escapee?"
"We wished to see to our lord first!" Cried Kraq
"Ha, i know what you call yourself: 'Kraq the conqueror', 'Kraq the tamer of beasts'. You conquered nothing and you tamed nothing, I am the lord of the pass, now do as i command and find the rohirrm, by any means necessary! But first..." Camarthis held up his injured claw. He and Kraq headed over to one side, took a 'volunteer', a scrawny looking goblin at the back of the pack, and proceeded to perform some sort of dark magic on it, sacrificing the goblin to heal the drake of all it's injuries.
"Kraq is a mighty shaman and a great power to the dark lord" Grunted the fierce blackshield to Sulvan. "You, southener, you are not, are you? I suspect you to be little more than a bug, no great messenger like my lord claims you to be!" He bagan to unsheath his sword and pointed the crude, harsh, oversized cleaver at Sulvan. "We find the rohan man, once we done, i sort you out. Anything happen to my men, your head on the block, same as your 'friends'." The rest of the goblins scattered, and began hurrying all around the pass looking madly for the rohirrim. The drake soon regained his strength and too joined in the hunt.
Meanwhile, Kaldor and Dwalvyn had been left unguarded, however Kaldor could not break from his shackles, he simply lacked the tools or strength. After a few hours of wrestiling with them he gave up, resigned himself to wait for aid. 'Im sure Albaron will return sooner or later.' he thought, unknowing why his friend had been taken in the first place. He began whistling an old tune he was taught a long time ago by a fellow merchant guard, one, if he remembered correctly, hailed from the land of the horse lords. He claimed to be of some importance there, a marshall of the riddermark or something. Either way the tune was stuck in his head and he continued to whistle and hum the various tunes his friend had taught him.
Elsewhere in the valley a sound reached Aethelwulf, one that reminded him of home. It was the tune of edoras, although it was majorly incorrect and performed very poorly. Nonetheless it was that tune. Without knowing it, Kaldor's whistling had travelled out their prison window into the valley, where Aethelwulf stood. Only a few guards would stand inbetween Aethelwulf and the dwarves, all of whom were stationed within the rocks fortress carved into one of the mountainsides, as most of the goblins were out hunting for him.