The man took the water eagerly, patting his girl on the head as she rested next to her father. “You girls be safe, I know the goblins have been getting dangerous... I can only imagine the horrors my wife might be going through. Please, help her.” He spoke as the group left the home, and began to venture forth. It did not take much time to approach where the man had spoke of, a group of mounds and cairns, roughly hewn entrances crafted for the various burial mounds. In the center one could see smoke rising and emanating light, no doubt bonfires. More alarming would be moving figures in the distance, rapidly approaching. As they came closer – one could see what they were from their uneven gait, the figures perched on their backs, and maintaining control of the worgs. Goblin wolf riders, each armed with a crude blade of sorts, lopsided and heavy on the front, but clearly made to chop and hack.<br/><br/>They stopped not far from the trees that the group was hiding around, one of the goblins raising a hand. Speaking in their guttural language, the group began to spread out, the worgs smelling the ground and air around them. A pair of riders began to approach the group, the goblins unaware, but the worgs more aware it seemed, a faint growl emanating from one.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">The group hasn't been completely found, but it seems that at least some of the worgs are aware of them.</div></div>