Bloued and his pack stand in awe of the great mound, once home to the mighty Goblins, kindred of the old days. A sudden cold wind of foreboding sweeps through the glen, making all shiver despite the bright sun. thoughts of a dark nature sweep through those assembled here, but a summoning growl from Bloued turns the packs attention to the task at hand. "Be strong, my kindred and think not lightly on the task at hand, This quest may well shape the destiny of our kind and our allies, and we must look to its sucess! We must wait for the others to come and do this as an alliance. We must look to the Goblin for guidance to his ancestral home, and let his blood sing to him in order to find the gate". The pack settles down, thoughts go from wolf to wolf on what might lay in store for them as they wait.