He had seen Rasterok a while ago, but he had kept silent and in the shadows. He had trifled with many moblins in the past, but never a tribe of them and their leader did seem somewhat harsh.

The procession had passed him a while ago, all piece by piece. The Bulbo had been interesting. He had considered briefly throwing his blade in their direction and inciting them to stampede, but then he would be in a dangerous area without a weapon and this was not an idea he was too fond of. He had let them pass without a word.

As the back of the progression came into view Giro had his first look at Rasterok. This was likely a creature he could liberate, if only because the back end of the group was so far behind the front. They were too close right now, but an opening might become available soon. Quietly, but not silently, Giro crept from his hiding place towards the back of the group, then moved quickly into the shade of a tree. He was not spotted, though likely heard. Still no one came.

His blade was drawn and held lax. At this time of day the fading sun might send them the reflection from the steel and that would give him away. Briefly, Giro wished to have his bow from his army days, then gave it up as gone. He crept forwards again, more quietly this time.

He heard Morpen's speech at the cave and waited for the leader to go out of sight. When the dragon was beginning to enter the cave the back group would be vulnerable and without aid. After that likely the Dragon himself would do the rest.

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I'll let you die with pride...