"Wait!!!" Thorin bellowed out as he stepped past the others to the front of the group.
"Ahh, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. King under the Mountain." the Great Goblin king bowed over exaggeratedly at the dwarf, then looked up at him and sneered. "But I'm forgetting, that you don't [i]have[/i] a Mountain! And you're not a King, which makes you...well, nobody really." 
The goblins all sniggered at this comment and their king began to nod to himself, grinning viciously at Thorin. "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, hee hee," he cackled under his breath, "nothing attached! Perhaps you know of whom I speak; a Pale Orc, astride a White Warg."