Vakynur, Torun - St Kuthoy road, 28th Dyarr YT330
The wolf pack had been shadowing their move for some hours. Although the forest either side of the road was dense enough that they were rarely seen, everyone was tense. The pack was large enough to be dangerous if they attacked. Even if nothing worse was present. And the memory of what had happened to the merchants was still fresh. Voltarr was also thinking about his summons to the council. The wolves were distracting him. He needed peace to plan how he would investigate matters at Szutsavanica. When the boldest she-wolf got a few ells closer than before he sent out a bolt of flame that drove her back and set fire to a holly bush. The wolves seemed stung by the treatment of their pack member. Deep gutteral threatening sounds came from all sides. The group continued on. In spite of the season, the fire began to spread a little.
Then they spotted a figure hunched up in the road a bowshot ahead. As they got closer it appeared to be an old man. But when they pulled up in front of him, the old man began to rise. And as his limbs unfolded they realised that he was more than six ells tall. But even more striking than that, his limbs were thin and his fingers were like twisted spindles. His face was almost completely covered in a moss of beard. But two piercing eyes peered out and a voice that was equally penetrating spoke directly at Voltarr, berating him for his rash actions.
To placate the old man of the forest the comrades backtracked to the holly bush and extinguished the fire in and around it. This done he seemed more communicative. He spoke of others who threatened his forest. Others not of the Realm. Others to the west - the direction Voltarr and the others were headed. Olorin remembered the words of Thomäs Surka. The Leshonoi and Pokhoi although separated by many leagues were apparently both being troubled by similar causes.
