The Bard looks up nervously.
"I've been trying to make sense of this map I found of the War's hunting and foraging grounds. The Three-Quarterling was pretty thorough in his research of it over time. I suppose he had to be, as this creature was his first line of defence against interlopers such as ourselves."
The long locked archer shrugs in response. He regretted the death of the half-halfling but it was too late to save him now.
Catching his other team-mates attention, Fortu, still wearing his dark, octopus adorned armour, heaves himself to his feet but is easily beaten to the table by the smaller and much more acrobatic Liga Bur.
With everyone listening, Rifkin continues with his warning.
"Initially, the War constrained itself to the zone marked nearest the secret garden path entrance but, over time, as it got bigger, it started to roam farther afield. The dates adjacent to each additional zone show that the War's about eight-years old and that its grown to nearly the size of a ferociously tusked horse!"
The battle-scarred Fortu tenses at the description. Wolves are one of nature's apex predators at regular size and, from their earlier run in, wild boars are no easy mark either. A combination of both, allowed to grow that large...
Unaware of his human companion's unspoken response, Rifkin carries on talking.
"In a way, we were lucky. The War's ranging zone has become so wide that it can't cover the entire area in one day. Unfortunately, although we inadvertently entered its territory via the shortest route, the 'Lightning tree' takes us pretty much the longest way out."
Looking up and around at the three adventurer's faces, Rifkin points back to the map.
"It's about twenty-five miles back the way we came but almost double that before we reach 'safety' if we travel North toward the tree. Our horses, despite their loads can travel about forty miles in a day but Mir Hundur here can only manage about thirty. If we travel South-ish, we can be out of the zone before nightfall. If we ride North, we'll probably have to camp amongst this ruined forest. Either way we're at risk encountering the War but we've no idea where the beast currently is and South probably halves the risk."
The stern faced Halfling; Liga Bur bites his tongue. Should he let the others know that, as they've been comfortably holed up here over a day, the monstrous creature's almost certainly caught their scent by now and is probably already, as they speak, tracking them down?
