### 340

'I bid you welcome, Northlander,' says the fur-clad stranger, taking you aback with his friendly tone, ''T'as been many moons since I've seen a welcome face in this godforsaken land. What beckons you here?'

You answer with caution in case he is trying to trick you, and simply reply that you are a hunter.

'A hunter, eh?' he says, smiling. 'Come, now. You be no hunter, least none like I know. And I should know seein' as I'm a hunter m'self.'

You use your Kai senses to assess this man's purpose and realize that he is speaking the truth. He really is a hunter and he intends you no harm.

'Very well,' you say, 'I admit I'm not a hunter, at least not in the way you think. I've come here to find out what is going on at the Maakengorge. I want to know why Vorn was destroyed and what is causing the storms. But what of your purpose, master hunter? What quarry is there here that's worth battling these accursed storms for?'

The hunter tells you that he has travelled all the way from Karkaste, in the realm of Lyris, to hunt for Black Corvayl. The fur of this beast is worth a small fortune in the markets of Casiorn and the Stornlands. He says the storms and the Vakovarian brigands have made things difficult for him; he has been in these mountains for more than a month now and has only two pelts to show for his trouble.

The hunter, whose name is Fyrad, invites you to join him at his camp in the hills. It will soon be dusk and the icy winds are getting colder, so you gladly accept his offer of food and warm shelter.

Turn to 175.

Text copyright © 1991 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1991 Brian Williams.