Brogan rode in silence beside her, lost in his own thoughts. Though together, the two seemed lost in separate solitudes.
On the eighteenth day of their journey, Belloc's company came in sight of a remnant of the Great Forest, and halted at its eaves, to pause for a meal, and to rest the horses. To his captains, Belloc said, not taking his eyes off the ancient gnarled pines, "It is said that in the ancient time before elf or dwarf or man set foot in these lands, that this forest covered the entire land of Morag, the Narrow Plain, the Wide Plains, and the South Plains. Some of that forest yet remains west of
Astargoth and Normandon, but what remains here just covers the northern border of old Morag, and quickly gives way to the Northern Wastes.
"In two days' time we will come upon a small, mirror-like lake, and the ruins of a building on a hill overlooking it. I warn you, the place is disquietingly watchful, and has an eerie, mystical look about it. Thick mists hang always in the aged, gnarled pines like wraiths, and round white boulders protrude from the grass growing at their feet like old bones."
"I know that place," the older of the two captains said. "The ruined building appears to have once been a mansion of sorts. Even unto this day, it is all overgrown with vines, and flowers grow where once there must have been gardens. But I do not like the look of its empty windows! To my eyes they appear watchful . . . vigilant . . . as though the owner may yet return to that place."