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Your journey northwards through the Moggador Forest is a long and tiring trek that is fraught with danger. Roving bands of Krorn and packs of savage timber wolves demand that you remain vigilant at all times, and as you venture deeper into their vast domain, you feel your sense of time gradually slipping away. Your only consolation on this long and lonely trek is that wild game is plentiful and you experience no shortage of food.
On the morning of your ninth day in the forest you notice that the grey pines are beginning to thin out and the ground is becoming dusty and sparsely vegetated. Soon you come upon a road constructed of broken stones which leaves the forest and disappears into a barren landscape of yellow sulphurous soil. You check your map and it confirms your suspicions: you have reached the foothills of the Nadulritzaga Mountains and are now less than twenty miles from the fortress of Torgar.
