Meanwhile, earlier this evening...
The panting of the wolf in the corner snapped the yellow-robed wizard out of his reverie. Golthar, looking out his tower window at the darkening sky, gave a grunt, then rose to his feet. He opened the door to his study, and the wolf, standing tall as a pony and white as snow, ambled past him out the door and down the stairs.
Golthar stood still, listening to the creature's clawed footfalls on the stone stairs. Every few days he would let the wolf out to hunt. It seemed to have developed a taste for goblin flesh. Lucky for him goblins were in no short supply here amongst the ruins of Xitaqa.
What did seem to be in short supply was his lieutenant, Vlack. The hobgoblin had surprised and impressed the wizard in rallying the goblins of the Dymrak Forest to his cause. Homesteads had been burned to the ground, and lumber camps destroyed. Settlers robbed, killed, and taken captive. His masters would be pleased, but only to a point.
For they hadn't found the map. And without it, the silver needle with the golden thread was useless. This whole endeavor was for nothing. Surely Vlack was responsible for this lack of progress. But where was he?
Shaking his head, Golthar threw himself with a sigh back into his chair, returning his attention to the spell book on his desk. Though his eyes moved across the page, his mind failed to comprehend.
It was no use. He couldn't concentrate. Not right now.
His reavers had set chains across the rivers. Their brainwashed bowmen had lined the banks. There should have been no interference from Kelven, or any of the towns and villages to the West. Could he have underestimated the might of those filthy peasant Traladaran homesteaders?
Closing his spell book, Golthar rose to his feet. "Time to have a little chat with our horse trader friend," he said, grabbing an iron key off the desk.
**
Night fell on Xitaqa as the goblins awoke from their slumbers. They crawled amongst the ruins, scrounging for food, hoping like the nine hells to avoid the notice of the white wolf. Then they heard it! Somewhere in the tower: the snorting of a bull, and the scream of the Traladaran horse trader.
Cut to: bank of the Volaga River, a few minutes past midnight...