The Year of Our Lord 1521, on the 15th day of Sun's Providence, shortly after noon.
Ten miles south of the official border of the Dark Forest.
The company had come to a halt beneath the cool shade of a group of deciduous trees that stood near a small pond. They were fast approaching the Dark Forest, the home of the wood elves. There were nine of them in total -- four humans, two elves, a half-breed, a bison and a direwolf. It had been seven days since the motley crew had set out north from Woodhaven. That town was named so for the timber trade that made it prosperous; in times long past, Woodhaven had once been settled beneath the canopy of the Dark Forest itself. These days, however, the edge of the Forest was more than a hundred miles away.
Truth be told, the going had been slower than Thaddeus would have liked. The Watchful Man put his hands on his hips and took a deep breath, taking stock of the environment around them. They were finally entering the true woodlands that heralded the edge of the Dark Forest, but the Forest was vast and its borders hazy. Like a large, lazy creature, the Forest's tendrils extended for more than a dozen miles in any direction before fading away. There was no thick, impenetrable canopy above their heads just yet, and Thaddeus turned his head to enjoy the sun's warmth once more. Once they entered the Forest proper, they would likely not see direct sunlight for a while.
A rumbling in his stomach brought his attention back to the here-and-now. Not for the first time since they'd started their journey, Thaddeus looked at Warwick's bison and images of a perfectly-roasted steak flashed through his mind. He put the thought out of his head and looked around for Gryffyth Wolfsblood instead. Thaddeus was trusting the wood elf to help guide their way through the Dark Forest beyond this point, but the group also relied on his prodigious hunting skills to find food. Thaddeus wasn't a shabby archer himself and he knew how to track animals, but it was a poor imitation of the almost frightening abilities of the elf. It also helped that he had a direwolf the size of a pony.
They were all here for their own reasons. Thaddeus, the founder and leader of the expedition, was here simply to fulfill his duties as a Watchful Man. Some of the others, like James Porter, were here out of a desire for adventure, or to sate their curiosity. Warwick, the bison herder, had personal reasons to have a stake in this expedition. What the southern elf, Peren, was doing here, Thaddeus still wasn't sure of, but he wasn't about to turn down a helping hand attached to someone as well-connected as the trader. Tina, the female thief, amused Thaddeus. He had the feeling she had come with him because she was bored. Thaddeus believed Miri, the half-elf, and the clan she belonged to could be a great boon as well, but she was so intensely private it was hard to tell.
Thaddeus found Gryffyth and his direwolf by the edge of the pond, where the two were taking grateful gulps of cool, clear water. The rest of the party was taking the opportunity to sit down and relax, some against the bark of the trees, others on their backs in the grass. Thaddeus could hear them talk amongst themselves. The ranger approached the hunter and cleared his throat to get the elf's attention. Before Gryffyth could speak -- and there was no doubt in Thaddeus' mind that he'd immediately have another one of his endless questions ready -- Thaddeus said: "It's hunting time, Gryff. Should be some good game around here. Before you leave, though, I have a question for you this time. If my estimates are correct, we're less than another day's march from the real edge of the forest. I haven't been this far north in a long time. When can we expect to start running into... well, I don't know what you'd call them? Those big cats." Thaddeus pointed to the fang-dagger at the elf's waist. The direwolf, Lwyci, growled, but Thaddeus ignored him. He knew that Gryff wouldn't let the animal attack him.