Free Into the Heart of Evil by Joel Babbitt Page B

Warrior Group, the members
of Durik’s Company each received a backpack full of the gear they would need to
survive in the wild and in the ancient places they were tasked to explore. 
Even Kiria, who had only now been added, received one.  Additionally, the
Patrol Guard provided the entire group with long knives and small hatchets,
strapped to the outside of their backpacks.  It was obvious to all that Kiria’s
pack had only recently been assembled, as the straps were hastily fastened and
the elite warrior who carried it had the harried look of one who had run far
and fast very recently. 
    When it was the Wolf Riders Warrior Group’s turn,
Raoros Fang was not about to be outdone.  From the entrance to the hall four
elite warriors entered, leading great black wolves, complete with saddles and
tack.  It was obvious from the sweat on one of the kobolds, and the wolf he
led, that the last one had been very recently fetched.  They were relatively
young wolves, recently released from the annual training cycle of the Wolf
Riders.  The first of them, and the largest, standing as high at the shoulder
as Durik’s shoulder and weighing more than four times as much as Durik, was an
animal Durik recognized from his time as an apprentice animal handler. 
    Unlike the others, who fretted nervously in the
presence of so many kobolds and so much noise, this wolf not only held his tail
high, but also seemed confident in his role as the prime wolf of the four. 
Firepaw was his name, both because of the red sheen the setting sun revealed in
his jet-black fur and because of his exceptional speed.  He was a noble beast
if ever Durik had seen one. 
    Durik now understood the sacrifice Raoros Fang had
made, for Firepaw was going to be Raoros’ new mount.  In a moment, Durik caught
Raoros’ eye.  The message of thanks that shone in Durik’s eyes was clear.  For
his part, Raoros looked frustrated, as if someone had disobeyed an order. 
Durik quickly looked away.
    Firepaw was given to Durik, the next two wolves to
Manebrow and Gorgon, and the recent addition was given to Kiria.  As Durik took
hold of Firepaw’s reins, Firepaw licked him on the nose and neck, nipping at
his pointed ears.  Durik rubbed the fur of his neck and snout, talking softly
to his new mount.  The old bond that Durik had formed with these wolves came
back to him and to the wolves as they met again in the council hall. 
Remembering the scent of one who had spent long days carefully and lovingly
training him, Firepaw bowed his head in obeisance and nuzzled against Durik’s
shoulder.
    Once the wolves and their new masters were briefly
acquainted or reacquainted, Raoros Fang beckoned to one of his elite warriors,
who fetched the sheep skin scroll that he was holding in his hand and handed it
to Durik.  “Durik, this map that I give you details the southern valley in
which we live.  Should you have to go there, it shows the part of the northern
valley you will have to travel through in order to get to the Hall of the
Mountain King.  Also shown is the route that my wolf outriders have used in the
past.”  Durik accepted it with thanks, eager to study it at the first
opportunity.
    The Honor Guard Warrior Group, last but certainly
not least, brought forth what appeared to be several wolf hides from the wolves
of the type the Bloodhand Orc Tribe usually employed as guard animals.  As the
two elite warriors held them up, the careful stitching and padded cloth lining
from the extensive tailoring job that the Honor Guard had done to them could be
seen.
    “Warm suits for the entire group, especially
useful in this cold southern climate when one is traveling at night,” Khazak
Mail Fist boomed.  “And,” he continued in a lower voice, “the mottled gray and
black fur of these skins is much better for hiding than red scales.”
    Durik held up his wolfskin suit. The legs of the
wolf had been sewn together to cover his arms and legs, and the tail had been
made