Hermes seemed sad that he couldn’t tell me much of anything since the elves mostly kept to themselves and their work despite the fact that they did just visit the ice giants a month ago. He told me that the elves work for the Tagalongs and unsurprisingly he told me that he was not the White Ghost.
In his recent trip he said that did discover that Commander Zan did not trust King Runetracer because of who the Misfit work for.
With time running short I thanked the elves and quickly headed back out of the Lost Forest. The trail of Wumboo tracks was still fresh and easy to follow but already I could see the forest growing over it. The trail will be lost before I ever return to Tarandus.
This brings me to my present situation. I was attacked by the White Ghost again. Only this time the White Ghost was chased off by someone else.
When he attacked the White ghost was carrying a large sack on his back. Without a word he put it down and then began to throw trolls at us with both hands. I am not sure what the trolls were supposed to do because the little guys seemed as surprised as I was. Still it did catch us off guard.
Then as quickly as he appeared he ran off. As I stumbled over trolls in an attempt to pursue someone else attacked us. From the other side of us a wave of cold and ice washed throughout group freezing our feet along with the trolls in place. The ice began to creep up our legs.
“So the White Ghost does not work alone!” the stranger said. He wore no mask but he had a grey cloak the color of a calm winter sky just as it begins to quietly snow.
“The White Ghost just attacked me,” I struggled to reply against the burning cold.
“Don’t try your games, which one of you is the White Ghost? The Winter Wizard demands an answer,” the Winter Wizard asked trying to make sense of the pile of trolls, horse, cart and me all frozen together in one very unpretty heap.
I quickly explained to him through stuttering teeth that I was a ranger and I told him about my mission as the ice continued to grow tighter and colder around me.
“If you’re a ranger,” he said, “then prove yourself by answering a question that any half-decent ranger should be able to answer.
“If I soar on the winds through the long cold night,
I will lie down to take a rest at first light,
then come noon and the warm rising sun
the very last thing that I do is to run.
“What am I?”