A Transformation

The wolf tracks are so numerous they obliterate any other sign, ringing town they gather together and, from just outside bow shot of the gate, head north. Skirting the Midgewater Marshes they head along the Weather Hills. All along the trail are littered the corpses of anything the huge pack crossed in its march north; Goblins from the marshes, spiders from the hills, boars, bears and even a few smaller wolves. All have been feasted on.
As the pack crosses the Midgewater pass its numbers seem to swell. A giant pack of more than 100 wolves now, and possibly wargs, drives straight north, clinging to the foothills, skirting the Chetwood. Several small farms and cabins along the path are abandoned and a few even burned. Survivors talk of a fearsome wolf-person striding along at the head of a hellish pack of wolves and giant wargs, killing anything that dares stand in its path.
The pack travels with enormous speed, moving faster than even the mightiest steed and pausing for nothing. The southern shores of Nen Harn seem to be its first stopping point. Huge warrens, enormous caverns excavated by hundreds of clawed feet and powerful legs, dot the landscape. The empty shells of dozens of the lakes giant turtles lie scattered about as, in the distance, a haze marks the packs movement along the narrow strip of land between the lake and the hill.
Known to few, mostly elves, the refuge of Lin Gilliath lies directly in the packs path at the north end of the lake...