It wasn’t a particularly pleasant sight, and that was a vast understatement. Across the table from where Rhyvan sat was a man so large that the chair beneath him creaked in protest at every slight movement. It was not his enormity that was the problem, for it would indeed be quite rude to judge a man for the size of his waistline. No, there was much more to this man that made him one of the most undesirable creatures this side of Bree.

Duzir greeted Zairaphel when the women returned from the Baths of Ilmai Iforikh, and switching to Adûnaic said, “Azrazôr is in the library, pretending to read a book. He can barely contain his impatience.” 

Naraal let himself drift in the dream world. She was looking appreciatively at him, as she held a piece of the armour Tazakr had found. Then she was running away through the deep snow towards the edge of a cliff. He gave chase. But he was only wearing one of his Umbari tunics and his feet were bare. It was freezing. Then, thankfully, she halted. Something large and dark had climbed up the cliff, and now stood beside her…protectively.