Daniel
All was silent in the Taemarian woods, dawn's pink fingers were starting to stretch in the sky to push the night away, yet the light of the sun was still too weak to reach the ground, stopped by thousands of trees. Few were the birds who began bringing music to that cold morning, but in the waking forest, one figure was already making its way through the vegetation. The heavy steps were muffled by the carpet of dead leaves and moss. The huge silhouette was not an unusual sight for the inhabitants of the forests, but this time, it wasn't hooded as always. The strong lineaments of the orc were perfectly visible.

Stern was a young orc in his 30s, his black hair and beard gave a perfect description of their owner: dirty, uncured and stained by blood. The most prominent feats of the male's face were the two huge and sharp tusks that poked out of the or's lips, a sign that confirmed the absence of human blood in his veins. The deep hazel eyes of the hunter were scanning the surroundings in search of tracks or signs of a possible prey's passage.

As his pointy ears twitched, he stopped moving. His senses focusing on a possible animal scent. Many of the people of his adoptive family used to say that Stern's acute senses were far superior to the ones of men, but the orc didn't take too much pride in it. For him, his natural skills were not worth praising. He honestly believed that the skills one can develop through practice and talent were the true factors to take notice of.

The male's head darted to face the cause of the snapping of a twig. A young hare was trying to hide in the bushes, its terrified gaze met the orc's, who kneeled slowly. "You wouldn't be a filling meal... I'll leave you to someone smaller than me..." He chuckled before stomping his foot on the ground to scare the animal away, then returned to his march. His true goal was to reach the capital of the kingdom as the young explorer told him to.

After putting his hood back on his head, he stretched his back in a symphony of cracks, then began climbing up the biggest tree he found. Looking at the horizon he managed to spot the smoke coming from the chimneys of the closest village. The plan was to pass by it with the cover of the night and follow the road until he would have found the biggest settlement.

Yes it was a simple plan, no he did not have a better one

The orc dropped down the tree with ease, absorbing the impact with his legs, emitting a loud thud. His agility was the result of years spent in the woods, running from and after the dangerous beast that roamed the wilderness and adapting to different situations, from climbing a rock formation to swimming through a strong river to hunt for the meaty fishes that in spring left the lakes to reach the sea. The orc's body was truly the prime example of his specie. What Stern did not have was the mettle for more diplomatic encounters... His life in the woods made him understand beasts better than people, which in the Middlelands was more of a flaw than a useful skill. Every time that in his teen years he asked his family about the people of the civilized world he received the same answer "Would you trust a bow with a thin cord?". There was wisdom in that rhetorical question. 
Those were his thoughts as the forest's trees began to be shorter and shorter, an evident sign of mankind trying to tame the strong and stubborn forces of nature.

He stopped walking as he saw the path he was following getting dramatically wider, like an open wound in the green body of the forest. His instinct told him to walk away from it, then after having gotten out of possible eyesight, he began walking in its same direction, basically marching on a hidden twin of the man made road.

He thanked his instinct when his ears twitched at the sound of voices. He tried to identify the strangers by smelling the air. He could sense the smell of a horse and sweat. Curiosity drove him to crouch and slowly get closer.

By what he heard, the man and woman were travellers trying to reach the closest village before dusk. The last pieces of information made the orc curse the simplicity of his plan. Apparently the roads were being currently patrolled by guards to counter the recent bandit activity, meaning that at least at a certain point he would have had to face the soldiers in order to cross a bridge. There were no other options, especially because the guards demanded a taxation to cross the bridge, so even if disguised, Stern would have had to interact with them... He snuck away, groaning in frustration when he found himself alone.
Dustin
Simon had been traveling as long as he could remember. Who would've thought that a life on the run meant constant walking. But he didn't mind—he had always liked nature, was fascinated by the growth of trees and the flow of rivers. People, too, he liked, though (more often than not) had a hard time relating to. So many people were content with themselves, with settling where they were born and having children and letting the world exist around them, for good or bad. Simon... Could never just let the world be. He was in constant need of change. This is why he walked.

As he walked, he worked on carving a totem out of a hickory stick he'd found a few towns back. It was nearly finished; the shape of a stylized bird, wings closed, beak sharp. He could probably get away with telling some old woman it would protect her from spirits, earn himself a few coins to make it to the next village. Similar totems hung from his pack; bears, eagles, fish, along with strings of bright feathers he'd found along the road. Inside the pack were poultices, homespun bandages, and (in one carefully packed jar) fermenting berries—just in case there were no old folks to trick. Everyone was interested in spirits, especially from strange, mystic travelers with friendly faces and sharp eyes. Speaking of berries, Simon was hungry. He paused on the road, looked up. It was getting dark, too. He'd make camp. 

He put his knife and the totem away, replacing them with his long walking stick, which he used to beat a path off the road into the undergrowth. He found as clear a place as he was going to, flattened out the brush a little, and settled onto the ground in a cross-legged position. He took a small jar from his pack and shook it until it emitted a pale blue glow, then found a bag of provisions. Measly, but, he figured, optimistically, better than nothing. Still, he'd better find a town, soon, or he'd have to start eating his totems. He settled into his little woodland camp, contemplating, and after a while took his whittling out again and began to hum to himself as he carved.
Daniel
As the orc was sitting on a rock, meditating about his options, his nose revealed the presence of someone less than 200 meters away from him. A new idea began forming into the greenskin's head... Using a traveller and their knowledge about the surroundings to bypass the bridge and safely reaching the capital. After an instinctive nod, the orc covered his face with his old, heavy scarf and slowly found his way through the vegetation, using the shadows of the late evening to his advantage. 
Unlike humans, his eyes were perfectly able to see in the dark thanks to them becoming extremely sensitive to light. His steps were slow and carefully placed, in contrast to his usual way of putting all of his weight on each step. He was less than 50 meters away from the man and decided to hide patiently behind the thick fronds of some bushes. Even if seen from an unaware person, the orc would have been just another shadow in the night. He observed the man carving the wooden totem, which reminded him of when his adoptive father taught him how to carve animals from useless pieces of wood.
Dustin
Surviving thirty years in a world like this doing the things Simon did meant it didn't take long for him to realize someone was watching him. Of course, it took longer to decide whether that was a problem or not. 

After a good quarter of an hour, he felt eyes on him from the woods. Could be nothing. Birds, wolves, rabbits. He wasn't too concerned, continuing on carving the last details into the bird without even glancing around. It was even a good opportunity to try to practice some magic. He concentrated on focusing his energy out into the perimeter of the camp, trying to feel for life with his aura... But, of course, nothing happened, except what he suspected were the beginnings of a headache. He went back to standard reconnaissance protocol: listening really hard and acting casual. He heard the general ambient sounds of the forest just before nightfall. Nothing out of the ordinary, except, those eyes... He still felt them watching him. 

At last, Simon gave the bird one more once-over and set it on his lap, still holding the knife casually. Then, he announced, "If you were worried about interrupting my work, I'm finished now. You can come out." He didn't truly expect much. At worst, he was talking to a squirrel. At best, he'd scare away a low-grade highwayman looking for a quick target.
Daniel
Stern's lips formed into a smirk under the grey wool of the scarf. Hunting stags was about silence and fast movements, yet hunting a boar was about fast reflexes and phisical prowess, definitely more enjoyable. His hand slowly moved to his dagger, a blade that a man would have called a pointy cleaver. 
Hiding was pointless at that point, so he exited his hiding spot, resembling a rock that just decided to stand and move forward. His deep and inhuman voice resonated through the trees "I'm surprised you took so long to notice me..." The orc chuckled. His skin was hidden, preventing an eventual chase after a terrorized man. What he couldn't hide was his own gargantuan figure, which in his case would have worked wonders to intimidate the average peasant. "Let us find a way to solve this in a way that will keep you alive."
Dustin
Oh, shit, was Simon's first instinctual thought when the figure stepped out of the undergrowth, I am going to Die. And surely that thought was painted across his face, which turned white as a sheet. He certainly hadn't expected anyone to come out of the woods, let alone something like... This person. Person? 

But Simon was a pragmatist. He forced down his shock and horror, and the look of blanched fear turned to one of calculation, gears turning almost audibly in his head as he summed up his situation and tried to form a strategy. Big, clearly hostile, but had some sort of problem that required them to approach Simon for... Something. Hopefully that something wasn't eating him alive—hopefully, if it came to that, the fellow would at least have the courtesy to eat him dead. 

Time was running out. He had to say something, quickly. Something that would convince the man he was worth not crushing underfoot. Not that Simon would go without a fight... It'd just be easier to do that with all his bones initially in tact. No, this battle, if it came to that, would have to be won through cunning. Cleverness. 

"Well you're awfully big," Was what blurted out of his mouth. He winced at himself—yes, Simon, very cunning, very clever of you. "What I mean is," He amended, eyes constantly flicking around, constantly assessing and reassessing the situation, strategizing and restrategizing. "I'd quite like to keep myself alive, as well. I've grown attached to my body, over the years. I'd hate for it to become unattached to me."
Daniel
The orc answered the incredibly detailed comment about his size by making his dagger turn in his hand from a hammer grip to an ice pick one. He studied the man's expression with his usual instense gaze. He didn't want to kill a weaker opponent, nor he wanted to simply back away. He needed that person alive and that was the most important thing, yet he did not trust the stranger, due to the many times his people told him about the ones who use words like a snake uses its fangs. 
"I want you to show me the way to the capital of this land without having to be stopped by guards or people. Help me and you will live. Make your choice quickly." His words were comparable to the cold peaks of the cold north: harsh and direct, impossible to be mitigated. Stern knew that asking for a guide would have required him to put all of his attention on the man in front of him to prevent being stabbed in the back. It was a risk the orc was not afraid to take.
Dustin
Simon did not, never had, and never would appreciate having a knife of that size trained on him. He considered his options, and decided, first, to pointedly and slowly drop his own knife (puny compared to this person's, hardly a toothpick) in the brush by his pack. He raised his hands, but only halfway, and subtly made sure his staff was still where he remembered it was. Just in case. While he did all this (quickly, as per requested), he thought on his assailant's words. Wanted a guide, he had said, but in the way that Simon was almost certain meant Needed a guide. 

That, he could work with. 

"Sounds—forgive me saying this—but sounds like you're a little desperate for a guide, big fellow. I do know a way, just so happens you're in luck. But what would happen to you, I wonder," He said, proud that he managed to keep his words slow and even, despite his heart pounding out of his chest, "If I didn't show you that way?" 

Simon was being bold. A little reckless, even, but he couldn't very well just let this big, scary person follow him through the wilderness without some sort of assurance that the guy couldn't up and decide to be rid of him. If Simon knew such a way—which he did, as a matter of fact, wouldn't be a very good fugitive if he didn't—that was one more reason this... Thing couldn't kill him. At least, not without doing himself a disservice. It was all about collateral.
Daniel
Stern emitted a chuckle as he removed both hood and scarf from his head and revealing his face. The pair of tusks, the pointy ears and the animalistic shape of the nose showed the inhuman origins of the orc. His green skin topped all of that in a devastating way. "Then the next people I'll meet will help me... Or they will join you in the land of the dead." His eyes were studying every movement of the man. His muscles were ready to release their energy at the first sign of aggression by the stranger. " Stern was expecting the man to start running in pure terror. If That would have occurred, his throwing axe skills were yet to be bested.
Dustin
Alright, so plan one had failed miserably on account of the assailant being some kind of creature from the abyss. Simon had to try very hard not to throw up. Luckily, he hadn't eaten much the last few days. Instinctively, his eyes flicked to his staff, but just as quickly went back to the beast's. No time for that. Wouldn't work, anyway. He'd talked himself here, so now he had to talk himself out. Or, you know, die horribly. Dealer's choice. 

"You sure are ugly," His brain, for Some Reason, allowed him to say. He hurriedly went on, "But, fine. For my own interests, I'll. I'll help you. You can put the knife away now, I'm always a man of my word." Now, whether those words were on His side was another thing. Also, he was not always a man of his word, but in this case—the alternative being brutal death-by-blade—he was willing to make an exception.