Joyce
Stern Logarsh, road to Gorangrad

It was a clear morning, very few clouds in the sky of the Witherlands, an atmosphere which definitely made the cold much more bearable.
The thuds of hooves in the soft snow kept silence away, something very much appreciated by the hulking hooded figure riding the cart. The strong horse was calmly following the road, leaving little to do to the man in white. His eyes moved regularly from the road to the book he was holding in a big, green hand. Words of knowledge written on the old paper, knowledge as vital as the strength to put it to work. Stern sighed and closed his copy of De Metamorfosis Et Monstrum, the book Vigi granted him to study during his first mission as a knight of the Order. Knight... A rank he reached after many seasons... And yet it felt fairly similar to the role of Squire... The hunter put the book away and straightened his back. He could see the smoke of the chimneys at the village as the cart got closer to its destination. 
Time to meet the village's Elder...
George
Tanyth Carven, road to Gorangrad

The morning brought with it further walking, a shifter in some no-name town murdering people. Perfect job for a mercenary, a whole village could pay a pretty penny. Peasants on the walk moved away from her, staring at the massive woman in her black leather bodysuit with iron scale reinforcement. Her helmet was styled like the skull of a demon, sharp brass teeth and an iron skull motif. She cut an imposing figure, especially with the blood red hooded cloak she wore, which was fastened around her shoulders by a clasp in the standard shape of an officer's insignia.

When she reached the town, the isignia had peasants pointing her toward the village elder rather quickly. She wondered how many foolish 'adventurers' would be here... Utter morons with stars in their eyes and no brains in their skulls. She'd have to lowball her usual rate, irritating but then she didn't really need the money, it was just the principle of the thing.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, village of Gorangrad

Stern was standing with his arms crossed in the middle of the town hall, his white hood and robes were in complete contrast with the dark candle-lit room. In front of him a visibly scared man was reading a letter. 
Stern eyed the people who were staring at him from under the hood and sighed. He was starting to get used to it... Only starting.
The village Elder handed him the letter back, shakingly. 
"Knight... Logarsh... It... It's a pleasure to have you here..."

The man was seriously struggling to concieve the idea that a monster the size of a man atop of a horse was a respected member of the White Roses, but he was rather happy to know that he was now working for him.
Stern took the letter and nodded in response. "I shall make my preparations. We will meet once my work will be over."
His growly voice sent shivers down the spines of all the people in the town hall, which immediately relaxed once the greenskin exited the room.
George
Tanyth Carven, village of gorangrad

She'd been on her way to the town hall when she saw him, the massive orc wearing the robes of the white roses. "Great... These idiots," She grumbled as she made her approach. Religious types irked her, with all that happened in this world how could they believe in some cosmic force of good? It was naive, and naive people shouldn't be hunting monsters. She approached the white robed man and pulled back her cowl to reveal the skeletal helmet she wore, her dark brown eyes glowering from inside it. "Oi, white rose, hand over the contract and go back to your temple. Hunting a shifter ain't the job for a priest," She growled, holding out her hand. The gauntlets she wore were clawed, giving her a demonic look, in her other hand she gripped a sheathed greatsword about six feet long and a half foot wide. People were looking fearfully at the both of them. "Or you can pay me to keep you alive while you try to pray the monster into submission."
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, village of gorangrad.

The hunter glared at the rather shorter woman, stepping closer to her. "Do not tell a hunter what to do... Especially one Like me. People like you keep their honor under the sole of your boots. Get out of my sight at once."
The greenskin snarled, his lips revealing more of his pointy teeth. He did not carry weapons with him before reporting to autorities, as those were the ways of the Order, yet his clenched fists seemed fairly dangerous. 
His robes weren't even able to hide His statuary and gargantuan body, muscles ready to snap into action like a predator before sinking its teeth into its prey.
George
The woman scoffed and lowered her hand, "Honor is for fools and the dying. I've been hunting monsters and men for thirteen years, so I'll be wherever the beast is." She looked over the massive creature, took a deep breath, and straightened her posture. She placed her sword tip down on the ground and rested her hands on the pommel, she could hear her old commander danding she remember her social training. "My apologies, I was rude," She said calmly though it sounded mechanical, "What I meant to say was I'd like to help you kill the shifter. Whatever you can pay is fine; food, valuables, I'll even accept just taking valuable materials off our Quarry. I know some collectors that'd like to have the eyes of a shape shifter."
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, Village of Gorangrad

Stern shook his head and began walking away "Greed is meaningless, fool is the warrior who follows gold without purpose.". Thirteen years... How ironic.
The greenskin reached his cart, starting to unpack his things. He began putting on his gauntlets, knee and shin pieces of armor. His life in the wild had taught him about limitating weight on his body to improve agility and having a basic armor was much better than having to climb with a plate one. He attached his bag of items to his belt and grabbed his spear, starting to walk out of the village to find possible witnesses as explained by the Elder. 
There was no time to waste in talking with mercenaries.
George
The mercenary laughed a little and laid her sword across her shoulders as she followed after him. "I don't do things out of greed, if I did wouldn't accept alternative payment." She said flatly, after a little walking she spoke up again. "You got silver on ya? Best way to find a shifter is to make anyone you meet hold something silver, since it burns them. They can't shift if silver is touching them either, got any silver chain holy man?"

Despite her confidence she was at least careful, and was walking well out of the orc's reach. She had no interest in being too close to react if the large male tried anything.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, village of Gorangrad

The greenskin sighed, walking past the mercenary. His whole gear had been specifically designed to counter shifters and he couldn't help but find the presence of that warrior extremely irritating. 
His next stop would have been an abandoned shack which was located not so far from the village. A brilliant hiding spot... Yet his time spent studying shifters had already made him understand that his foe was not a simple minded beast. The hunter followed a path indicated by the intel gathered at the town hall. 
The path was old, cut in some parts by fallen trees or unclear due to lack of maintenance, yet Stern found no issue in following it. In his past he was the one creating his own paths to hunt or gather vital resources for his Clan... The vegetation seemed to become more dense as he kept marching. His eyes once again scanning the area meticolously. 
He loved the familiar smell of wood... It was definitely better than the cold stone of the Bulwark. 
The only problem was the annoying presence off the sellsword following him.
George
Tanyth Carven, village of Gorangrad.

She hadn't spoken since they'd enter the forest, and now the sheath of her greatsword was slung over her shoulder to leave her hands free. One gripped the blade, holding it in a resting position while the other held the handle, allowing her to drop into a combat stance or repel attacks if necessary. She'd pulled her hood back over her helmet, hiding the deaths head helmet from view with shadows. She was focused on her surroundings, letting her eyes and body run on autopilot behind the orc while her she focused on the sounds and smells around her.

The game trail they appeared to be following was in shoddy shape, it reminded her of the depleted tunnels in the mines... Left to rot and cave-in when they'd outlived their usefulness. But here everything was green, not the cold grey of stone, it was better... Freedom was better.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, woods around Gorangrad

About fifteen minutes after entering the path, Stern stopped walking. He kneeled, moving some dead leaves away before nodding to himself. His gaze travelled left, losing itself in the vegetation. He sighed and stood back up, walking away from the path, careful not to step directly on the tracks. His instinct was telling him something, yet he couldn't understand what yet... He reached one of the biggest trees he could find and left his spear next to its base, beginning to climb it. His hands and feet adapting to the crevices of the bark and the branches, moving quickly. Back at the Bulwark Stern had bested any of his Brothers and Sisters in the harsh phisical training, a fact that Stern did not hold with pride, just with mere acknowledgement.

Once atop of the tree, the greenskin contemplated the area. Many scenarios were forming in his mind... Yet he was starting to understand why many had died while hunting the shifter.
The whole area around the village had plenty of intricate paths and possible hiding spots...
One thing was sure: if Stern would have remained in that area, he would have become the prey.
George
Tanyth Carven, woods of Gorangrad

The mercenary had little interest in following the white rose off the trail. She knelt down to examine the tracks herself and frowned, "It's lived here a while." She mumbled to herself, her gaze trailed the underbrush for a moment, stopping on the trail the orc had blazed toward his tree. "Hunters stick to the trails... Hunters die... Maybe the holy man is right to abandon them," She stepped over the tracks and made her way to the tree the white rose had climbed. She wasn't about to climb up after him, instead she listened carefully for any unnatural sounds coming from around them.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, woods of Gorangrad

Stern could smell the mercenary being close to the tree and groaned, jumping back down, the impact made the ground shake and some leaves fell off. The greenskin grabbed his silver spear and returned to his march, starting think of a plan to make the shifter come out of its hiding spot... 
He searched his bag for the book he had brought with him and looked at the young woman behind him. He shook his head and returned to look at the forest around him.
His ears twitched slightly at a sound he recognized as a twig snapping. He immediately put the book away and began smelling the air, growling to himself. 
A few seconds later he emitted a snarl, making a poor hare flee in terror from one of the nearby bushes. 
"Your sword won't be of use here, mercenary." He kneeled. "Might as well go back from where you came."
George
"It can behead a shifter. It'll work, this ain't my first hunt." She said calmly, her posture relaxed, though the way her hand tensed and relaxed betrayed her readiness. She was putting on airs... Likely trying to make the shifter think she was off guard if it was around. "We need bait, a way to draw it out. What's it been hunting? Kids, the elderly, women? We should go back to the village and get a volunteer." It was practical, even if it was cold hearted as hell. "If they die I can compensate their family... Though I'd suggest getting someone few are likely to miss, villagers won't be as angry and the shifter might be more willing to attack."
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad

Stern nodded as he listened to the mercenary, all while he began moving snow away from the spot next to him, his hands moved quickly, revealing something that only a nose like his would have found.
In the snow was laying the half eaten corpse of a man. The body was in a well preserved state due to the snow, which made very clear that a good chunk of flesh and organs were missing, the neck had been bitten and lacerated, the leather armor torn and the guts just as scattered in a complete mess, yet there was a certain method in the way the wounds were located, as to incapacitate the man.
"This shifter doesn't hunt the villagers..." The greenskin sighed before standing back up "This shifter hunts hunters..."
He let out a soft growl. "And it knows how... A big sword like yours won't help, neither will your mind set. This is not a simple task and your life is not something you can protect easily here. Go away." Stern closed the eyes of the man and put some snow back on his body. "Goz maradd nor galash..." He muttered before standing up and walking past her once again. His warning sounded like a big rock falling into a lake, such were the depth and seriousness behind it... Stern knew how dangerous his situation was, enough to bring him to end his silence to warn someone he had never met, not Because he cared, but because he was more than aware of the fact that the mercenary was definitely not going to survive with the little knowledge she had.
Stern looked at her and pointed at the small mound of snow where the man was buried. "Make your choice."
George
Tanyth Carven, forests of Gorangrad

She glanced down at the body and scoffed softly, "You act like my life is valuable. It's worth about 2,000 gold, if you had to know." It was a grim statement, but delivered as a joke, she rolled her shoulders. The movement exposed a bit of her neck, between the collar of her bodysuit and her helmet, for just the barest of moments Stern would've been able to see the slave brand on her neck indicating she was trained by the southern isles slavers. 

"I have made my choice, holy man, I'm hunting a shifter. If it kills me then at least I made a choice."
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad

"Death is not a choice." Stern pulled his hood back, revealing his face. It was a face he had been covering most of his life, even in the year he passed among the paladins of the Order. Each line of it seemed to be carved in green stone, for it was hard and sharp, the portrait of a life spent in constant conflict. His deep hazel eyes spoke of nights spent awake under the clear skies of the Taemarian wilderness, one of which almost blinded by a cut, a scar he carried for almost a decade. His beard as wild as the true nature of the paladin, a creature who sought order in a life without solace. Stern was looking at her with staggering intensity, looking into the young soul who dared call death a choice. 
The hunter's lips parted slightly as words too hard to tell remained tied to their owner. He let out a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. What he had in front of him was a copy of him... A mirror of his young soul before the dark and sharp needles of loss stabbed his proud heart. Her life would have been saved or lost because of his next decision.

"Follow me."

Stern began walking.
George
Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad

"It is the only choice some have," She said with a quiet voice. He was handsome, though she'd never seen anything like him. The intensity he stared into her made her frown, though it was hidden behind thr mask of her helmet. She gripped the sword in her hands harder and followed after him. 

His scarred, green, face wasn't what she'd expected. But it didn't bother her at all, plenty of strange things in the world. "Where are we going? We should be finding this shifter."
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad

Stern shook his head. "We are preys in its territory now. Once the shifter will find out about us, it will come for us." The greenskin's voice was deep and serious, yet calm. He had experienced similar situations and the idea of being the hunted had become something he made peace with. His new plan was to find a place where an eventual attack would have been easier to provoke and yet leave them the possibility to fight back. They had plenty of daylight left, but that did not matter to either him or the shifter. Both able to see in the dark, both beasts the world had to get rid of.
Stern oriented himself thanks to some maps granted to him by the Elder. Apparently there were several caves on the southern end of the forest, caves which formed into a complex with many entrances and exits. That was his destination. 
His hand returned to the hood, covering his head once again.
George
Tanyth Carven, forest of gorangrad 

"I don't like this," She grumbled irritably, though she followed steadily after him despite her words. She wanted to just find this thing and lop off limbs until it stopped moving around. Then maybe light it on fire for good measure, she didn't understand the point of all this. 

But there had to be one, right? A reason this giant creature was taking her deeper into the forest? He was a holy man... He couldn't be planning something evil... And his clothes didn't look cobbled together or too small for him so he probably hadn't just killed someone and taken the clothes off the corpse. She didn't trust him, regardless, and her focus shifted from the shifter to the Orc walking ahead of her.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad

The hunter advanced steadily through the vegetation, his steps creating light thuds in the snow, yet leaving footprints the size of two big feet together. There was something peaceful in his movements, for instance the way he moved branches out of his way, manipulating gently. 
Despite his size, the greenskin seemed part of the environment, understanding how to move carefully without creating too many changes in the vegetation around him. It was something he had learned among his people during his childhood.

*We are part of the Maradian Forest, Stern. You must be part of it and it shall be your ally*

The words of his mother still echoing strong in his heart. The hunter stopped moving as something other than his memories caught his attention: A scent... Something similar to wolf hair. "What do you know about shifters?"

Stern gripped tightly on his spear, crouching slowly.
George
Tanyth Carven, forest of gorangrad 

She sensed the change and gripped her sword, "I know a few: They can transform into three different animals, they're weak to silver, you can burn them to kill them or decapitate them." She turned her head, looking out at the wilderness as she ducked and dodged the plants he moved. She came to a stop behind him, muscles coiled and ready to spring away. 

"Where are you taking me, and why have you stopped?" Her voice was filled with a calm distrust, like she'd expected the worse out of him and was starting to think she'd been right.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, forest of Gorangrad

Stern nodded, his deep and growly voice was way lower than usual. "There are different types of shifters... By the marks on the man I can say that our shifter can turn into a wolf." Stern could hear various sounds... Many paws on the snow. "There is a pack of wolves nearby. They won't attack us and they are useful. Shifters are not liked by animals."
Stern smelled the air and growled softly. "We must move quickly, they are coming this way and I don't want to kill today."
He stood up and began walking at a quicker pace. He did not like the idea of facing an agile shifter, but from what he saw on the man's corpse, the shifter was definitely faster than many others... Which meant fast metamorphosys... The more he began to understand about his prey, the more he realized how difficult the fight would have become. 
"I'm taking you to a place where the shifter will attack us." 
Stern said brashly. He did not want to waste time explaining his plan to her, not at the moment.
George
Tanyth Carven, forest of gorangrad

Tanyth picked up the pace and began to follow him quickly, she absorbed his information and sped up to run beside him. "Good, I'm glad to hear it," She said in response to his revelation. The blood-lust in her voice was clear... She craved the kill, the thrill of battle... It made her feel alive.

Maybe she was insane... Maybe the rage had truly consumed her and made her a monster, she didn't care though. What good was peace and serenity when those pirates were still alive.