Joyce
Stern Logarsh. Outside the Bulwark, the Witherlands.

The hunter stopped walking at the sight of the settlement, his eyes travelling from the tents to the people to the walls. He had never been inside a city, nor he had ever seen that many people. He didn't like it... 
The orc's iron will took over his animalistic instincts. He had to keep going... So he started walking. His huge body, the bear fur and the fact that all of his skin was covered by clothing, made several people step back as he walked on the road to the secondary gate. He ignored the gaze of all the people, yet when a child pointed at him and exclaimed "Mom look! A giant!" He couldn't help but glare at the youngling. The mother immediately took the child with her and quickly disappeared into the small crowd which was now forming around that gargantuan stranger.

Stern was starting to lose his temper, when he felt something in his hand. Orgun was licking his fingers, nuzzling them before curling up again inside his palm. Stern sighed as that moment of unexpected sweetness relieved some of the stress he was feeling. 

As he got closer to the gate, Stern was getting more and more nervous... *Never enter a village, Stern... People are not ready to welcome you among them*... The words of his adoptive mother didn't help the orc either...

Then he heard a voice. "You, stranger! To enter the Bulwark you need a pass." A guard had already pointed his spear at the hunter who was towering above him. 
Stern attempted to soften his voice, feat which he surprisingly managed to complete. "I have important information for the White Roses, your enemies are plotting to siege this place. Let me pass or your people will not be prepared." His serious tone, which was now lower and more like a whisper, sent shivers through the guard's spine.
Bernice
The Order of the White Rose, The Bulwark

The guard before Stern, Jareth, was currently shaking. He had seen a lot of terrifying things in his short time in the White Roses, especially as a grunt positioned outside the front gates. He had never seen someone that tall, or muscular, or _green_, or _tusked._

"H-he says he has information, o-o-on the Coven!" Jareth would shout to the other guards above him, in the towers. "H-he says we're not prepared! He wants t-to come in!" In his nervous haste, Jareth had neglected to mention that the visitor was also terrifyingly unhuman. Jareth was a terrible guard. 

Very quickly, news of a giant of the outskirts of the Bulwark spread. They had been expecting some sort of scout from the Coven of the Raven, but they were hardly expecting so... Lumbering. They had also hardly expected them to walk up to the front gates and explained that he had information on the Coven itself. The man at the gate, intimidated by the sudden appearance of the imposing visitor, had stuck out the spear to make some distance between them. The men on the tower, however, were not as apt to strike. Instead, they called down to Stern.

"Hark!" The left one called, "Who are you and from where do you hail?" He was covered in plate armor, holding out a torch to get a better look. He couldn't get a discernable glance underneath the pelts Stern wore. "I assure you, traveler, we are better prepared than most to deal with the threat of witches and demons. How does a man like you come into possession of scrolls like that? Logic would entail that you are a spy, but—" There was the sound of clicking crossbows. "Only an idiot would come here with the expectation of breaking in."
Joyce
Stern looked up at the armored man with spite. "I am Stern Logarsh of the Boar Clan, I have come from Taemar following the maps your enemies made. If I wanted to kill your people this puny guard wouldn't have even noticed my presence." His voice was strong like thunder in a stormy night. The orc grabbed his dagger and trew it on the ground."I don't know the rules of your people, but from where I come there is no honor killing someone who is not posing a threat. Let me in or cower behind your walls like the spineless slugs you are!" The orc returned to his silence, his eyes perfectly able to gaze into the paladin's showing no fear, lies nor weakness. He was once again standing before death and, just as before, he spat at it.
Bernice
Order of the White Rose, The Bulwark.

"Yeah, well—" The guard from the tower held his crossbow up and personally clicked it back, "We're happy you didn't kill him, Stern Logarsh of the Boar Clan. It would not have ended well. Jareth! Pat the man down for any more weapons. I'll call for them to let him in." 

Jareth snapped into action, quickly sheathing the spear over his back. He had to stand on the tips of his toes just to pat down his shoulders. When he was finished, he resumed his position and again removed his spear. "H-he's good!" Once again, neglecting to mention the fact that Stern was an Orc. 

Slowly, the gates began to rumble. The large gate shuttered into life, two thick chains tugging it upwards. It would be a while before it was raised. "Where _does_ a man like you come from, Stern Logarsh? My brothers and sisters in arms have been to Taemar. We have no reports of their people being shaped like the broad side of a barn."
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark

The glared at the man who patted him before kneeling and sheathing his dagger. The wolf pup hopped off his hand, trotting around the hunter. He stood still until the gate raised completely, then the orc began walking silently, finding the question and the comment about his size worthless, hence why he didn't even bother answering. He walked through the gate, eyeing every single person he saw, mentally counting them and studying their gear, just in case...
Orgun followed him diligently, focusing solely on him, the wolf's instinct told it to remain close to the greenskin as he was the only familiar smell it could sense.

"Where is your chief?" The orc spoke directly, making it sound more like an order to who he identified as the most experience deprived guard he had ever met. He didn't even think about using the name of the man who seconds earlier pointed a spear at him.
Bernice
Jareth had stayed in his position at the gate, more than happy to finally be out of the range of the Orc. The gate would slam hard behind him, the chains losing all of their tension, leaving Stern now officially in the Bulwark. 

The place was almost a work of art. The smaller details of the architecture were lost on the outside, but in a place where the weather couldn't reach and erode them away, a time capsule stood. For as long as the historians of the Order could approximate, the Bulwark had always been there. Of course, they had added to it, but whatever people came before left their mark in a significant way. The building style was one lost to time, still cared for and maintained by a diligent group of protectors. 

They day looked like it was winding down, but that didn't mean that there was any lack of people in the main courtyard. Men and women in plate male and crisp robes alike went about doing their daily work. The scaffolding on the Northern wall extended inwards as well, and the same grouping of tents was taking up what could only be approximated as a sparring yard. The main building, a proper fortress, extended after up onto the mountain it was built against and behind it, cut deep into the stone, were balconies.

The entire place shimmered with the blaze of bonfire. Huge braziers kept the place well illuminated. 

One of the men stopped when Stern addressed them. He was almost as tall and as broad as Stern, thick plate armor and a broadsword at his back. "The Grand Crusader?"
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark

Stern observed the architecture of the Bulwark with a pinch of curiosity. In his whole life he had never seen something so distant from natural landscapes or simple huts, houses and palisades at best. Yet what he was looking at now was stone, stone which nobody would have ever needed to replace unlike the rotting thatch roof of a hut or the walls of mud of a round house.
The hunter looked at his interloper. He did not know what the word "Crusader" Stood for, nor he cared. The fact that the man understood he was asking to see their leader was enough for him. He was still covering his face thanks to the semi darkness of dusk and the scarf on his face. "I travelled for weeks to bring him something he might need. That you all might need." He pulled out of his bag some scrolls, not all of them in case he would have needed to bargain.