Joyce
Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad

The hunter listened carefully, sighing deeply as she ended her last sentence. 
Those words of anger and pain felt more than familiar, he could see a clear picture of her past which he felt closer to his young heart.
The only difference was the way that mercenary chose to deal with the pain.
Stern had decided to live with grief and found another life after the last one had been shattered by fate. His will had resisted the heat of rage and had become even stronger... He couldn't blame her for feeling rage and yet he saw something dark in it.
"You will find no peace in vengeance... I know about it."
His eyes locked onto the flames of the campfire. Looking at them was mesmerizing... And yet painful.
Stern removed his hood once again and relaxed his shoulders. "Death is never good... Not even when people deserve it."
George
Tanyth Carven, Forest of gorangrad 

"It is not peace I seek, and good and evil are matters of opinion. You think death isn't good... And I don't think it's good enough." She said coldly, turning her gaze from the campfire, she felt a familiar feeling... That tightness in her chest that came with the hatred and rage, like a snake twisting around her heart. "I think it should take a while, that they should die slowly... A minute for every day. Six hours... To be exact, I want them to suffer for six hours before I let them finally taste the mercy of death."

She shook her head and laughed, "All you religious types... You all tell me, 'turn the other cheek... The past is past. Put it behind you' as if what they did to me is forgivable. As if my suffering was part of some grand design... Curse your gods and spirits, curse them for telling me that I should forgive what was done to me. If it is evil to kill them, then I am evil and will find peace in the fires or the nine hells." She grumbled coldly and angrily. She'd been angry and vengeful for far too long, those dark feelings had rooted themselves deep in her soul.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad

A dagger flew millimeters past her before biting into a tree. 
"You know very little about me, don't speak like you know me, girl." Stern snarled before taking off his gauntlets and gathering the dagger who had bit into the tree and stopped only at the handle. The eyes of the greenskin were bearing a slightly red glow. "I am not a religious man and you'd better speak only when your words bear truth.". The big hands of the paladin bore many scars and were clenched in fists. " My people died many winters ago killed by people we never met before. The gods did not help me and neither do they care about me. I hunt for the Order to protect families who unlike us live happily. Men of the Order die for others and have been doing it for centuries. Cursing their souls is something your young heart should never do."
Stern growled before putting the dagger back into the sheath, his muscles were tensed up and ready to strike, yet the hunter returned to sit at the fire. "Don't you dare insult them in my presence again, for they are..." He stopped.
He spat on the ground and cracked his knuckles as he tried to relax.
George
Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad.

She didn't flinch, simply turning her head to look at the dagger. To his statements she merely replied, "Where was your order when my parents were murdered, when a little girl lost her innocence and was forced into the cruel world of violence and lust. Who died for me, hmm? Why is your order not in the southern aisles, slaughtering slavers and freeing their victims?" She sighed and shook her head, "Throw your knives and threaten your violence, I've been at the mercy of men who did the same... And they'll wish they hadn't." She said with a cool, uncaring tone. "You insult and speak ill of Mercenaries and sellswords, your contempt for me is obvious. Do not think your order any better, nobody helps anyone just put of kindness. It's not the way of the world."
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad

Stern shook his head "The Order cannot be everywhere and that is why I am here. We try to help as many people as possible and we never get paid for our contracts. Do you think I haven't lived in anger as you do? Your heart cannot burn forever... Not without turning into ash." The greenskin's red eyes met hers, two blood red orbs, a mirror of years of solitude and nightmares, mirrors of a torn soul. "Walk the path of hatred and you will be consumed by it. This is not life... Zor Malak nor Vokosh..." Stern instinctively used the tongue of his people before looking away from her.
He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath.
"A life spent in anger is not worth living."
He translated before he opened his eyes once again. The red glow was starting to dissipate. The flow of rage was once again being stopped by the paladin's iron will. "You cannot do this to yourself, you cannot turn into a Kodrakesh..." The last word had a heavy tone, filled with solemnity and a slight dose of fear. Stern returned to his silence and massaged his eyes.
He kept the meaning of that word for himself.
A choice he felt was the wisest.
George
Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad

She sighed and shook her head, "I have thirty names and faces to find and kill. When I do that, maybe then I will put my anger behind me... Maybe when those who made me this way share the terror and agony I felt at their hands... Maybe then I can die peacefully. But until that day, big man, until that day I will not let myself forget. I won't let a waking second be given to the thought of peace, I have held my will and my rage for twenty three years. Stop trying to fix what isn't broken, you coped with your past your way. Let me handle mine." Her words were just as heavy and firm, she was young and brash and refused to back down. She would not be cowed into submission and acceptance, "You found your calm waters... But I still sit in the hurricane... The waves are choppy. I will rise above the tide, even if I must stand upon a raft of corpses to do it." The darkness that gripped her was not one easily undone, her soul was already consumed by rage and hatred.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad

Stern caressed his beard, his eyes once again looking into the flames. "Nor mahesh vor Kodrakesh..."
He muttered before moving the embers a bit with a stick. "My name is Stern Logarsh of The Boar Clan, I will hunt with you and protect your life."
He sentenced briefly. The crackling of the fire made his pointy ears twitch slighty in a way that resembled a cat or a dog. Stern had become serious, his expression was once again statuary and cold. Something in him had awoken... A feeling of danger and incoming doom... Yet, as always, Stern did not run from such feelings and decided to coexist with them... Especially when those feelings wrapped tightly around someone he knew. The silence of the greenskin always carried a heavy meaning...
George
Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad.

She eyed him suspiciously, as if she didn't quite trust his word. "Stern... A fitting name, I am Tanyth Carven." She crossed one leg over the other, looking almost like a proper lady, "If you are to be my ally then listen closely... This is *My* Past and these are *My* Demons. I will kill them as I see fit, and you will use your station as a White Rose to get the guards on our side... As a compromise I will allow you to remove their families if they have them and assure you I won't torture them for longer than... Half an hour." She didn't seem willing to budge, though half an hour was much better than the six she'd intended... Not to mention what unspoken plan she'd had to get any possible wives or children to let her do such things.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, Forest of Gorangrad

Stern remained silent. 
He began removing the upper part of his gear, remaining bear chested. He enjoyed the lack of upper clothing, especially without the long and heavy robes. 
His muscular body was covered by a mosaic of scars, two of them were bigger than Tanyth's forearm. He stretched, growling softly. "I will not help you." He folded his robes as Vigi taught him, his movements were surprisingly careful, expressing the importance of that attire for him. A tattoo was running around his left bicep: a circle of thorns, symbol of his vows of servitude to the Order. Stern caressed it before letting the warmth of the campfire kiss his skin in that so familiar way. His tense muscles relaxed. 
He wouldn't have gone against his vows and beliefs to aid a Kodrakesh... It was one of the few taboos of his now lost clan.
George
Tanyth Carven, Forest of Gorangrad

"Then why come?" She growled, shaking her head, she should've just accepted she missed the contract and moved on to her own job. Now she was stuck in the forest with this creature and a shifter. "If you won't help, then the only other reason I can imagine you following me is to try and stop me, you'd have an easier time convincing that shifter out there to join your order." She said stiffly, turning sideways to lay on the ground by the fire. The insignia clasp glinted in the light, a glittering silver reminder that the angry and defiant girl was a very experienced soldier.