Alisha
Lumikki Eisenhald, Witherlands
Forest

*Pat, pat, pat* The sound of paw prints as Lyla jogged in the snow beside her master. Lumikki would hold her arms close to her side as the cold stabbed at her nose. Her breath, as well as Lyla's was as visible as the snow itself. She'd keep a careful eye out for her surroundings and continue to walk, careful with her footsteps, not wanting to trip in the snow. Lyla would quickly jump in front of lumikki, stopping her in her tracks. Knowing what this meant Lumikki scanned the area around her vigilantly. The wolf would growl and stand protectivly, at something in the near distance. Unable to see clearly through the snow, Lumikki would unsheath her dagger and narrow her eyes. A hooded figure would apear in the blizzard before her. Unable to make out the features she resorted to what she knew best... Killing. She dropped the large cargo of skins and sprinted to the back side of the figure, as Lyla kept her stance distracting the figure from Lumikki. As Lumi approached from behind she'd grab the figure by the head and slit their throat. The body dropped to the floor and she knelt down beside it and wiped her blade on the cloth of their clothes. It was a young man with a handsome structure and blue eyes that now lacked the bright light of life they had before, he was around the same age as her. "Hic." She stated, and the wolf jogged to her side once more. Lumikki sheathed her dagger and searched the body finding a few coins, she stuffed them in her pocket, stood up and grabbed her cargo, slinging it on her back as she turned to leave the body to rot, lyla pranced beside her in the snow with a peice of dried fish in her mouth that she had found from the body. Together they continued to hike through the snow.
Bertha
Sir Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands
Frozen Pines of Morn

As they walked along the frozen thicket, Edmund thought back to what'd happened mere hours before - he could've been dead from any of the three encounters and yet.. There he was, walking along with just a limp from his wounded leg and a strange shitblood following him around. Speaking of which, his little quips entertained Edmund in a way, although he barely listened - his attention was drawn more to the woods around them... The crunching snow, the quick dashing of a fatty hare here or there and an occasional howl of a warg, singing its lonely song so far away...

And then the Jester spoke, breaking the silence and making Edmund wince a bit with at the phrase in the beginning. He listened to the man's tone slowly change as his elaborate question proceeded before snapping back jarringly back to the more foolish one with the broken words and needless "S'" All around with caution - the question was about him, after all. Then all fell silent again - Jestah was awaiting his responce. Not hurrying along, Edmund remained silent for a couple of moments, mulling the question and a responce to it over in his head... And soon, his cold voice began to speak once more:

 "Your observation of the fact that nothing is without reason surprises me, given how you are dressed and your manner of speech. However, the answer is way more simple than you think - knighthood gives me the right to inherit my father's estate - the fortress of High Helm. And, as per traditions of ours, I must seek out a higher noble to serve in the court of for a year until I can actually return. I hope this answer's satisfied your thirst for knowledge well enough." He finally concluded, walking forth without anything more to say to or ask of Jestah.
Bernice
Ostiary Vigi Bolstad

The Bulwark, The Witherlands

Vigi nodded and continued onwards, deeper into the mountain. The presence of guards was becoming more and more visible. The stone that covered the walls shifted in hew, from the gentle grey to a starker black. The rock looked almost volcanic in nature, and hummed with a soft heat. This section of the Bulwark looked more recent, if _recent_ could be applied to additions that were still probably a half a century old. A few monks, standing on boxes, were busy scrubbing down the walls. The carvings here showed the conquering of dragons, the taming of land, the establishment of the Order. A bare mountain range, one heavily resembling the area they were now in, stood stalwart against the onslaught of violence and terror brought by beasts long since past. 

Before them was a large, open doorway. It was taller then it was wide, and a gentle gust of wind swept by their feet. "I—" Vigi began to speak, closed his eyes for a moment, and stepped inside. "Pray that he's in a good mood. Be gracious or it _will_ be your head." He whispered, looking back to Stern with steeled eyes. 

The room holding the Grand Crusader was dark. He hardly ever left it. Things had remained, in this room, the way they were when he donned the mantle. Genn Servius the Third, named after his long dead grandfather and father before him, had been Grand Crusader for longer than anyone could remember. As such, there was an almost alien quality to him. His beard, white with a few strands of blond, was tied so intricately and so tightly that it only came down to his chest. His hands, covered in thick plates of steel, rest at the ends of the arms of his throne, dust on the knuckles.

"Grand..." The word seemed to suck the air out from Vigi's lungs, "Grand Crusader, I have come delivering the visit—"

"Stop." The voice was deep, dusty. "Who is it that speaks to me?"

"Ostiary Vigi Bolstad, Grand Crusader. You fought alongside my great grandfather, Virgil Bolstad, in the battle of th—"

"Aaaaah. Tell the visitor to walk past you. Tell him to come and kneel before me. It is customary." 

Only the vague outline of the Grand Crusader could be seen, the area before Vigi and Stern both bathed in darkness.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark

Stern's eyes were perfectly able to see in the almost complete darkness of the hall, emitting a very subtle hazel glow when some light reached them, similar to the eyes of a cat. The hunter understood the age and power of the man sitting in the throne before him, yet his wild heart had yet to be tamed. He unstrapped the leather strings holding his mantle and top part of his padded clothing, dropping it to the ground, a sign that expressed trust towards the authority he had in front of him. The now bare chested greenskin stepped forward, yet he did not kneel, not knowing what the word "Kneel" Actually meant. His almost hellish voice echoed through the hall. "I am Stern Logarsh, adoptive son of Moradd the Trapper and last living member of the Boar Clan. I walked for many moons to bring you help in your hunt."

His words were simple, almost brutish, a sign of how much the orc had yet to learn about the civilized world. He pulled out of his bags all the scrolls he had with him, waiting for the old hunter to reply.
Stephanie
Jestah, Witherlands
The Pines of Morn

Jestah would just continue to follow behind Edmund listening carefully as they walked. Tilting his head from one to the other as Edmund spoke seeming to be studying everything the noble was stating.

"So just a way of ya noble arse to grow moe noble. Can't blame ya wanting that I'm sure ya pah must be really well off. Also ya mention the ways I talk but eres the thing I might speak like a fool but donts mean I dont got the brains and eye to study situations foe what they is"
Bertha
Sir Edmund Silverstep, the Witherlands
Frozen pines of Morn

His pace slowed down a tad so to allow his leg to rest somewhat - the pain was hellish and, coupled with the cold, it made him grit his teeth to hold back a yowl of utter annoyance... But he carried on, though with a slightly stronger limp than before, trying to focus more on the conversation at hand rather than the seething feeling of his burnt wound stretching and ripping itself up a bit with every step he took.

"Essentially." He pushed out with a grunt after Jestah was finished with his little speech. "As per the way you speek... I suppose I can get used to it." He looked forth, noticing something in the cleared-up distance. "Woahoho! Wouldja look at that? A bloody sign.. We're on the right track here, my friend!" He pointed to the lonely plack, made of wood with something carved out on it. The wood was dark, frozen - who knows how many years it's stood there, untouched and unnoticed by anyone.. Finally, it could be of some use to this unlikely pair of weary travellers, pointing a way to the closest warm fireplace..

"Think it's about half a day's worth of a way till we reach Nornver.." Edmund exclaimed, frankly a bit excited at the prospect of finally getting out of the cold.
Stephanie
Jestah, Witherlands
The Pines of Morn

Jestah would pace through the snow like it was nothing, having a high dexterity to himself he'd practically be skipping behind Edmund. The snow crunching loudly under Jestahs boot as the man would now be by Edmunds side. As they walk he'd stop to look at the sign tilting his head at it before chuckling as he says in a mocking tone.

"Well twelve hours ain't to bad to walk, I mean I knows I can walk that long no problem but with ya limping leg ya think ya can handle ya self noble? I mean I wish ya luck with that ...Like seriously break a leg... Oh wait hahahah." *Chuckles softly before turning back to the direction they're walking as he would hum a calming tune as they kept making their way to Nornver* 

"I wondah if the news about the house I broke into had spread to that place ..Wells hopefully not I mean I love me a chase but when I enter town I wanna buy both of us a drink cause bloody ell ams I thirsty and needin a good drink."
Alisha
Lumikki Eisenhald, The Witherlands


The wind had slowed and the snow fell even. It isolated the two of them, cutting out any noise that surrounded them. 
"Terra Incognita." She would command, and Lyla would zig-zag ahead of lumikki, exploring the land and paved a path making sure it was safe. Every now an again the young wolf would lope back to her owner and make sure she was safe, occasionally rubbing against her, then gallop back out a few dozen feet. 

The routine stopped abruptly when Lumikki heard a deep howl up ahead. She'd rush over to see the wolf sitting calmly. "Quid est?" At those words, the wolf jumped up and strided ahead as Lumikki followed. Not less than 3 yards ahead a small, semi-permenant hut was visible. She walked up to it and peered in a crack in a boarded up window, nothing but darkness could be seen. She knocked on the door harshy, keeping her oppositie hand close to the sheathed dagger... Not a soul nearby besides the eager wolf that pawed at the wooden door. Lumikki opened the door and was greeted by a Racoon's corpse on the floor and the stench of rotting flesh. She'd kick the corpse into the snow and walk into the dark cabin. She knelt and pulled out a small block of flint and some steel, along with some twine.

The fire was warm and heated the most of the cabin, considering its size. Lyla layed down near the fire, the frost melting off her already white fur, as lumikki unrolled a few skins and layed them down, she sat on them pulling a few pieces of dried meat from a pouch and chewed em. The wolf lifted her head up and tilted it as her jaw dropped and her tounge rolled out. Lumikki tossed her a small piece and Lyla swallowed it whole. "Bonum." Lumikki said to the wolf as it begged for another piece. "We will stay here for tonight..." She began, "Tomorrow we will try to find a place to buy some food, or water." Lumikki tended to speak to her pet often. As she had very little human interaction, since the most she has ends up in blood. "Bonum nocte." Lumikki laid her head down as the wolf coppied and they both drifted to sleep.