Alisha
Lumikki Eisenhald, the Witherlands

They have traveled day in and day out, for at least two weeks, finally, they crossed the bitter, cold water and made it to Horn Hills. "There she is." Lumikki stated, looking at the land, as the wolf howled on the rickety boat with excitement. They continued through the harsh climate, her eyelashes held snowflakes and Lyla shook the snow off her fur, every few steps. That night, they took refuge in a small inn that didn't cost more than a few coins a night. *Till then* She thought. *We will stay here till the brawl...* She reached her hand over and stroked the fur of the wolf sitting beside her easing her nerves. *Till then...*
Hassan
Solomon & Wendy
Hellebore Garrison, The Witherlands

"No."

"Wendy, the process has already begun. A few more letters and arrangements need to be made, and then—"

_"No._ She's not ready."

"If I'm not mistaken, this decision doesn't require your approval," Solomon said. His voice wasn't smug or sneery in the slightest. As he looked down at the paperwork he'd been completing before Wendy barged in, the young lord kept his tone relatively neutral. If anything, all that could be detected from it may have been a slight sigh of exasperation. They'd been having this conversation for quite some time, now.

"She hasn't indicated at all that she's ready for a commitment like this. The girl is _blind,_ Solomon. She can't just leave this place, and she shouldn't have to," Wendy said. She stood before her younger brother, her hand planted on his desk as she asserted her thoughts about her sister's recently announced betrothal to a noble fellow in a place the author hoped would prove relevant at a later time so that she can use it as a plot point later.

"Caroline is a nice young woman, and she's also quite pretty. Any man should be pleased by that," Solomon said, moving a paper from one stack to the next as he began reading another one over.

"She can hardly do anything on her own. Imagine adding some man into the mix. It won't work. And I won't let you force the impossible," Wendy said.

"You do realize that if _you_ were married to someone, father and I wouldn't have to make decisions like this," Solomon said. He took a moment, now, to stop his work and look his sister directly in the eyes.

At this, Wendy's resolve faltered just enough to make her pause and try to gather a defense.

"Don't blame this on me. I have troops to manage, a threat to monitor—"

"—and I'm not saying that you don't. But you are clearly committed to your responsibilities. And because of that, Caroline needs to carry some weight and commit to responsibilities of her own. You, of all people, should understand that. General," Solomon said, ending with her title for good measure.

Wendy narrowed her eyes and merely huffed, turning swiftly on her heel and making for the exit of Solomon's study. Her cloak snapped in his face, the gust it created enough to scatter his papers about the desk.

"Caroline isn't marrying anyone, you can be sure of that," Wendy said, before exiting and slamming the door shut behind her.

Solomon sighed and shook his head, organizing his papers once more before leaning back in his chair and gazing out of the window. His view overlooked one of the estate's courtyards. He could see Caroline there now, bundled up with some of her favorite furs, getting some fresh air with the personal guard that had been assigned to her. She was smiling, talking to the young man and walking about the space, with his help, of course. Solomon observed for a few more moments, before turning and returning to his paperwork.

"I believe I'm quite sure, actually."
Bernice
Ostiary Vigi Bolstad, The Bulwark

They exited the room rather quickly, the limp body of the boy still on the floor. The moment they were out of earshot, Vigi visibly relaxed, color returning to his rosy cheeks. He looked up at Stern and have an audible sigh. "That could have gone..." He shook his head, giving a soft smile, "That could have gone a _lot_ worse, my boy." 

The Bulwark as beginning to shut down for the night. What looked like a quickly growing party in the dining halls ceased almost completely the moment they stopped serving food, and for the exception of a wayward couple and the last remaining Ostiaries eating their food alone, it appeared that everyone else had gone to bed, happy to retire after a long days work. "I will get you set up in one of the newer rooms, for diplomats or guests. Due to your size and..." A limp hand motioned from head to toe of the Orc, "Well, your green skin and _boar tusks_ , I think you can understand exactly why I don't feel comfortable with you being in the barracks quite yet."

They returned to the Upper Halls, where cloth curtains had been pinned over the windows. They did little to keep out the cold, but kept out the wind efficiently enough. The newfound abundance of lit braziers kept the area nice and warm. Cut into the wall was a large oak door, just large enough for Stern to enter with only having to slightly lower his head. Vigi unlocked the door and allowed it to slowly swing open, revealing a sparse, but homely, room. A small fireplace was built into the wall, and while there was nothing currently in the pit, there was a stack of firewood at the side and some fire starting materials on the mantle. A couch was placed across from it, and between them was a table, complete with inkwell, quill, and a holy book of the Duel Goddesses. In the corner there was a fairly large bed, a wooden frame holding a thick pile of hay and covered in soft fur hides. It looked like it could support the weight of two people. On the nightstand adjacent was a pitcher filled with water. 

Vigi stood by the doorframe and nodded, marking his departure. "Please do make yourself at home, Stern. I will see you again, to this I have no doubt. There will be some men coming to your room later. This happens with all of our new members, so please, do not be afraid. If you have any problems, direct them to me, or any of the other Ostiaries. Goodnight, Stern." The door was closed behind him.
Bertha
Edmund Silverstep, the WItherlands
Dead streets of Nornver

The young man limped quickly through the narrow streets of a town he once knew, panting as he hurried to find something flamable - those bodies in the streets.. They had to be destroyed, cleansed! He was afraid. Long gone memories of one or two soldiers from his father's militia dying from a strange disease flashed before him once again. Their charred remains were never burried near High Helm - they were always thrown into a brothers' grave just outside the fortress' walls. Nobody dared touch them - they were 'unclean', as it were.

"How did they let this happen?" 

Edmund muttered to himself, finding a rigid enough stick and tearing up a piece of cloth he had stored in his bag just in case to quickly put together a sloppy torch. Now all he had to do was somehow pull the bodies he'd found in a big pile to then set ablaze. This sickness, this.. Disease must not leave the palisade of Nornver. It mustn't travel home...

With an expression of grim anticipation he headed back to town's square where the corpses of a once thriving city now lay, frozen in place. Their faces were terrifying to Edmund - expressions of fear, agony and disgust were instilled on them and in their glossy eyes there was nothing left as they stared out into the distance, blind and motionless... Death itself was sitting among them, perhaps to marvel at the morbid beauty of its deadly work.

In addition to fear, the cold around him forced the young knight to take actions as quickly as he possibly could. It wouldn't be a couple of hours before he'd lay down and freeze like the rest of them if he did nothing, so he had to hurry up.

"Let not the sickness get me."
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark.

The hunter entered the room, looking around. As the door closed the orc began studying how the lock worked. He had never seen a lock mechanism and that metal piece was definitely something worth his attention. 
Orgun trotted around the room before climbing on top of the bed and curling up, yawning rather cutely. 
The orc couldn't get his head around the mechanical parts of the door, so he just gace up... He started a fire in the fireplace and paced around the room. The forniture was... Different from the raw logs of wood he used to turn into tables and stools... 
Stern sat slowly on the couch and realized how soft it was... Compared to the stones and benches he had been sitting on all his life... He was about to relax when the tension on the wooden supports began to make them emit crackling sounds. The orcgot immediately up and sighed. Those things were not designed for creatures like him...

His attention shifted towards the book on the table. He did not touch it, yet he knew all too well that the knowledge contained inside it was momentarilly out of his reach. 
Growling in frustration, he paced towards the bed and laid down, completely new to the softness if it... His muscles relaxed and his weary spined was finally let be... Orgun climbed on top of Stern's torso and laid on top of the hunter's abdomen. Stern smiled slightly and pet the wolf. His journey finally over.
Rebeca
Nirvana Airenfield, The Witherlands

Following the figure far infront of her, Nirvana decided not to interfere and not stay the night in a hotel room persé, but to let herself lay on two chairs that were pushed together in a lobby next door. 
Nirvana knew that if she kept her own distance away from the silouette in the distance, she wouldnt have to deal with the beast that accompanied her. She followed them past the water, which kept her hair and what she had left of protective armour frozen, so the sweet relief of finding a place to stay was heaven to her. 
Atleast it was good until she got kicked out.
Hassan
Alabet Havar
Warren Klade
The Bulwark

After some time had passed a set of voices appeared beyond the door to the orcs room, one high and excited while the other seemed less than thrilled about the whole ordeal. "Oh come on Warren try and lighten up. You don't honestly believe it's as bad as all that right?" Came the younger voice as the door clicked open, the older man, Warren the younger had called him, merely grunted a response, muttering something along the lines of "Save it for your journal, Alabet." As they both entered the room their body language was night and day in response to the strange sight. Alabet, the scholar of the two was obviously fascinated by the strange turn of events. Warren on the other hand seemed less than enthusiastic about the outlandish sight before him.
Joyce
The orc's ears had warned him about someone's arrival minutes before the two reached the door. His cautious instinct had made him wait for them standing next to the fire with his arms crossed. He was towering over the two and he definitely did not like to receive uninvited guests. 
As the two entered, the hunter nodded, greeting them in his definitely not welcoming fashion. "Who are you two?" His voice was just as displeased as his expression. He studied the two paladins, immediately catching the feeling of distaste the bigger had towards him. 
He was wearing his ragged cloth pants and his boots, the rest pf his gear was forming a clumsy pile in a corner of the room. Orgun was sleeping on the bed.
Alisha
Lumikki Eisenhald
The Horn Hills

Lumikki rolled over on her side and paused, sitting there a moment she watched the wolf pace back and forth. "Lyla?" She wondered if something was wrong. The wolf trotted over and nipped her sleeve cuff, pulling her out of bed and to the door. Lumikki stumbled out of the bed and to the door."Quid est?" She said in a irritated tone as she pushed open the door of the inn room. Lyla shot out of the door, into the snow, like a bullet from a pistol. "VENI!" The girl called after her, running. "Wench..." She cursed as the wolf ran into the woods. Lumikki stopped and watched the wolf from a distance, knowing she can't catch up to a wolf, no matter her skill. She scoffed and rolled her eyes as the wolf relived herself. "All that for this eh...?" She turned and began walking back to the inn, looking around at the settlement. *Hmm, there's quite a few people* "Veni!" She called and the wolf strided back to her side. Lumikki paused as she walked past the stranger who seemed to be watching her and her companion. She clicked her tounge once and lyla switched to her left side, creating a barrier from the foreigner. They walked together to a nearby pub, soon out of sight from the stranger.
Rebeca
Nirvana Airenfield
The Horn Hills

Nirvana watched as the doors opened, the yellow light from the inside was still visible in the day time. As soon as the large beast ran out, she jumped with a fear she hasnt faced this whole time. She recouped from the moment of fear and watched as they went out of sight, the figure following the hound out of her field of vision. *Where are they going now?* Letting out a huff of disappointment, she continued to trace their steps, slowly but surely.
Hassan
Alabet Havar
Warren Klade
The Bulwark

The two listened and waited for the green guest to speak before introducing themselves per his question. "Alabet Havar." Said the smaller one, sizing the orc up as one might size up a peculiar art piece or a puzzle to be solved. "Warren Klade." Said the other, simply looking the newcomer over as if he were something scraped off of a shoe. Of the two only one was happy to be there which was painfully obvious no matter how little the orc knew of social interactions. After a moment or two the younger fellow spoke up again. "They sent us down to welcome you and see to it that your room was ah... Suitable?" "They also mentioned some strange tales you'd been spinning. Mind sharing what that's all about?" The older veteran said, hijacking the welcome wagon speech.
Joyce
Stern Logarsh, the Bulwark

The hunter gazed into the flames of the fireplace, his green skin slightly tending to a more brownish tone due to the light. "Tales?" The orc returned to his silence after the rather short question had been posed. His hazel eyes shifted from the fire to the two men in his room. 
He did not understand most of the words they were using... Yet he was able to understand the overall meaning of the sentences... For now.
Hassan
Alabet Havar
Warren Klade
The Bulwark

The younger fellow threw and elbow into his friends gut, drawing a huff and little more. "Forgive my dear friend. Seems he was thumped over the head a few too many times while out campaigning." Though he did mean well his curiosity got the better of him. "Ah... Perhaps there was some mention of a strange item? And more than a few of the boys saw you handling a suspicious looking bundle when you first arrived." "They say you're a hunter." The older man chimed in. "Though nobody comes to us with the notion to chase down deer."
Joyce
The orc nodded and trew a piece of wood into the flames. "I come from what you call Taemar... Big forests, warm springs... Always meat to hunt... My people got killed for reasons I do not understand and the men who did this wore... Uhm..." He traced a line with his finger around his neck. "I found their underground hut and killed all, then found scrolls and maps... You were marked as enemies, so I travelled many moons to join my enemy's enemy." 
His voice had become much darker as the memories of bloodshed and suffering returned to claw his grief-filled heart.
Hassan
Alabet Havar
Warren Klade
The Bulwark

They both listened as the brute spoke, nodding off and on and reacting to the change in his tone in a similar fashion. The news of new enemies wasn't exactly too surprising to either of them, though the scholar was obviously more troubled than the veteran. After a moment the older man chimed in "So assuming there are more of these folks around. What's your plan once we root them out? Dip out to find more of your own kind?" This question drew a nasty look from his younger friend.