Starting Date and Time: 32nd Day of Saffra, 300 DM, mid-morning

Starting Location: Millmont, tiny village outside Ebonfort rule north of Scream Watch and west of Green Falls in the Chartric Forest

CS URLs: Bula Do'Gash

If anyone had to give the tiny scattered collection of thatch-roofed cottages and log huts a name they would have probably titled it Millmont. The mill-house, attached to the only stone building still standing, was no longer functional. The fragmented and water-blackened remains of the waterwheel still jutted up out of the swift stream like the fractured ribs of some great beast. No one who lived near it was alive when the machine still worked, and so it had seemed to always be that way. The stone miller's cottage served as the town's meeting hall, courthouse, theatre, and church for anyone who still believed in the unbelievable.

There was no real road to Millmont. The people who lived there melted in and out of the woods if they needed to travel, using wilderness lore and game trails. Supplies brought back from Scream Watch or Green Falls, days to the south or east, respectively, were only seasonal excitements or even less often than that. The hamlet, if it could even be called that, had an unstable population. People came and left as they saw fit, and the next season's newcomers built their shacks out of what had been left behind. The people lived on what the land provided; fishing in the river, subsistence farming, and panning.

Only a few residents lingered on through the years, tough and stubborn as barnacles on a jetty as they watched the harsh seasons turn and the strangers drift in and out like a campfire's smoke. Perhaps a half-dozen families at most, barely within sight of each other's houses through the trees. Old Man Djoth was one of these regulars, a tall man who had been formidable as a bear once upon a time. The faint tattoos, green with age now, as well as a strong preference for leather clothing, marked him as a Kvaren, and his graying eyes marked him as unfit for life in a saddle.

It was with a grim expression that Djoth greeted the day, leaning against one of the crude stalls in an open dirt-packed clearing where the minute populace could either come together for what they optimistically called "Market Day" and also where they could set up for holiday celebrations. The sky was overcast but still cast a flutter of reflection off the pitted longsword in the man's hand as he spun it contemplatively. There was no atmosphere for celebration today. The sun was barely up, and the old Screamer should be able to hear the sounds of children playing through the trees, but another child had gone missing in the night.

Another day of walking, another day of looking for work. Bula had lead her sisters this direction hoping to find some work, the closer to the border usually meant more work. The closer Bula got to Millmont the more she got a funny feeling in her spine, which usually meant money, or someone trying to kill them. She stopped and pulled her axe to let the brightly shining silver two handed weapon settle across her shoulders. Her sisters did likewise with their weapons, keeping them close at hand in case the villagers were not to friendly especially considering their Orcish nature. Their little donkey which Bula had named ‘Carrot’ due to his fondness for carrots looked tired and in need of water and food.

As the group got into the town Bula stopped the group near the town center right next to the stone well. Bula leaned the axe against the well and looked around the eerily quiet town, the grim looks on everyone’s faces. Something was wrong here, and usually when something was wrong Bula and her sisters could make some money fixing it. She pulled herself up onto the well her armor clanking as she did still slightly dirty from the road. She looked back and forth before sticking fingers in her mouth and giving a loud sharp whistle across the town square.

The sisters gathered around keeping a watch of Bula’s back, you could never be too careful out here in these border towns. Bula waited till everyone was looking then starts to speak loudly, her voice was gruff and snarling from the fact that she had tusks and just the fact that she was a orc. “People of this quaint town. I am Bula Do’Gash! And these are my sisters. We are esteemed bounty hunters! We hunt the evils of this world, whether monster, man, or elf! From the looks of things I feel like you may have a problem! We will fix this problem for you. This of course is not free, but do you really wish to live in this grim state?”

She lowered her hands to her sides to see if anyone was taking interest in what she had just said. She hopped down from the well and grabbed the axe slinging it back over her shoulders. She leaned over whispering as best she could in Leshy’s ear “Start seeing if there is a place for Carrot to get some water, and to set up our tents. We are at least going to stay for a night or two before moving on.” Leshy would go about her task at the command.

The arrival of not one, but four armed and dangerous-looking Orcs into Millmont did not bring any sort of comfort to the faces of the people there. Suspicious eyes peered at them through the trees and shabby cottages.

At Bula's loud and bold announcement, fully half of those listening fled with the sounds of doors being bolted and barricaded from within. Anyone out and about seemed to disappear, except Djoth. Frowning as only a wizened old warrior can frown, the tall human sheathed his longsword into a worn old scabbard and approached the orcish quartet, limping slightly.

"Shut yer yap, Orc", Djoth growled when he was close enough to not have to yell. "You sound like a damn fool. How much bounty do you expect to earn when you come into a strange town and bray your business about so that anyone can hear?"

He took a look at Carrot and shook his head. "Take that beast over there by the peach trees. There's some good grass and it's not as muddy as down by the river."

"Listen, Bula, was it? Did you stop to consider that a lot of folks might consider Orcs to be the evil of the world? Your 'esteem' means little here. What is it you think you know about our problems?"

He folded his arms in front of his chest, scowling at the sisters. He wore no badge or sign of any official office, but apparently had elected himself as the spokesperson for this town and wasn't about to scurry off and hide until he was satisfied that these green-skinned brutes weren't going to cause trouble.

As Leshy lead the donkey off to the side of the town's dirt-packed "square", she would notice that the reason the grass near the peach trees was so pleasant was because it had been tended lovingly. And the reason for this was several fresh mounds of dirt. New graves, all of them small, all of them marked with crude headstones and decorated with small toys and mementos of the tiny children who lay underneath.

The sudden departure and disappearance of all the townsfolk bewildered and frustrated Bula for a moment. She turned to the others who shrugged in confusion at the reaction. Then it came that a man who was seemingly in charge of the village came over… An old grizzled warrior well past his prime in life. Bula just stared at him, not saying a word as the old warrior spoke. She took in every word, but she didn’t seem to be fazed by the words of the old human. She held up a finger and gave a grunt. She looked towards Leshy who was leading the donkey away then back to the man. “Listen human. If they had thought we were here to be evil and kill them they would have ran away at first sight of us. It was obvious something is plaguing this village and with the way everyone is still socializing I give much doubt to it being a plague or some kind of illness.”

She stepped around him looking him over from head to toe as if sizing him. “Next thing I need to say is that you don’t tell me to shut my yap. If i want to yap I will yap you will just have to get over it.” She stops as she gets back in front him and drops her axe into the ground placing her hands on her hips and looking him right in the eyes. “Now, do you want me and my sister’s help? Or do you wanna shut my yap? Cause if you don’t want our help, and you’re not looking to brawl with a Orc… then we’ll water our donkey and get out of here and leave you to your suffering,”

The other sisters stood to the back grinning a bit before they began going through the saddle bags Morka in particular began to pull the hunting net from the bags as well as the long links of chain, while Pasho began to pull out the tent to set up, which was painted with Orc Symbols and scenes of Orcs hunting monsters including dragons.

Bula raised her brows waiting for him to answer as powerful orc muscles bulged and strained against leather straps that held on her armors and against the clothing she wore underneath as her hair framed her face in a way that made her seem all the more dangerous as it shadowed her features.

Djoth shook his head for a moment, trying to puzzle through Bulla's weird logic. Somewhere off in the trees, hidden by the woods, a woman wailed broken-heartedly, but the sound was quickly silenced.

"We've got our problems here, same as any village. But if you're looking to collect a bounty there isn't a soul here who would hire you." Mostly because it was highly probable that a shabby backwoods hamlet like this was populated by people who had reason to not be in nicer places like Ebonfort. Likely, half the people here would have fetched a bounty if dragged off to the right place, which was why Djoth thought Bula was less than wise for announcing her intent right off the bat.

"A dog who yaps all day and all night scares all the game away and no one takes it seriously. It's the quiet hound that knows when to stay silent who catches the most game," Djoth said sagely, not really expecting a brute like Bula to understand the proverb.

"No one asked for your help, and no one gave you permission to set up camp in the middle of our town either. Now you can flex and scowl at me all you like, but I don't see any reason why four orcs would be less trouble than what we're already dealing with. Especially three Orcs and one Orc who doesn't know when to shut her yap!"

Either Djoth was suicidal or he was confident in his skill with his sword, but either way he was armed and apparently not going to let Bula's glare scare him off. Just then, a much younger boy with black curls appeared from behind one of the dusty shop-fronts nearby and hurried to Djoth's side, whispering something in his ear. Djoth scowled more, though this time there was something thoughtful in the frowning expression.

"Is that so, boy?"

The lad nodded, glancing at the Orcs with mixed wonder and fear.

Djoth harrumphed and there was a long pause in which he processed whatever he'd been told.

"You may not be very smart about going after bounties, but ya said you hunt monsters?" His demeanor hadn't changed, suspicion dripping from every pore, but whatever the boy had said had given the four Orc-women a second chance with the stubborn old Screamer.

The onslaught of berating Bula and her sister’s continued and she just continued to get more sour by the minute. Her sisters were lifting the gear free of the bag and continued to straighten the objects before heading over to the peach trees with them where they began to open up the tent and such to prepare for the night. Bulas hand tightened further into fists her dark green skin flexing and turning white with the tension in her muscles. She snorted slightly at the shutting the yap comment and just growled. “You’re just some racist human like all the rest, thinking we Orcs ain’t good enough to pay for honest work.” She turns and starts stalking back towards where her other sisters are grabbing up her axe and saddle bags. It was obvious she was very frustrated with the man Djolf about the entire situation and the belittling of her and her sisters.

She stopped for a moment as she heard tiny feet and the sound of whispers turning her head back to look at the man and the boy. She turned slowly raising a brow at the Is that so.

As Djolf asked her if they hunted monsters she slung the saddle bag back towards the camp her sisters were making up. She leaned on the axe handle as she planted the head into the ground and stared at him. “Yes hunting monsters happens to be our specialty.” She said with a smirk around her tusked teeth. Lifting the axe up she walekd towards the old grizzled man and took a deep breath.

“What kind of monster are we talking? Or are we talking about monsters? Either way… me and my sisters are excellent monster hunters, going after anything from wendigos, to dragons, even a bogart.”

Djoth couldn't have cared less if Bula thought he was racist. Likely, he was. But it didn't really matter. Some of the people who hadn't run to ground at the mention of the words 'bounty hunters' were starting to appear. Hesitant faces around the edges of what passed for a square. Some of them, like Djoth, were glaring at the Orcs for setting up their camp in the middle of town without even a 'by-your-leave', some were simply curious, and one or two even looked hopeful as they observed the crude paintings on the sisters' tent.

The scarred old Screamer was glancing around at the slowly gathering crowd, as though their very presence was some sort of silent communication, and he finally relaxed a little, eyeing Bula and her sisters with slightly more interest than dislike, though he clearly didn't trust them yet.

"You're right to notice there's been some trouble here. We're having trouble with a...creature. Something keeps making off with children in the night. Started about three months ago. If you're looking for work hunting down a child-killer, we may have a job for you. Set up your tent so we have a place to talk and I'll be back."

With that, the sword-wielder turned on his heel and limped slightly as he moved towards the crowd, speaking quietly with a trio of human women who looked especially grim. He shook his head and walked away with them into the stone miller's cottage, leaving the sisters to see to their camp while a few older boys watched them.

The fact that children were being taken wasn’t a surprise to her, it was often that monsters would target the young and vulnerable. Bula walked towards the camp tapping her chin as Leshy was starting to roast a skunk they had killed earlier that day. She was a master of deglanding skunks. Bula sat down on the foldable stools they had brought along and stared into the fire. She looked up at Morka and took a deep breath. “Seems we got one that comes in the night to kill children.” She picked up a stick and prodded at the fire. “Ideas?”

Pasho’s head raised up quickly and she chuckled. “Could be another tooth fairy. They like children. Remember that one we hunted in that village called VIsto?”

Bula’s hand came around and bopped Pasho. “There woudln’t be no bodies to bury if it were a tooth fairy now would there?” She prodded Morka with the stick and Morka looked up.

“Maybe.. A Tik tik? Or… A bastet.” She looks back down at the fire as she turned the skunk over and over again.

Bula sighed standing and heading into the tent where she removed her armor and stood there wearing only strips of cloth as she prepared to sleep before nightfall, but she would wait for Djoff to arrive. She picked up a horn and popped open the top smelling the old ale inside and began to drink it anyways.

Outside her sisters began to eat the cooked skunk leaving was left for Bula. Laughing and joking about their last job which had been rather easy, after all Centaurs tended to be brash and were often easily seduced by females of any race even Orcs.

Even if the orcs' tent hadn't been plopped rudely in he center of town, old Djoth would have been able to find the sisters by smell alone, following the greasy burned-hair-and-carrion stench of rotisserie skunk.

His limping shape, longsword strapped across his back with the familiarity of a lifetime of use, crossed the square towards the camp without any attempt at stealth or surprise. He came close enough to stand within the orange gleam of their campfire but no closer. Maintaining his distance wasn't something his demeanor would normally have predicted, but he hadn't come alone.

A woman was with him, short even for a human, her auburn hair a messy braid down her back and her deeply shadowed eyes downcast as she twisted her hands into the faded checkered apron tied around her waist. She was middle-aged, and somewhat portly as many women with children became as they got older.

"We came to speak to Bula," Djoth told the three younger sisters, stooping to drop a small wooden cask that he'd been carrying under his arm. The small barrel sloshed, sounding full.

The pair was silent until Bula appeared, Djoth surveying the camp and the Orcs with a shrewd stare, the woman watching the sisters at first but then glancing out into the trees as if there was something out there she feared more than four beastly green orcesses.

When Bula finally showed herself, Djoth eyed her lack of clothing with a smirk before he started to speak.

"If it were up to me you'd be setting up camp far away here tonight. Yeh've got a lot to learn about soliciting a small town for work." It was pretty clear that he wasn't at all confident about Bula's claims.

"But it ain't up to me." And he glanced down at the top of his companions head, pursing his stubbled lips. "This is Wyanna. Her two youngest boys both went missing earlier this year and she thinks she seen what took 'em."

"Not what, who!" Wyanna blustered, her voice surprisingly loud and unsurprisingly desperate. "It's that...man...that...animal-man. He can turn into a beast. He moved into the area two months before the first little boy..."

Her words were rushed and breathless, grief-stricken and desperate.

"I live just up the hill. He comes into town to buy food and arrows every few weeks. I ain't never seen him around my place until the day before my little Benjie..." She was forced to pause, stifling a sob. Djoth put his arm around her shoulder and patted her. Wyanna wiped her eyes with her apron and continued.

"I seen him walking through the trees, watching my boys play by the river. He didn't see me putting out my washing to dry. I didn't like the way he was watching the boys so I called them back to me. When he saw me he turned and ran. One minute he was a man, but then I swear the next minute there was only a dog running through the woods away from me."

Wyanna was frantic, desperate to be believed. Djoth shushed her somewhat succesfully as the woman stared at each tusked face in turn.

Djoth continued for her, distressed by Wyanna's grief but stoically providing her with a shoulder to cry on.

"She's the only one here that seen him come near any of the children who went missing. She has one boy left she's worried about." That seemed to suggest that Wyanna was the only reason Djoth wa willing to deal with the Orcs.

"The only name we know this man by is Slade. He's thin, sandy brown hair. It's a tricky situation because ain't no one actally seen him do anything wrong, so Brecker, the farmer Slade buys from, still wants his business. But the timing is suspicious. Ain't nobody seen Slade 'cept right before the kids go missin' and when their bodies come back." Wyanna sobbed especially loud at this and shook her had, eyes squinting as though to banish the painful memories.

"They turn up here by the river, dried up and sort of...drained-looking. Never seen anything like it. I've heard of were-people (he pronounced it "way-er") coming a bit mad but..." He shook his head and shrugged.

"Fact is, we'd rather someone else just made this problem disappear and I'm too old to go tromping through the woods." Djoth fished a crude leather purse out of his belt and dropped it with a tell-tale metallic jingle of good coin onto the small barrel, which he then nudged with his foot.

"There's good whiskey in that, and more than enough silver for the job.You get the rest after the job's done."

Wyanna seemed to collect her composure enough to add, "Please kill him. You'll find him in the valley where the river forks." She pointed upstream.

"There's some kind of old lodge in the thicker part of the woods, Slade might be staying there. Take a good half-day's hike. We sent a couple lads to check it out after the second kid went missing but they didn't come back."

Both humans waited for Bula's reply.

Bula eyed the two humans as she took a few more sips from the skin her hand and finally set it down and walked into the firelight.tapping her fingers on her thighs as she listened to the the stories of the creature and the times he would show up and disappear. She mulled over this for a moment looking to her sisters as they too seemed interested in the descriptions.

Ripping one of the legs off the rotisserie skunk Bula begins to chew the meat down to the bone and gives a nod. “I agree to killing your monster. Sounds like a Were creature of some kind.” She shifts slightly and points to the cask. “Leave there here. We will begin our trek for the Lodge tomorrow.” Turning her head towards Leshy she tilts her head. “Start making sure all our nets are packed properly… Weapons are sharpened, and some food is packed.”

She stood up and went back into the tent leaving the sisters to take care of the preparation for the next day. Bula stared at her axe reaching down and sliding her fingers against the edge of hte blade for a moment before sliding into her bedroll and pulling her blanket up, deciding it would be better to get some sleep before the hike the next day.

A scattering of light showers blew through the area in the depths of the night. The rain was gone the next day, leaving the morning overcast and humid. Everything felt slightly slimy as moisture clung stubbornly to every surface, and it lingered even as the hours past because there was not enough sun to burn the wetness away.

When he noticed the orcesses stirring in their camp, Djoth stumped over from where he had probably spent the night on sentry duty, watching them to make sure they didn't either cause trouble or try to run out on the job.

"And remember, no silver unless you bring proof that you've killed the guy." Either he was naturally overly-suspicious or the grumpy old man had been swindled before.

There was muttering on either side as the tiny town turned out to watch the orcs leave. There was an easy dirt path down to the river and along its muddy banks, but then that ended and the hunters were on their own. There wasn't anything particularly unusual about the forest. It just happened to be the kind of woods where the gaps between the trees were crowded with crunchy, noisy underbrush, mean thorns, and the mud underfoot was soft and sucked at their boots.

Game trails occasionally crossed their path as they headed in the general direction of the little valley, but four armed orcs made enough noise that few animals actually appeared.

The trip was not going to be too long, a half day at the most the villagers had said. Bula had made sure to pack lightly for the trip as they didn’t plan to stay out in the woods much tonight, and if they did they’d be on bedrolls. Besides considering what they were going to do once they got from the cabin, Bula was counting her steps and stopping every time she reached a thousand and taking a small knife and cutting a circle into the side of a tree with a number in it. “1…” Then “2…” then “3…”

Suddenly Leshy stopped and tilted her head “Bula. I see something over there.” Her hand raised and pointing towards a fallen log.

Pasho’s head turned and jogged over towards the log and dug around for a moment before standing up with a blue girl’s blouse and a bow. She moved over some rocks and got back on the path tossing them on the ground.

Bula tilted her head slightly and clicked her tongue for a moment. “Seems we are on the right path.” She looked up placing her hand on her forehead judging the position of the sun, and figuring they were near noon. She looked up the hill once more and shrugged at her pack and pulled her axe free setting it on her shoulder. “Just in case… Let’s be ready.”

The other sisters nodded and readied their weapons as they began heading up the hill once more. Bula in the lead she continued to further look out off the path and observe her surroundings, a few times she saw a bird fluttering by, or a fox sticking it’s head under roots off in the distance. ‘Normal forest life’ she thought to herself as she continued to count and mark trees. Then a rusttling noise came and she blinked a bit as something was making noise up ahead. “Morka. Get ready to fire.” Bula growled out in command.

Morka readied her crossbow and dropped to a knee as she prepared to fire her finger sliding over the trigger as she stared down taking aime ready to position her sights on whatever came into view. Then with a crack and a crunch a wild hog came wandering across the path and Morka lowered the crossobw with a sight as it was followed by three piglets.

Bula started laughing as the other sisters did as well at their own edginess.

Morka just shook her head with a grin and stood completely straight looking to the others. “Big bad pig was gonna eat us huh? Too bad we don’t have time to get us some pork. Would be a nice treat.”

Bula knew what Morka was hinting at, but she was all business right now. The task at hand was more important. “We’ll have time to go hunting later Morka. For now we focus on our job.”

SO they began walking again step by step they moved through the dust of the path ignoring the game trails regardless of the fact it meant fresh kills. Instead they chewed on jerky and biscuits occasionally taking a sip of their water as they moved.

The woods showed signs of occasional habitation the occasional remains of a burned out croft long since overgrown, a half of a wagon wheel, trees whose limbs had been neatly sawed off, the stumps healed but permanent. But other than the occasional rustle of native wildlife, the path through to the forested valley was uneventful.

Until Pasho walked face-first into a spiderweb because she was busy snacking on her beef jerky. The second-youngest orc sister flailed noisily, snatching the clinging strands from her face and where they had tangled neatly around her prominent tusks. The creepy-crawly sensation of a big nasty spider skittering around in her corn-rows didn't help, and the composure of Bula's small band shattered as the girls either tried (only partially successfully) to help, or nearly busted out of their leather from laughing and snorting too hard.

They had reached the edge of the murky forest, the trees more gnarled and ancient than closer to the river. The low branches were thick with fuzzy lichens and toadstools, festooned with clumps of gray moss. And in the gloom the dew-glittered strands of cobwebs clung to everything, the eight-legged denizens creeping along branches, waiting for tiny prey to blunder haplessly into their traps.
Something pale yellow in the roots of one of the older trees caught Pasho's eye and she seized it eagerly, partly to make up for her earlier silliness. "Look Bula, a child's toy sword." The unfinished wood hadn't yet faded with the work of the elements.

Everything that had happened so far seemed perfectly normal to Bula forests may hold dangers but they were often filled with the wonder of nature itself. The further you were from any towns or villages the less imprint they had on the surrounding landscape.

So every time they came across something that would be beloved by a child the more cemented the condemnation for this man was in Bula's mind. She stared at the toy sword for a moment then looked off the path a bit. We travel off the path. Ten steps. Keep the path in sight though and follow it. We just don't need to be out in the open. I feel we are close."

At the orders the Orcs left the path and began to move their way through the brush. Travel would be slower going but they would gain more of a element of surprise than if they had stayed on the road. Occasionally they would come across more clues, scraps of clothing, toys, and once what looked like a pillow though they couldn't say for sure. This did nothing to change their attitudes though, they had decided at the village that this beast would be killed.

It turned out that choosing to leave the trail worked out in Bula's favour, though moving through the gloomy woods was not easy. The trees became even darker in colour, their branches sprawling like massive vines, blocking out more and more of the light as the land sloped slightly down into the forbidding valley.

It didn't help that they kept having to pause to brush moss and spiderwebs out of their faces, their gear coated with the annoying stick strands. It seemed that the spiders liked the permanent shadows here.

The orcesses managed to keep quiet enough that after a while they could hear the steady crunch of footsteps on the path. Strangely, these sounds were not coming from in front of them, but from behind. Someone walking swiftly with more footsteps pattering irregularly beside.

"Let go of me! You're hurting...!" a child's voice wailed piteously through the trees. The footsteps shuffled briefly until the man could drag the youngster along a few more paces.

"I said keep quiet. You'll go where I tell ye', brat." The voice was cruel and unforgiving, a bit scratchy.

"But I want my mom!" The little girl sobbed and wailed again, and the pair broke into view.

The man Slade was tall but very thin, dressed in several layers of tattered clothes to make up for the obvious holes. His boots were mis-matched and too big for him, and most of the fingers of his knitted gloves were frayed open. He looked human enough, though his mousy brown hair was wild and unkempt, partly stuffed under a brimmed hat. His eyes looked yellow, but it was impossible for any of the orcs to tell if that was just jaundice or if he was more than he appeared the be.

His left hand was locked in a vice-like grip around the thin wrist of a black-haired, dark-skinned little human who couldn't have been more than seven or eight. She wore a simple smock dress that was in much better shape than Slade's attire, even though the bottom hem was dirty with leaves and spiderwebs. The girl tried to twist her arm free with a grunt and when that didn't work she simply did what many children did and sagged into a heap, screaming.

But Slade had been through this routine before. Hoisting the girl up onto her toes he reached out and slapped her hard across the face. "I said, shut. up." The danger in his tone seemed to penetrate and the although the girl continued to cry even harder, she started walking on her own two feet.

Heading in the same direction as the Orcesses, Slade hurried on his way, using a broken and rusty blade in his right hand to cut a path through the sticky webs.

Bula held up her hands and the orc sisters went completely stock still. They watched slowly with discerning eyes as they held the man tight in their gaze as he drug the little girl. Bula glowered a bit and tapped her fingers gently into the dirt as to keep from making any noise as she crouched. ‘Coward preying on children. Should pick a fight with a real warrior.’ She stood as he disappeared from sight on the path followed by the other sisters. “Follow.. Wait till he feels at ease in his own territory. Then..” Bula looked to Morka. “You will fire a bolt at his leg. A silver one preferably. You never know with these monsters. Then Pasho, Leshy you two throw the net and provide any backup, Then i’m gonna go in with my axe to knock his ass out or kill him.”

They all nodded in agreement with Bula and she started to move through the brush once more following the path that the man had left behind, easily keeping track of the movements due to the way he was crashing through brush with his knife and pulling the girl with him. “Remember, we don’t need to save the human girl to get paid. The bounty comes first saving others second. If we can save her without losing our quarry we do, if she gotta die she gotta die. But we won’t kill her understood?” They nodded and they continued to travel quickly hoping to come upon him stopped so they could prep their trap to be sprung.

Tracking Slade turned out to be slightly trickier than Bula anticipated. Not because he was moving quickly or even especially stealthily, but as soon as they started to follow him he seemed to sense that something was wrong and paused occasionally, looking over his shoulders into the woods. As he lead them deeper into the gloom, the trail all but disappeared, and Slade was reduced to literally hauling the little girl over huge tree roots and fallen trunks by her wrist.

The gauzy curtains of spiderwebs grew more prevalent, the individual strands thicker and harder to break as the sisters moved through the woods, the eight-legged creatures scuttling creepily in the dim light, staring with lidless eyes at those who passed them by.

The wind and normal sounds of the wilderness faded, muffled by the stuffy mustiness of the forest. The orcs managed to maneuver their way through the gloomy place with great skill and were slowly but surely closing on their target, when a spider the size of a wolf dropped out of a tree onto Morka's head, hissing threateningly through the air-holes in its abdomen, snapping its glistening fanged mandibles towards her face. To her credit, Morka grimaced with horror but didn't cry out, using her impressive strength to push the eight-legged monstrosity off of her. Wedging her crossbow between herself and the massive black spider, she pulled the trigger, a silver crossbow bolt piercing a messy hole through the complicated arachnid thorax, blazing a sticky trail through the forest. Morka staggered back, a puncture wound in her neck that oozed with venom.

The spider died, but it did so slowly, it's partly furry and partly chitinous legs flailing around as it squealed like air being force through a tiny hole. Unfortunately, Slade heard the commotion and turned briefly, shooting a furious glare in the direction of the orcs. But instead of facing them, he ran.

When Bula saw the spider bite Morka she grimaced heavily. The bolt flying through the spider and bring the man's attention to the brought a round of groans from the other three sisters. Seeing the man begin to flee Bula immediately stood. "Leshy you help Morka! Get that poison out of her! Pasho you come with me!"

Pasho and Bula took off through the brush ignoring thorny vines that tore across their skin or webs that wrapped around their limbs and bodies, the quarry was more important than comfort. Leshy on the other hand was dragging the blade of her axe in a set of gruesome Xs across the bite marks letting blood and poison pump from the wounds while Morka laid weakly.

With their weapons in hand Bula snorted loudly with each breath powerful muscles carrying her through the woods after the child killer. A branch came to block her path, but without missing a beat her axe swung cleaving the branch in twine and she continued on. The backside of the man could be seen in the distance for a moment before disappearing behind more trees. "Ya might as well stop now ya pink skinned bastard! Ya dead already, ya just don know it yet!"

Morka snarled loudly behind Bula and Pasho as the two sisters pounded after the kidnapper. Leshy's quick actions probably saved her life, but in the moment Morka didn't appreciatiate the jagged X's Leshy sliced into her neck. The orc's blood flowed clotted and sour out of her wounds with the venom.

Bula and Pasho gained on Slade, who was fighting the same rough terrain as they were and also hindered by the little girl, who stumbled and fought him every step of the way, shrieking and giving away his position. The two orcesses would have no trouble catching up, even as they had to scramble over huge roots and fight through dark vines and even more cobwebs. The woods around them became even gloomier, and up ahead the ruined shape of a decrepit old lodge lurked in the permanent twilight.

Slade felt the orcs closing in behind him and turned, throwing the little girl down into the roots of a tree. His body blurred, face elongating even as he growled, the sound changing from the aner of a man into the vicious snarl of a beast. Sandy-brown fur sprouted over his body and his limbs lengthened, muscles rippling to fill out a bit more and tearing through the already poor quality clothes he wore. "Stay back!" he threatened through sharp wolflike fangs. "Come closer and you'll kill her!" The Were had gained at least a foot, doglike ears poking out from under his hat. He was still thin and rangy-looking, not a wolf but not a dog either. There was a panicked, desperate look in his eye, the kind of look that Bula would recognize as a creature gearing himself up to fight to the bitter end.

Bula and Pasho both came to a complete stop staringa thte man began to change into some kind of beast that had tossed the girl aside. The threats to kill the girl disgusted Bula, but she couldn’t let the life of one child interfere with the destruction of a beast that could kill so many more. She looked at Pasho for a moment and knew they were both thinking the same thing. ‘If the girl dies, we just tell everyone we found him standing over her body, then we killed him.’ Pasho began moving to the side brandishing her weapon as if preparing to attack, her eyes staring right at the face of the were creature.

Bula stood where she was, her mind clearing as she thought about what was going to take place. In order to save the child she would have to attack without remorse, without a concept of mercy in her mind. Then there we was, her thoughts empty except for the need to end this monster’s life. She had brought herself down to a animalistic level, her enemies level when he committed the murders he did. She rushed forward the muscles beneath her armor undulating as she moved, her eyes filled with a fiery murderous rage as she closed the distance between her and Slade.

Powerful arms lifted the axe bringing it in line with her body and then slightly back giving her a arc to bring the powerful two handed silver weapon over and down with. Bula was focused on her target, her eyes centered on Slade’s collar bone where his neck met shoulder. Green knuckles took on a pale hue with the tightness she gripped the haft with before coming within a few feet of the child murderer. Powerful biceps suddenly tensed and pressed against the skin of her arms as she brought her arms down and around the axe following a similar path as it moved to crash into Slade and tear him asunder under it’s powerful weight and sharp edges that were so moved by the Orcess that wielded it.

As she took the swing thoughts flooded into her mind. How she had hoped that due to Slade transforming that he would be taken unaware, how she knew that if her attack did not strike true this would turn out into a melee with a beast of which she did not know the skill or strength of. How that she or her sister could be severely injured or killed. The child slipped in for a moment of the fact that the young girl could die, but Bula was less concerned with the human life. A roar escaped her lips as they curled back from the protruding tusks of her lower jaw and she finished the movement of swinging the axe and it ended up hanging at her side still held in both hands as she looked up to survey the damage she had done.