Within town as the sun started to set screams could be heard through out the streets. Back in dark alley behind the inn was a bloody mess. Body parts could be seen strewn around the area. Many of them adult men, though a few of them were elf women as well. The sounds of a struggle was heard as well as blood curdling screams. Within all of this screaming was a young woman, two of her fingers, the index and pointer finger were chewed off. She was still breathing though it was ragged.

"Help me." The girl said with desperation in her eyes. The girl was on the ground leaning against a wall just barely staying awake. Her white hair was a bit out of place both otherwise she seemed to like any other woman. The girl also had blood on more than just her hand, some was splattered on her form the corpses around her.

What seemed like a hulking shadow could be seen fleeing the scene, disappearing behind another alley.

The Storyteller had found himself a nice bench in town and had sat himself there to talk the ears off of anyone who would listen, be they on the street, in his head, or beyond the grave. He had just finished telling the tale of The Cardsharps and The Crone when he heard the screaming. 'Well, Storyteller' the voice said 'It's been fun, but I've got to run. See you soon!'. With that said, the cold faded away, leaving only the warmth in his left hand that signified Erudessa's presence.
"We haven't even left yet, and people are already screaming" The Storyteller said to Erudessa as he stood up and took off in the direction of the screams.

The Storyteller arrived just in time to see the hulking shadow flee the scene. He would have gone after it had he not noticed the girl. Within moments, The Storyteller was at the girl's side, a healing spell already forming in his left hand. "I've got you" The Storyteller said as he cast his spell on her wounds "You're going to be alright, don't worry".

The Storyteller had found himself a nice bench in town and had sat himself there to talk the ears off of anyone who would listen, be they on the street, in his head, or beyond the grave. He had just finished telling the tale of The Cardsharps and The Crone when he heard the screaming. 'Well, Storyteller' the voice said 'It's been fun, but I've got to run. See you soon!'. With that said, the cold faded away, leaving only the warmth in his left hand that signified Erudessa's presence.
"We haven't even left yet, and people are already screaming" The Storyteller said to Erudessa as he stood up and took off in the direction of the screams.

The Storyteller arrived just in time to see the hulking shadow flee the scene. He would have gone after it had he not noticed the girl. Within moments, The Storyteller was at the girl's side, a healing spell already forming in his left hand. "I've got you" The Storyteller said as he cast his spell on her wounds "You're going to be alright, don't worry".

The warmth in the ring began to turn icy cold, followed by a burst of ethereal energy enveloping his body. The ring had formed a protective shield around him.

<Snipped quote by rush99999>

The warmth in the ring began to turn icy cold, followed by a burst of ethereal energy enveloping his body. The ring had formed a protective shield around him.

"I appreciate your concern, Erudessa" The Storyteller said as he watched the healing spell do its thing "But you needn't worry about me. The creature that did this has fled".

The girl looked up at the Story teller with inquisitive eyes. "W-Who are you talking to?" She said as her hand stopped bleeding. Bone was visible from the wound and bits looked like they were regrowing already. "Ow." She said as her fingers twitched. The rate at which her fingers were healing though seemed to be far faster than any healing spell would allow. Her hair was already out of place, but now the rate her healing seemed to be too. Though maybe this was just a fluke who knew.

"Who are you?" The girl asked looking up at him weakly.

"W-Who are you talking to?" The Storyteller heard the girl he was healing ask.
"My guardian angel" The Storyteller replied. Although the faster than usual healing rate didn't escape his notice, The Storyteller simply assumed that it was just Erudessa lending a hand.
"Who are you?" the girl asked.
"Most people tend to call me The Storyteller" The Storyteller answered.

Receiving the order from the named party leader to spend the night indulging in merriment was as good of a reason as Kaite needed to assume the meeting was over. Since the soldier salary had yet to be provided, she was left to assume that it would be on her own dime. While it seemed a few stayed for questions, Kaite took her leave with a flourish of their tattered cloak to throw it back around herself.

She spent a good few hours at the field where she freed her horse and wondering if she could get it to come back since walking would be arduous, and the idea of sharing a horse made her feel weird. A few kids had shown up during the meeting and appeared to be playing with wooden swords, acting out a battle against a few dummies. It was all imagination and childplay, but Kaite found it funny how they tried throwing their weapons and doing other silly moves like spinning into a melee with the inanimate figures.
Their innocence was certainly admirable, given the state of the world right outside the gates, and the thoughts drew her back to the ring which she removed from her pack. She turned it around between clawed gauntlet digits. "A wishing ring...how quaint" she muttered before sighing and clearing her throat with a small cough. "Eru? I wish I knew what to do with the day I have in this-" Kaite began, likely about to go down the road of insulting the city before a small voice shouted "Look out!" a second before she was sent reeling from one of the swords cracking against her helmet.

"Gawd! Look what you did!" One of the children shouted at the other as they ran over to Kaite who was knocked down from her sitting position as a result of being clocked. "You saw it! The wind caught it!" Another pleaded in their defense as the sword seemingly arced through the air to seek out the knight who reached over to grab the wooden sword. "Grrrah! I d'n care which of ye threw it! At least pretend t'know what you're doing, y'little brats!" Kaite barked in her inelegant dialect, standing up and running a finger over the dent in the metal before it simply popped back into place. Noting that the armor had fixed itself into place from the strike which none of the kids could have thrown hard enough to inflict, she sighed and walked over to the kids who'd begun to take steps back as she approached, offering hasty apologies and claims of not knowing how it happened.
"Look..." Kaite began, her temper easing as she remained unharmed as per the armor's design, "...swords are fun, but ye have to be careful with them. You could hurt someone that you do not want to" her tone threateningly implying that she was still sore over the endeavor, though she handed the wooden sword back to the child who obviously lost it.

They nervously edged forward to take the instrument back and one of the kids in back looked down at their own glorified stick and back to Kaite before asking, "Y-you are a knight, right?" The question seemed a bit silly as Kaite was clad in armor, obscured by a cloak that may have made her seem a bit of the hoods-and-helmets rougish type, but it was a question none the less. "Yeh, and you're what, ten?" Kaite spat, the wit being rude and childish enough for one of the kids in back to stifle a chuckle. She felt like a bit of a jerk for being that way to kids, but they didn't seem to have the mature sensitivities of the rest, her kind of people.
"W-well!" the kid came back to say, "Maybe...you could show us? -How to fight?"
The question took Kaite aback, and if only the kids could see the bewilderment on her face as she looked down at the ring in her hand. With a scoff and a laugh, she put the ring away and started walking back to the setup, patting the kid who spoke on the shoulder. "Yeh, why not. If it'll keep y'all from makin' fools of yourselves" she chirped, the kids excitedly chasing after her.

The next few hours involved various stretching exercises, stance explanation and slow-paced duels for her students to get a feel for the technique before drilling performance on the dummies...just like Kaite's training with her mother back home. However, the tactics were a bit shady since it involved a psychology lesson as well as the sharing of a common rule shared by Ispar's guard: 'pain and the threat of pain is often just as effective as a lethal strike, and often easier'. With this, the kids were irresponsibly taught about kneecapping and knuckle-cracking...with a few of the unruly types earning bruised knuckles from the supposed slow-paced duels getting out of hand. Kaite was certain to give them an earful about taking it seriously. Though they were kids, she still managed to keep their attention well enough to explain wolf-pack tactics, since they were in a group and it quickly devolved into a sort of game of soccer where the kids had to work together to get one of the dummy's heads past Kaite. Needless to say, they hadn't anticipated her reflexes and only won when she convincingly pretended to twist an ankle during a juke.

The sun began to set and the kids were exhausted. Kaite was intent on leaving to find lodging for the night, but her quick reply was responded to with a shout from one of the kids. "Same time tomorrow!?" the words came, stopping the knight in her tracks. "I have a mission from the council. I'm...not sure I'll be back" she said, back turned to the children as she pulled up her hood. There was a tense moment of silence, Kaite waiting for a few seconds before moving to take a step only to be stopped once more by a call of "Wait!"
She turned around, assuming an impatient stance with a hand on her hip.

"Could you...show us something?" They asked, a question that earned no response save for a breeze catching the cloak that billowed like feathers. "You never touched your sword...c-can you..." another kid asked, looking over to the dummies who were a bit worse for wear at this point. Kaite took a moment for dramatic effect before reaching back to draw the full long sword to a chorus of easily impressed gasps. "Just stand back" she ordered with an annoyed huff, shrugging off her pack. While she didn't know what could impress the kids at first, a thought of a trick she developed while rolling with a few bandits shortly after arriving to the mainland came to mind.

"Holy shit, Jericho!" The man laughed, wiping a bit of splatter from his face and clapping along with the rest while I rose from my kneeling stance. "Waaaait for it!" I barked before quickly standing, spinning the sword.

The kids watched with wide eyes as the two halves of the dummy's head sailed through the air. Kaite stood with her sword held aloft and back to the mess, the setting sun glinting amber rays from the polished blade. Sweeping the implement of destruction to the side, she cast off any lingering stuffing and gave the sword a twirl between her fingers before returning it to the sheath on her back in one swift motion.

The children's imagination raced as their eyes went from the dummy's splayed open chest to the halves of its head and then back to the body as it creaked and messily fell in two. "There ya go...one dead bandit" she lied, the actual story being far less noble. Regardless the kids ate it up and cheered as hard as they could, rushing to collect the remains and try to imitate what they'd just seen...a reenactment of her dealings with her first bountyhunter.
Kaite had already begun walking away as the chants "Kaite! Kaite! Kaite!" roared behind her. She lifted her sword arm to the side, clutching her midnight-black gauntlet to a fist, giving it a shake before opening to offer a small wave. Behind the visor, a stern expression softened with a slight smirk as even the voices had quieted. Pulling the ring out once more to look down at it, Kaite flipped it like a coin before returning it to the pack with a satisfied sigh. While she didn't trust things like magic or charms, a warmth in her chest after hanging out with the kids made her feel good inside; turning something ugly into something amazing easily replaced the memory in her mind of the poor slaughtered boy.

@Hawlin
The shadow of something huge suddenly stepped in her way.

It was an orc, and one of the biggest orcs she'd ever laid eyes on. Rippling muscles pulsated underneath his olive-green skin, and his face, or what was left of it, held the bemused expression of one who had seen far too much in life and thought it ridiculous. He picked Kaite up by her chestplate and pulled her within a few inches of his face.

"Mmm. Yes, you're the one she wanted," he murmured aloud to himself. He set her down and crossed his arms. "I'm Gorman. You must be Jericho Kaite, I presume? You're smaller than I thought you'd be."

@Thinslayer

Closing her eyes while she walked through the town, her hand felt around at the impression of her coin purse in her pack, trying to guess how much money she had. Such things rarely occurred to her, and sleeping under trees, bathing in rivers and hunting for dinner was free. Being in town and obligated to behave brought back such quandaries as trusting someone else's cooking and assuming locks on doors were sturdy.

Before she knew it, a massive hand clutched her armor through the cloak and tabard to lift her from her feet. The feat, alone, was impressive since Kaite couldn't possibly be light while clad in armor and toting gear.
Surprisingly, she didn't react to being lifted, still on her 'best behavior' and seeing the provocation as not entirely being worth her time. However, the mention of being 'the one she wanted' brought to light a unique issue that she wasn't thrilled with. People knowing where you were had a way of spreading once it became a thing. A messenger with a letter, no doubt from the council. All it took was a determined set of eyes for the whole damn continent to know who she was and where she was going.

'Best behavior' held her back from one of her favorite lines to respond to assuming statements like the one involving her height. '-and you're awfully talkative for someone with a broken jaw' followed by a headbutt often got the point across, though Kaite was curious what the reason behind being accosted was since she didn't know of any orc that had business with her.
"Tall tales precipitate high expectations. What do you want, Gorman?" Kaite skeptically spat, lifting a hand to brush herself off after being set down. Her knowledge of elves made an orc's presence within the walls interesting, though she didn't share in elven prejudice due to her hereditary stature.

Xen leaned further into the map, committing rivers, streams, roads and hidden paths to memory as Sadron began pointing to key locations. The only way north is through a pass cut into the mountains, but the road there is just as perilous. However, Xen had just the experience against an overwhelming force. His eyes peered up to Sadron the amber of his eyes dancing as the light of the fireplace hit the iris. "I see what you intend. You should have come to me sooner."
Xen pointed toward the iron mine to the west of the hill, resting on the border of a forest. He knew what kind of tactics would need to be employed for a successful engagement. Surprise was paramount and there was no telling how deep the Dwarves have dug for the rich ore that littered beneath their feet. If the Orc Horde had need of these materials they would have to find it elsewhere, and having a plant so close to the Hill was dangerous indeed. This will be a game of shadows and blood. Cut off an army from its supplies and it will wither, in time, but also grow more dangerous. He only hoped this impromptu squad would be up for the challenge.
"I would advise placing all of your guards on alert, and doubling the posts. We will choke their supplies here... here... and here as we make our way west before cutting north. This will give you some breathing room until you can properly fortify the surrounding areas." Xen pulled back and rubbed his chin contemplatively. He chuckled lightly at a thought, turning to Sadron with a perked brow, "Tell me, where in the Hells did you find such a group of misfits? Surely there were oth-" Xen was cut off by a scream, his head snapping to the side. His hand instinctively grabbed the staff at his side and he limped hurriedly towards the door.

He noticed several guardsman running toward the source of it and he fell behind them, cutting through the courtyard and slipping into the alleys of the city. There was a distinct difference in palatable taste between the two places. The Hill was marvelous of a structure with walls polished to perfection and the sun's light dancing gently across its architecture. It was, for all intents, a remarkable sight to behold. Yet, the city, as with most densely populated areas, was stale. Buildings upon buildings, packed together like sardines stifled the air. Smoke lingered from wood fireplaces of different businesses and homes. Xen hated the city for this reason. Rats in a maze, he felt. A few twists and turns later and they came upon the Storyteller and the woman. At first, the guards moved to apprehend the man, but quickly saw that he was mending, not harming.
People began to slowly slink out of their hovels, clutching their breasts and praying to whatever gods they desired. Xen saw the gore, splayed across the stone walls and floors. The attack was random. This was a peasant girl. No one of importance, surely. So why here? This was out of the way. The beast made it a point to cause a spectacle, but in an alley where few would see. Xen's eyes shot open suddenly, grabbing the nearest peasant he could find. "You! Did you see what happened? Where did the man responsible for this go?!" The peasant stammered unable to articulate proper words. Xen spat and pushed the man away from him, going to the next person he happened to see before a woman pointed down the alley.

"There, suh! I saw... something run o' dat way!" The woman was shivering with fright. "It wa' nah' but human. Something monsterous, suh!" Xen looked down the alley way and turn toward the Storyteller. "You. Come with me. Leave the girl with one of the guards." He motioned to one of the guards before signaling the others to follow. "Spread out and travel in pairs. Track down this beast." Xen twirled and hurried down the alley, every limp accompanied by the click of his staff.

@Hawlin
The half-elf opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out for several seconds. "Tall tales precipitate high expectations," she remarked at last. "What do you want, Gorman?"

Gorman scratched his chin. "So, uh, the Captain figures that you don't much like elves, and she was wondering if you'd like to join us orcs instead. The pay is really good, and you'll still be fighting the Warlock. Plus, I'm a really big fan of yours. She tells us stories about you and your friends, and it's a real honor to finally meet you. Please come with us? She'll be sooo tickled to have you in her warband."

Gorman folded his hands and widened his eyes. This giant orc was truly, genuinely pleading with her!

As the girl heard talk of going after the figure that ran away her eyes seemed to shoot open. "P-Please, I don't want to be alone... I'm afraid that it will come back for me. I-It seemed like the kind of creature that wouldn't leave any victims, but if you do find it..." The girls eyes seemed to now show a look of what seemed to be a mix of desperation and vengeance. "It was so vicious, so h-hideous, it may be best to kill it onsite. Not give it a chance to run away." This girl really wanted to creature dead.

"I-I'm Vert by the way." The girl said finally introducing herself. This girl had been through so much more than she was letting on though. As she spoke her stomach could be heard grumbling. As if to change her attitude then she looked into the story tellers eyes with a look of what seemed to be longing. Behind the veil of everything else though her mouth showed something else entirely. A small glint of sharp teeth could be seen, though it was subtle showed what could have been her own blood in between the teeth.

The figure in the meantime had been running for quite awhile now but had run itself into another ally way. This time it was behind what seemed like a magic shop. It run into a bucket of some kind of dust. This dust seemed glow around the figure giving it a much more frightening appearance of having horns of a reddish glow along with talons out of the hand also glowing red.

@Thinslayer

Years of experience tracking the beasts of his lands, fallen before him in shambles. Had it really been that long since Ventus had been across Fellmore? The air stung his nostrils, dry and tainted with the blood of his brothers, long expired and robbed of its essence. Much like his fate, Fellmore was seemingly without hope, and doomed to an eternity in darkness. How could he have been so stupid? He didn't account for the ashen landscape dulling his senses, or the weather to reveal his path. Subterfuge and critical advantages, his two most deadly weapons, were stripped from him before the battle had even begun. Just like he'd always said, strike first, strike once. Ventus did not often strike second, and rarely escaped such circumstances without a parting memory in the form of frayed flesh.

Ungrog grunted something in his direction. Ventus ignored it, still sizing up the war band that had cornered him so profusely. At least 60 men, probably a lot more, and all armed. Orcish warriors, though brutal and dull, were more than a match for him in such tightly packed numbers. His agility and precision meant nothing, but that didn't mean he was about to lie down and accept death like a dog at the hands of Ungrog, that miserable neanderthal. Ventus looked towards the chieftain with a nervous thirst stabbing at this back of his throat. 'I could kill 20, perhaps 25' Ventus thought, picking his targets carefully, with Ungrog among them. He gently rapped at the top of his kilt with his left hand, feeling for the base of a blade he treasured dearly. 172 confirmed kills, his Ebony dagger, forged for the purpose of silent and seamless murder. Assassination. Blood slipped off its onyx surface like oil, leaving the blade clean after every death. Just how many throats could he slit before Ungrog or one of his pathetic minions violently brought their weapons into his own flesh?

'23, most certainly. Perhaps more. An unsatisfying end, without honor'

Ventus sighed and looked up to Ungrog, flattening his left palm against the hilt of his weapon. "Just who do I betray with my actions? Uprooting villainous scum from pedestals of power, albeit for soaked gold. Is that not a product of my allegiance to the people who know no freedom or joy? Spare me your biased conjecture, brute. I may die here, but I will take my fair share of justice, right out of your hide," Ventus spat, haphazardly. The moment an Orc lost its rational was the moment his heart tripled in size. Major arteries swelled, blood pumped at an alarming pace, and with a few careful slices, a berserk Orc would bleed out ten times faster than usual. Such a simple plan B when dealing with simple fools, but was Ungrog just as feeble as the hundreds that followed him or his cause? It didn't matter, death was moments away. Ventus was just eager to earn it.

@XenoCyanide @Cuccoruler

The Storyteller had just finished healing the girl's wounds when the leader of his group addressed him "You. Come with me" Xen said "Leave the girl with one of the guards".
"P-Please, I don't want to be alone" The Storyteller heard the girl say as he watched Xen boss about some other guards before taking off in hot pursuit of the creature "...I'm afraid that it will come back for me. I-It seemed like the kind of creature that wouldn't leave any victims, but if you do find it..." the girl's change in vocal tone lifted 1 of The Storyteller's eyebrows "It was so vicious, so h-hideous, it may be best to kill it onsite. Not give it a chance to run away. I-I'm Vert by the way"
"Nice to meet you, Vert. I'll keep what you said in mind" The Storyteller said as the guard who Xen had designated as the 1 who would take over watching the girl approached "And don't worry, you won't be alone. The guards will make sure you're safe".

With that said, The Storyteller took off after Xen and the monster. It wasn't hard catching up with Xen due to his limp, but he wondered if catching up to the beast would be any easier. "Do you have any plans for taking this thing down?" The Storyteller asked as he drew level with Xen.

@tex
Ungrog didn't appreciate being ignored, much less belittled. "Take justice out on my hide? I'll skin you and tear you limb from limb first!" The orc raised his axe and howled a vicious war cry. On cue, the whole warband charged at him. The ground rumbled like an earthquake under their feet and his ears rang with the hurricane of their shouts. Their axes fell upon him one and all and whipped through the air at him with unbridled rage.

Such was their fury that the failed to notice another, larger warband forming on the hills behind them.

After about an hour of sitting on his knees, Tiberius lay back on the soft grass to get comfortable. He was very tired and this was possibly the last day for a long time before he could sleep within safe borders. So without much restlessness, and even though he was still wearing his armor, he fell asleep without much trouble. It was quite an odd sight for anyone passing by, to see a figure clad in armor from head to toe, simply sprawled out under a tree sleeping. He was never disturbed and slept for much of the day without dreaming in the slightest. He never really dreamed in the first place and if he did, there was usually something that was stressing him out and he couldn't relax. In High Elven country however, he couldn't feel at more peace anywhere else.

Then a scream broke that peace.

He didn't fully comprehend it at first, but it managed to wake him up slightly. He blinked twice, trying to figure out and remember where he was, then another scream broke the twilight and everything came back to him. He quickly got up and grabbed his sword, somebody was in trouble and he had to help. All thoughts from earlier fled his mind as his senses took over and he began to run in the direction of the screams. His red cloak flapped about him as he took great strides into the town. It was his job- No, it was his sworn duty to protect people and by the sounds of the screaming, he hoped he wouldn't be too late.

Sadly, Tiberius arrived late to the scene and what he saw was a crowd of people huddled around an alleyway. He pushed through quietly, but due to his height, he could see well before he made it the bodies or what was left of them. It made his blood boil, he had failed these innocents, whose blood now lined the street. Behind his great helm, his expression was one of anger mixed with remorse. He noticed a white haired girl leaning against the wall, covered in blood and being tended to by a guardsmen. He felt like he should say something, but when he opened his mouth no words came. He glanced at her instead before spinning around and departing through the crowd. Whatever had done this couldn't have gotten far and he was willing to bet it was some type of beast.

With that in mind, he began to track the creature down. His grip tightened on his sword as he thought about what he could have done differently to help those people. Perhaps if hadn't been sleeping or had just been in town...He sighed angrily, knowing full well there was nothing he could have done to help them. But now, he wanted to slay the creature personally.

With everyone taking the time to rest after the meeting before heading out on their quest, Ivan decided to head to the inn that his friend Noire was staying at. The streets were bare for the most part, save for one alleyway that was crowded with people and guards alike. Something must've happened as Ivan could make out Tiberius running out of the crowd. With a warrior like Tiberius checking it out, Ivan felt like he would get in the way a bit so he continued to the inn.

Upon arriving at the inn, Ivan called for his fellow knight. "Noire? You here?" He waited for a response, he had so many things that he had to tell his friend about the meeting.

@Darkmoon Angel
Noire was indeed here at the inn, but he seemed preoccupied with a cloaked stranger in a remote corner of the dining room. They were hunched over and talking in hushed voices. Upon seeing Ivan, he got up to greet him while the cloaked figure disappeared into the shadows.

"Ivan! How did the meeting go, man? Did you get to meet the pretty girl elf?"

"Heh... About that... The meeting was... Bittersweet..." Ivan started off slow but soon got to explaining what happened during the meeting. "... And we don't know if Erudessa is dead or not... But for the most part it is true that this Warlock defeated her... The meeting was meant to gather me and a group of others together to stop this Warlock... It would be an understatement to call this guy bad... We humans and the elves are the only ones who have a chance at stopping him." He hoped that all this information didn't fly over Noire's head, it was a lot to take in.

"By the way... Who was that cloaked person you were just speaking to?" Ivan couldn't help but ask, it felt rather suspicious to him.

Kaite honestly didn't have anything against wood elves or really anyone. The posh aristocracy and 'holier than thou' demeanor that those with power dragged behind them stank with hypocrisy. This is what she truly hated. The offer to join the orcs was enticing, though, as the idea of setting off with her own means to take down the warlock in step with the supposed savages that the elves sought to crush tickled her.
Darkly, she hadn't intended on succeeding in regards to the whole Warlock situation which left her at odds the longer she thought about it. Where the elves had their lineage and guarded secrets, a single man had risen to challenge them and upturn the land upon itself.
Maybe she could get a few answers before bringing his head back for the elves. It would certainly shut them up about claims of defection.

Hesitating while deliberating, Kaite came back to ask "And, now...would you goofs be th'ones raiding villages and enslaving townsfolk?" As it was, Kaite had sworn off banditry (for what such a claim was worth), and the concern about a certain band of orcs threatening the cute snowglobe of elven hierarchy made Gorman's presence a bit convenient for her taste.