South of the forest, sitting on the edge of the river was a small cottage, not particularly special in any way. On the contrary, it was far from the highest quality craftsmanship, but was completely serviceable. Simple stone brick and mortar made up the walls, with a peaked slate roof that lead up to a chimney, happily pumping away fumes into the air. Within, in the fireplace that the chimney led was a metal grille, on which sat a few rather healthy-looking fish, de-boned and almost ready to be eaten.

The cottage was only one room, so the heat radiated easily from its source, warming everything nicely. A simple bed sat at the opposite end, though the mattress and blankets themselves seemed to be of the highest quality. As did the chest sitting at the foot of the bed, along with the contents, with shirts and trousers that had thread counts beyond counting.

Closer to the centre of the room was a table. This, while also not the best craftsmanship, was highly polished and looked very serviceable for whatever purpose, which was currently papers and notes and a large map of the land. Over all this, a tall man hovered, eyes darting.

Sure, he considered himself out of the game. Had been for years, now. But when rumors started to spread, and when he found that there was a seed of truth to all of them, he descended upon the story-tellers like a wolf on a flock of sheep, all waiting unsuspectingly for the predator to strike.

And the predator worked hard, indeed. The seeds of truth slowly coalesced into a believable pile of evidence, interviews with witnesses and victims. And in the centre of it all was the name Kurokuma. A strange name, to Tarvos at least. He was raised a noble, and kept away from most things different. Thankfully it hadn't been permanent, and he continued to learn more every day. But this was still an unknown name to him. Not one on the bounty list, last he checked. Mind, he hadn't seen the official bounty list for years, and for all he knew there was a new set of men on it.

But Kurokuma...that was a name. And a name was all Tarvos needed to track him down. Turning towards the fire, he grabbed the fish off and ate them quickly, impatient to begin his adventure. He filled up a rucksack with some salted meat he had on hand, along with some breads, and a canteen of water. Lastly, his trusty axe, that had helped him fell many trees to provide the good, but maybe not the best, wood plank floors.

And Tarvos was off, the cottage retreating behind him.