The small council chambers were abuzz with chatter. Many nobles sat around the large table that sat in the center of the room, surrounded by windows and bookshelves. Those invited chatted amongst themselves, some giving casual greetings, some caught up on recent events while others sat in silence.

A hush befell the room as the king entered, escorted by two royal guards. The guards took their post in the doorway as the king took his seat at the head of the table. There was a moment of silence as Gustavo surveyed the room.

"Brother, you're looking fat as ever." The man to his right spoke up first, a grin planted on his face.

Gustavo shot a look of anger towards the man briefly before a smile broke through. He let out a hearty laugh before slamming his palm against the table, causing some nearby glasses to rattle. "Hugo, you ass." He chortled. "Just because you're my brother, doesn't mean that I can't still have you hanged."

The members of the small council laughed quietly to themselves before the king cleared his throat and silence fell once more. "My small council members...I wanted to discus our newly formed hunters guild." His eyes shifted to a man sitting at the far end of the table. "Captain Haalard, how fares this newest attempt at ridding my kingdom of monstrosities?"

Drystan sat straight in his seat, a stoic expression on his face. He paused a moment before answering the king. "We have made substantial progress, my liege. In the few moons since it's establishment, we have been able to take out a vampire coven, a large fish creature, as well as a number of forest creatures that roam nearby. I have a number of leads that I will be posting today for the members to begin hunting."

Gustavo nodded silently, his elbows rested against the table and his hands folded in front of his face. As Drystan finished speaking, he looked up again. "You have my gratitude for the work you have done thus far but I must remind you that monster attacks are still on the rise. If you need more men, I will devote as much coin as necessary to motivate them. I want my subjects to feel safe in their own homes." His eyes were stern as he stared down the table.

Drystan nodded in recognition. "Of course, sir."

There was another pause in conversation as the king shuffled a few papers around in front of him. "Weyenburg!" He bellowed, suddenly, causing the young lady a few seats down from him to jump in her seat. Gustavo's eyes locked onto her's, his brows furrowed. "Has your father forgotten that I made him Lord, not you?"

Shifting in her seat, Rosaline clutched her hands together on the table. "Fath...Lord Nikias sends his apologies. He is quite ill and has been unable to leave the house for some time." Her voice started out unsure before she regained her composure. "I'm afraid I will be standing in for him until he gets back on his feet."

Gustavo scoffed and leaned back in his seat, causing an audible creak as the chair compensated for his great mass. "What's wrong with him this time and when will he be back?"

Rosaline faltered for only a fraction of a moment before answering her king. "I'm afraid I do not know. My mother is doing her best to care for him though no one seems to know what plagues him. She has not left his side in weeks...But he has not shown any signs of recovery."

Gustavo wrinkled his nose before shaking his head. "Fine fine. At least he had the forethought to send his daughter in his stead. You are doing fine, my lady. Please send your father my regards."

Rosaline smiled and nodded, quietly sighing in relief.

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After the council meeting was over, Drystan made his way out of the castle gates, choosing not to socialize with the nobles as many of them had stayed behind to chat. His footsteps were relatively quiet considering his stature. He flexed his hand at his side in thought, making a tight fist then letting go. If there was one thing he hated more than the creatures he hunted, it was bureaucracy. He often wondered why he had gotten himself into this line of work, where paperwork was required and he had to frequently report back to the king. He could have been a mercenary, traveling alone, taking jobs as he pleased and not reporting to anyone. But no. Working for the king proved much more lucrative and with far more resources.

It didn't take him long before he had made his way to the guild's headquarters. It was a fair sized building, nestled between the guard's barracks and the city walls. Since the guild's founding, the king had ordered a building be re-purposed specifically for the hunters to meet in and to serve as their living quarters, if they so chose.

Letting himself in, Drystan didn't stop to give greetings to the few members that were awake in the early hour. He walked straight to the stairs and made his way to the very top floor that served as his own private quarters. He let the door shut loudly behind him and fell into the chair that sat at his desk. He let out a loud sigh as he sank forward, letting his head hit the wood with a thud. He sat there for a long while before begrudgingly regaining his composure and sitting back up. He reached for a quill with one hand and a parchment with the other. He dipped the quill in the deep black ink before bringing it's tip to the paper. It seemed like the work never stopped as, even with the new members of the guild hunting and slaying the creatures that lurked in the shadows, the attacks continued to pile up. He'd need to start giving some of his work to his second in command...

Eyelids fluttered open slowly at the sound of loud snoring from the other side of the bed. With a groan, she brought her hand up and swiped the hair from her eyes. Kerta awoke to find herself fully nude and flat on her belly, covers thrown astray. She glanced around the interior of the room and let out a breath when she realized that it was her own. Before she could prop herself up, another deep noise interrupted the silence of the morning. She raised a brow and looked over her shoulder to see a strange man in her bed. Groaning, she slowly sat up and kicked her leg out, connecting with the man's side. The kick caused him to roll over, landing on the hard ground with a thud and a yell. "Go on. Out with you. No longer needed here."

The man staggered to his feet and looked the nude woman over with a smirk. Wiping off his chin, he took a step towards her, only to be stopped when she pulled out a blade. His eyes widened and he quickly lifted his hands in response. "Woah, woah. No need for hostilities. Only wanted a good morning smooch."

Kerta held the blade steady, an eyebrow raising in annoyance. "Do I look the type to give a good morning smooch? Out, before you lose an appendage. One that you're so very fond of."

With a gruff, the man quickly pulled his clothes on before taking off out of the room. She watched him run out before snickering to herself. Shaking her head, she stood and pulled on some clothes before gingerly running her fingers through her hair. Her hair was her greatest asset- yet it was also her more tale-tale feature. It being the color of near grayish white, it was something that most people never really saw. Something that she could be remembered for.

When she was a young girl, Kerta's father had cursed her, calling her a freak for the unnatural color. He had threatened to cut it off before a stranger had remarked on her beauty. That remark had landed her an offer for the local brothel. She should really cut it, or find some way to change the color. Yet, it was the one thing that reminded her of beauty. She was special. Unique. There was no way she was giving that up.

Didn't take her long to put herself completely together. Making her way out of her quarters, she grabbed a cup of ale sitting in the commons. She smirked at the protest of its owner before gulping down the contents. Tossing the empty mug, she made her way up to the captain's quarters. Kerta remembered something about him having a meeting near dawn- he surely should be back now. Even naught, she would just wait him out. Maybe even get an afternoon toss around, to boot.

With a small tap at his door, she made her way inside before he could respond. Glancing over at Drystan, she took in his expression. She smirked and shook her head before taking a seat on the corner of his desk. "You look like hell."

Drystan's eyes lifted from his writing when he heard the door open on briefly. He spotted the silvery white hair and recognized Kerta immediately. He grunted a greeting and went back to scribbling on the parchment in front of him.

He and Kerta had worked together for some time now, having been acquainted before the official start of the guild. Kerta was one of the few people to stick around with his general coldness towards others. She seemed rather immune to it, actually. And in truth, he had started to warm up to her, himself.

He sat a moment in silence, the quill scrapping across the paper the only sounds he could hear. After finishing the sentence he was writing, he let the quill fall and sat back in his seat. His eyes lifted to look at the woman sitting on his desk. "Yeah, well, that's what happens when you have to deal with the damned king and his council of idiots on a regular basis." His voice was gruff and tired, an air of irritation behind it.

"I'm going to send you next time to deal with them and their bullshit," he scoffed as he pushed his chair away from the desk. He put one of his feet on the top of his desk and let the other rest atop it's ankle.

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Solmakall was about himself, busy and tired all at the same time and that was doubled for his position and the time of day. Not one to stick around during the day, nor be seen by the natural public, he often took to lurking in the rafters. Like a demonic guard dog that took on high. While he had his little hovel out back, tucked away from public eyes and nested by himself for his suitings. Really most would call it a cave, but he called it home. Instead though he was inside the main building. Curling up with his black form in the corner above the bounty board. Hidden in plain sight, yet invisible with his inky black hide. Like a shadow hiding in a shadow. Why? He was to meet his new friend today! A man by the name of Mikhail and he was supposed to have a dog friend with him as well. That in turn limited the possible numbers of who it could be. So until that man arrived he sat deathly still.

That was when Drystan came in and that was the first time he moved since perching last night. It was almost odd how he could stay so still and awake and yet be so quick to snooze when active. Yet regardless he gave a groan and croak at the man as he passed in hello. Only to be ignored as he slammed his door, clearly not one to be bothered right now. Instead he commit back to his spot, staying still as the grave.

That was at least until he saw his friend, watching him approach the bounty board for a contract. Only then did he move, stretching hs bones and clenching the firm beam of the rafters lowering himself with a thunk and thud, revealing his position just in time to look up and down the Human before croaking a few times, flexing his throat to produce the dark, guttural sound to the Hunter. Only to then follow it up with a graveled and deep, "I... Solmakall... new frie.... friend." Apparently having some issues with the English language.

Namia awoke in darkness, initially panicked he reached for his sickle which normally lay at his side when he slept before realising he was safe. He did not understand why the guild had insisted upon him helping them before almost immediately afterwards insisting that he slept in a windowless room and kept out of sight of the 'commoners', he assumed this meant that the inhabitants of this city much like the previous few would react negatively if they saw his appearance. He noted that on his approach to Rothenburg, whilst the monsters he sought were more abundant the people were generally more hostile likely due to one too many bad experiences with strangers.

Groaning he slowly sat up and lit a candle, using the light to inspect himself he noted that the spines which had begun to grow on his back, shins and forearms were becoming more pronounced. Tying his dreadlocks behind his head he slowly got up before getting dressed, he fitted his sickle and poison making kit to his belt and finally donned the heavy cloak that the guild had given him to hide his features. Sitting back down he stared at his hunting mask which he had hung on a peg by the door, he was surprised that the ornate designs on the mask had stayed intact for so long. Suddenly he longed to return home, remembering the witches promise that if he managed to complete his transformation he would be able to return to his people. Trying to keep his mind away from his home he crossed the room, placed the mask over his face and opened the door.
Luckily he didn't have to travel far to reach the main room, he was still getting used to the layout and was worried about getting lost in this new environment. Approaching the bounty board he eyed the contracts for a while before marking the Ogre hunt to show his interest. He walked over to the corner of the room and sat alone at a table and got out his poison kit deciding to prepare some venoms to apply to his blade. Taking off his mask so he could focus better, he wondered if he should look for the guilds captain 'Drystan he thought his name was?' before deciding against it, instead focusing on grinding up the ingredients he had assembled in his pestle and mortar.

Reiner had been up for a few hours already, busying himself in a small workshop in an offset room, consisting of tools and furnishings that would allow an individual the ability to clean, fix, and if possible, sharpen their gear. He had taught himself whilst being mentored to become an early riser, either for the chance that an unknown entity may be plotting something, or for time to prepare. Prepare he did, disregarding the peace and quiet of the early morning, Reiner would work on knocking kinks and dents out of the metal plating and mail he wore in and out of combat, the sound of metal being struck resonating out of the small workshop graciously granted to the domicile of the Guild. He kept at this, in the dimly lit room, by a single, dying furnace, requiring a fresh blast of oxygen, Reiner would oblige, lighting the room up from pure heat of the coals.

He put down and arranged his un-dented, yet battered armor neatly on an adjacent table, turning to a grindstone-wheel, placed fashionably in a corner, unsheathing his sword, he would take a seat on a stool beside such a wheel, pressing his boot to the pedal of the grindstone, kicking at it until the stone began to turn at a pace suitable for a piece of metal to grind against it with a chance to be sharpened. Reiner lightly placed one of the edges of his blade at an angle against the stone, and incessant noise from the workshop began again. He did not mind the constant noise, he did mind that his equipment was not yet up to snuff before the approaching technical day for the rest of the members to begin. "Seventy Seconds" he whispered to himself, timing the perfect moment to swap edges, to sharpen his shortsword efficiently.

That time came by rather quickly, and Reiner opened his grip on the sword lightly, tilting his wrist upwards, and flicking his hand to turn the sword's blade one-hundred and eighty degrees, before tilting his wrist back down to it's previous position, the grinding continued on the duller side of his sword. "Fantastic." He said, getting closer to his goal of finishing his preparations to be ready for anything that might happen for the rest of the day. He sat there, sharpening his sword, considering taking a second look at the Bounty Board, to see if anything pertaining to Goblins had shown up, and if not, form a team for the pre-existing bounties posted from the days before.

*Due to complications my post begins during Deos Morran's post. However, it ends after Verticus' post*

Mikhail looked up at the old inn that now served as the Hunter's base of operations. The early morning sun was just now peeking over the tops of the buildings. Its golden rays reflecting off of the clear windows, blinding the man to their contents. Standing underneath a large oak, its deep green leaves waving gently in the wind, Mikhail pulled out both the flyer and the letter from Rosaline. Thoughts of the green-eyed redhead flitted through his mind. A smile, one that was content with its life, appeared on his face. Maybe he would get to see her again. Suddenly, after feeling something bump into his leg, Mikhail was snapped back into reality. Brynhild's reddish snout looked up at Mikhail.

"Yes, yes...I know. Work first. Dream second..." Sighing a little bit, Mikhail stepped out from under the tree. "But a man can dream can't he?" Mikhail's signature happy-go-lucky smile quickly returned as he made his way towards the dark oak door of the Guild. A similarly oaken sign hung out just above the door. In grand letters it proclaimed to all those who read it that this was the Hunters' Guild.

Pushing open the door, a familiar scene greeted Mikhail. The entire place was empty. Or at least it seemed empty. Brynhild's fur began to rise on end, but with one look Mikhail kept the wolf silent. Walking forwards, Mikhail let the door close silently behind him. There was a bar to the right and stairs to the left. One set led up, a second set led down. Several tables and numerous chairs filled the main room. Rafters crisscrossed the ceiling. Several doors were laid in the wall on the opposite side, a light coming from one of them. Next to the bar hung a large board. Large letters, in the same font as the sign outside told of its function. This was undoubtedly the guild's bounty board.

Walking up to the board, Mikhail looked it up and down. Only three jobs were posted on the board. The first was spiders, which, even without them there, made his skin crawl. Someone else would have to hunt those bastards down. The next two jobs were far more interesting. A werewolf and an ogre were listed. "Ah...damn..." Looking down at Brynhild, Mikhail gave the wolf a poor smile, "I guess its got to be the wolf after all."

Ripping the bounty from the board, Mikhail turned around to the sound of a large body hitting the ground. An 11 foot monster was looking down on him. With a gulp, Mikhail held his breath, at least until the creature croaked out a greeting. Visibly relaxing, Mikhail extended his hand to the creature, his own blue eyes meeting the creature's vibrant red orbs. "Hello, Solmakall, I'm new here and I would enjoy being your friend." Bowing just slightly, Mikhail smiled up at the creature. "However, I must first join the guild." Stepping past Solmakall, Mikhail walked towards the only door from which light eminated. Knocking on the door several times, Mikhail called out.

"Captain Drystan. My name is Mikhail Lannyster. I'm here to sign up for the Hunters." Mikhail's peasant accent came out as he talked through the door. In his hands were the flyer, Rosaline's letter, and the werewolf's bounty. Brynhild rubbed against his leg, her tail wagging lightly, hitting his leg.

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Solmakall gave a curious look to the man. He seemed afraid until he spoke. The new friend was jumpy, but he seemed nice. He also had a nice friend-dog. Normally dogs would bark and bay at the mere scent of him, but now this one was calm and nice. It was a good change of pace and it meant he didn't have to kill it and make the saying true, "put them down like dogs." He liked it showing it off by letting his whip-like tial sway and flick like an agitated cat... really not making things better for his less than hostile nature. Instead being more fearsome and angry looking with his blank smokey face. Regardless, the man offered his hand and he was at a loss. Nobody wanted to shake his hand and given his hands were the size of most people's torsos given his large pummelers. Still though that only made him more curious and so he leaned down, sniffing at the hand as much as a dog or other canine would. Getting a feel for his new scent but also learning more about him that he could think he knew. There was the smell of old blood on his hands. Kills of kin and kind. He was a hunter whether he knew it or not and the same must be true for the company he kept.

Withdrawing his smoke spilling head he looked at the man and in that moment he glanced down again at the hand, tepidly lifting up one of his to mimic him, but he didn't understand what is was to shake so he held his hand there for a moment. Only to recoil way faster than his larrge frame should let him when he went to grasp his hand. His primal sense kicking up and sending him into defense mode. Only to have him leap up and perch on the rafters again. Looking down at the stranger. His words were kind, but why would he try so fast to touch him? Solmakall was even more interested and that in turn meant he was even more curious about this newcomer. He was nice and new. Strange too. Solmakall wants to be his friend with great interest, perhaps.

Still though he let him and his friend head to the boss' door. Why stop him? Boss-friend was the only person he actually thought could take care of himself and wouldn't need Solmakall's protection. He was sturdy and smart. Strong and fast. A good hunter and predator. He makes a good Alpha to ally with.

The smirk at her lips only broadened at his caveman greeting. She had grown rather accustomed to the brusque man over the years and in all honesty, he was probably one of her favorite people. Then again, she didn't keep many others around. Not that they even wanted to stay around in the first place. Life with Kerta was definitely a battle in itself. The woman didn't mind being alone if it meant enough time to numb her emotions or to clear the land of monsters. Didn't mean that she was immune to a good time. Her private quarters routinely remained busy.

She continued to watch in silence as Drystan finished his paperwork. Kerta knew he hated this part of the job, however he was the only one she could ever trust to be captain. Hell, he was the only person she really even respected. Nobody else had quite proven themselves, in her opinion. However, the guild was recruiting new members on a daily basis as the threat of monsters grew- gave others plenty of time to earn her respect.

Once he was finished, she clicked her tongue at his response. Her eyes flickered with humor as she tilted her head at the man. "Oh, but you're the only man for the job, Drys...The king adores his little soldier." Kerta leaned over and laid her palm on his calf, allowing her fingers to knead into the muscle. She looked him over suggestively and shrugged. "But I wouldn't mind taking a seat among royals. Surrounded by all that power..."

Her body shook in a result of forced excitement. With a small laugh, she opened her mouth to speak more. She was quickly interrupted by a knocking on the captain's door. Raising a brow, she dropped her hand from his leg and slid to her feet. Kerta stepped away from the desk and folded her arms across her chest. The expression on her face hardened as she looked over at the wooden barricade. "Enter."

Dawn’s light was soon to break from the east. Levi cursed the sun before it showed itself to the world, and kept riding. He had rode through the night from the northern fringes of Durot back to Rothenburg. His plan called for him to be sleeping soundly with two fresh ogre heads right now, but instead he was just a mile outside of Rothenburg and riding hard still. The sound of horseshoes decreed his arrival before he could even be seen as the morning light still had yet to break. He had caught word of the guild having a contract for an ogre problem in the northern stretch of the Durot range: a task he thought he could easily solve by himself even before checking in with the guild’s captain. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

In all his years of hunting, he had only ever seen four ogres in a raiding group once. Three was uncommon still. This night he had seen six, and more could be heard in the distance. The wreckage was more broken and scattered. The roaming band of beasts was farther north than he’d ever seen. Levi had spent plenty of time in the area dealing with the mongrels but this was beyond his ability. Even with his propensity to rush to action and confidence in his skill ... he realized six ogres at once was insane even for him. Something was wrong; this was far worse than anything encountered before.

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The city of Rothenburg had begun to wake up as the sun rose above the walls. The horse that served as Levi’s mount was growing as tired as he was. There had been nowhere near enough rest between riding out to Durot and back. His weariness showed as he slowly came up to the converted inn. It wasn’t much of a headquarters from the outside, but inside it has most everything it needed to where it counted.

Levi stumbled to the ground in his exhaustion. He hadn’t even taken the time to relieve himself of parts of his armor. His shoulders ached from riding for hours in it. Under the circumstances, the frustration was mounting. His tired feet carried him indoors to get some much needed rest. He grimaced as he walked past the bounty board seeing the contract he had just abandoned. In anger he beat a fist against the defenseless piece of parchment.

He didn’t even know why he was angry. He had been forced to abort a contract. The situation in Durot was far worse than anyone could have expected. He was running on twenty hours of no rest. His mental capacity was strained at the least. He took a breath, and then stumbled his way towards the captain’s office. He gave two swift raps on the doorframe, and then addressed the captain through the open door. His face said most of what needed to: that the situation where he had come from was severely problematic. “Captain, Levi,” he identified himself speaking breathily through his weariness, “Durot ... it’s bad.”

It was not until after he had briefly reported the situation he noticed the large wolf in the company of the man currently speaking with the captain. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, his left hand slowly sliding down to meet the grip of a blade as he leaned against the doorframe.

(Continuity note: this post pushes slightly past the next future post by Drakey.)

After half an hour of mixing ingredients Namia was finally about to finish his work, he tipped the ground up wendigo teeth into the solution before pouring it into a small cylindrical vial which he then bunged and shook vigorously. He then held the vial up to the light revealing the liquid's deep blue colour, it was time for the final test. Being careful not to use too much he let a single drop of the liquid drop out of the vial and onto the palm of his hand... the pain was instant and sharp but not unbearable "good" he said to himself in his own language, before placing the vial, pestle and mortar and remaining ingredients into his poison kit.

He took some time to look around the room the only inhabitants of which he could see were tables, chairs and empty glasses. Feeling a sudden thirst he made his way over to the bar and seeing that the barkeep wasn't there helped himself to a beer, leaving some money by the beer tap he wondered over to the bounty board and took another look. He noted that the lycan bounty had disappeared whilst he had been working, he still didn't understand why the people here had such a hatred for lycans and why the lycans didn't fulfill their role as protectors as they did back at his home. Taking the ogre contract off the board Namia read it out loud to himself “Killing entire caravans and picking through their goods.”. Finally having a distinct purpose Namia decided to find Drystan and ask him if he could take the contract as his first work for the guild. Whilst grabbing his mask from the table where he had left it and reattaching his poison kit to his belt Namia felt that his hand was still sore, looking back at the palm of his hand he saw that the top layers of his skin had flaked off revealing raw reddened skin, he smiled to himself the witches recipes were the greatest gift his village could have given him. Slowly climbing the stairs on his way to Drystan's office Namia could swear he could smell dog.

Namia walked through the open door of the captains office contract in hand “Captain I would like to take the ogre contract!” he said loudly in his heavily accented english, before realising that there was a small crowd of people already in the room including the dog he smelled earlier. Feeling embarrassed he quickly fell silent and stepped to the side of the room giving a clumsy salute to the captain, revealing his spiked forearm to those present.

(This also takes place after Drakey’s next post)

Grimacing slightly at being called the "king's little soldier", Drystan glanced up at Kerta. She had always been a flirt, whether she meant it or not. She also knew how to ruffle his feathers. He quickly shrugged it off at the sound of a knock on his door. He turned to look as the hunter entered. His eyes fell on the wolf at his side. What a strange group they had gathered. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but as long as they were all able to get the jobs done, he wasn't one to complain.

He hadn't had a chance to speak to the newcomer yet when another man made his way into the room. He raised an eyebrow at his words. He must have been referring to the ogre attacks. Drystan hadn't been able to check on that job just yet, though it was one he was interested in. He had only heard rumors, nothing of details as very few, if any, made it out of the ogre attacks alive. He was about to speak again when he saw the man's hand go to his hilt. The captain tensed, slightly, a reflex he had gained through years of combat. His eyes followed Levi's to the wolf at the newcomer's side. 'Interesting...'

As he surveyed the apparent tension in the room, a third hunter made his way in. It was the mutant, or so he had nicknamed him. He had no ill-will against the man, he just had a hard time remembering everyone's names at times. Drystan himself had a weak spot for a certain potion that he had considered commissioning Namia to make so he could stop buying it from the black market. But that was irrelevant at this moment as he currently had three hunters, a wolf and his second in command all sitting in his office at once. He let out a sigh. "Please, everyone, let yourselves in at once," he mumbled, sarcastically.

"Okay so...Newcomer with pet," he waved his hand towards Mikhail, "Hand me your papers and we will discuss that bounty. I would recommend finding a partner or two to take on this werewolf. Levi," he turned his attention to the second man who had entered, ignoring his obvious discomfort towards the wolf. "I am eager to hear your report. As for Namia," he shot a glance at the man standing to the side. "I imagine you will benefit from Levi's information."

Awakening to the sound of hoof eats, Domic opens his eyes from his hidden hole in a inn’s stable. He had slept here through the night as the presence of animals, smelly as they are, were comforting to him, and he knew none would dare approach a knight on their lonesome. It helped that Domic had hidden himself in hay. Rising from his slumber Domic grabbed his shield and walked out of the stable, his mouth dry and hungry for food. The townspeople were already busy getting their shops and stalls opened so all he needed to do was make himself more presentable and find someone to do business with.

The massive knight choose a humble little bakery stand, ran by two young women. They must have been children because they barely reached the height of his chest. ”Two pies. And... Cider. Please.” The hulking knight dropped a few coins for his food which the girls served with haste. The pies were filled with rabbit meat and mushrooms, and the cider was made from apples. Not the best food he’s ever had, but good enough to keep himself going. He thanked the two and continued on his way.

He had arrived to this city for a purpose. The life of a knight errant was interesting but had many of its own troubles. His armor for example was in dire need of maintenance; he had done all hthat could with what little he knew about armory but he could tell the overall quality had deminished. His shield was also found lacking, with many holes from blades and lances still present and now o my hidden by a wool banner barring his emblem. He was less of a knight and more of a heavily armored brigand at first appearance, and thus he’ll need to find an organization to assist in maintaining appearances.

And thus Domic finds himself at the royal Hunters Guild. They say mad beasts run rampant in the countryside that are beyond the skill level of most soldiers. Thus the kingdom was looking for the best warriors the land had to offer. Domic wasn’t sure if he wasn’t up to snuff but he’ll find out soon enough. The giant entered the guild and looked around, unsure of where to go. He garnered few stares as it seems not many of the guild’s hunters were as heavily armored as he. He understood why, most perfected mobility over endurance. To each their own.

The knight sat down on a bench near Captain Drystand and his company, paicently waiting for guidance or conversation. No need to be rude and infringe in a conversation in progress. Though Domic will listen in if he could.