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Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWolf)


Tassadar

Tassadar

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Emeron: HP = 41, PP = 53, EP = 58, Status = Fine
Syran: HP = 54, PP = 39, EP = 39, Status = Fine

NPCs
Alenya: PP = 29, EP = 67, Status = Fine, Hidden within Emeron

It had been two weeks.... Two weeks since they had laid their tribe to rest, and taken up the hunt. Pickings had been slim ever since they had annihilated the raiding party that had wiped out their tribe, but now they were on to something. They had come upon a village of the settled folk two days ago, and though it had been as obliterated as totally as their own homes, they had found a young boy clinging to life in the snow, too badly wounded for them to have had any hope of saving. He had told them of an orc band led by a titan, an orc that stood at the height of a troll and wielded a sword as large and as heavy as a full grown man, allegedly the band that had wiped out his own village. Whether or not it was a part of the group that had wiped out their own tribe, for the patrol that they had dealt with before was much too small to have killed so many, was unknown, but perhaps to them, orcs were orcs.

They tracked that group now, and had come across a trio of orcs sitting alone around a camp fire. They had a small tent to themselves, and cheap looking, shoddy weapons and armor. Clanless, likely poachers rather than soldiers, but they were on the same trail as the larger orc band that they were after. They sat hunkered in a dip in the ground, among a stand of birch and pine trees, while the two brothers crouch atop a snowy embankment some forty feet away. The trio were speaking to one another, but what they were actually saying was impossible for either of them to determine given the distance.
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWolf)

Syran was deathly silent for most of this, refusing to speak, since his own rage made his voice shake every time he opened his mouth, so it was little brother emeron that handled most of the speaking, and it was a good thing, Emeron was certainly the kinder souled of the 2 brothers.

Still this didn't change overly much, and apart from another decimated village, they hadn't had much luck, before they found a survivor, though the poor boy wasn't long for this world, the gods seeing he had just enough breath left to point those stronger then himself in the direction of vengeance. The smells of death and decimation set his hackles on end as they moved and before too long, his nose picked up the scent of orcs... Foul greenskins, Bipedal monsters, worthless bickering scum!

They'd managed to make it fairly close to them, but not close enough, as if Syran cared. But he bit down on his own fury, his close control of his emotions reigning himself in quickly as he turned to Emeron. "Flank left and right, charge as they notice little brother, I don't want the scum getting away from us. But remember to leave a survivor... Injured makes for stupid, and a stupid orc is especially stupid. Hopefully he'll give us another scent to follow before he bleeds out.

And that was the plan Syran had in mind really, his blade slipping from across his back to rest, balanced in his hand. If Emeron had no issues with the plan, then off he would go to the left, staying low, counting on his white fur and the snow to help shield him from prying eyes as he moved.
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

( Apparently I forgot to finalize Emerons stats. I have done so now tho. His HP should be 61, not 41, 'coz Healthy benefits )

Two weeks had passed since the destruction of almost everything Emeron had ever known, but he still had his brother, and the spirit guide that had always been there for his tribe. While the large bearman shared the hatred of his brother towards the ones that had done such atrocities to them, the orcs, his heart was also filled with grief and loss. He had given everyone he could find a proper burial, or at least as proper as just the two brothers could manage for those that were lost. And then they had set off, to hunt the orcs, to bring vengeance upon the greenskins. They had already faced the orcs in battle, but the victory had been shallow and empty. Their vengeance did not feel complete, not yet. A day or so later they had came upon the ruins of what had once been a settlement, and Emeron recalled it as a place where his tribe had traded before. They found only one survivor, and he was not long for the world, and so Emeron had done what he could to ease his suffering to the best of his abilities. But they had been given clues by the dying boy, clues to the whereabouts of more orcs, and thus the two brothers knew where to head next in search of their vengeance. Orcs were orcs, and they would pay for what they had done.

During the days, the brothers had tracked and hunted, with Emeron making sure they got enough food to keep their bodies strong and healthy, but little else. The bearman, despite being the younger brother, always made sure that the two of them took the time needed to keep themselves in good condition, often trying to keep Syran calm and collected. But now, after two weeks, with a trio of orcs before them, even Emerons patience was wearing thin. He listened to Syrans words, nodding slowly and thoughtfully like he had a habit of doing. "Sounds like a plan, brother. I will see what I can do to get their attention.", he spoke with a slow, quiet tone, and then began to make his way down, moving in a crescent path in order to flank the orcs right side, he certainly had a plan in mind on how to deal with the orcs. He was a slow thinker, but not stupid by any stretch. He was, however, far from as subtle or as sneaky as his brother, something he hoped wouldn't get him in too much trouble. Then again, he did have someone watching his back. With a low voice, barely a whisper, Emeron spoke as he made his way towards the Orcs. "Alenya? Are you awake? I might need your assistance, should things go poorly."

Once close enough to the Orcs, or if he were found out, Emeron knew exactly what forces of nature to call upon, channeling his magics to cause an explosive burst of growth amidst the orcs, but a bit away from the fire; a mess and tangle of vines, infused with the strength of nature itself, in an attempt to incapacitate or otherwise restrain the foul greenskin.

-Action-
Emeron used Conjurer's Trick! Emeron fusioncasts Entangling Vines+Inner Strength(Body)!
Emeron summons Entangling Vines with a total of 54 Body(20 Base, +12 from Focus in Nature/Druidic Secrets, +22 from Inner Strength), and with 2AV!
This costs him 6EP, and should be auto-successfully cast despite the -6 casting penalty!​
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

Emeron: HP = 41, PP = 53, EP = 52/58, Status = Fine
Syran: HP = 54, PP = 39, EP = 39, Status = Fine

NPCs
Alenya: PP = 29, EP = 67, Status = Fine, Hidden within Emeron

Rolls
Sneakery: Syran succeeds, Emeron not so much.

Casting: Success on both.
Emeron summons a bunch of vines with a buff!
Vines: 10 + 2 + 4 = 16 * 2 = 32 Body and 2 AV.
Buff: 7 + 1 = 8 * 3 = +24 Body on ye Vines, for a total of 56.
Them vines then proceed to get grabby on dem orcs!
Attacks: All hit. The orcs are grappled!

Inner Strength is a level 2 Nature Spell, not a Body one.

The two brothers, having made their plans, separated and crept up on the seemingly oblivious trio of orcs. Speaking to the ghost that even then inhabited his body while he crept down towards the orcs, Emeron received a quick reply; "I am always awake, mine host~" Aleyna's playful voice replied into Emeron's head, "I will come forth when I'm needed~" Syran, in the meantime, was himself a ghost amidst the snowy forest as he moved in closer to the grumbling trio, moving into a position from which to strike.

Suddenly, as Emeron crept down towards the orc's campsite, his foot dislodged a piece of ice, causing it to skid down the side of the hill loudly. All three orcs immediately shot up and turned toward him, shouting as they took up their weapons, two brandishing handaxes and shields while a third drew a spear. "Who're you?" one of them grunted, his dialect heavily accented. Emeron's response came in the form of a bundle of vibrantly glowing vines suddenly popping up in their midst, reaching out in all directions and wrapping around the trio's limbs. The orcs shouted, his brother's distraction leaving Syran a perfect opportunity to slay the beasts.
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

Syran was moving so low to the ground as he flanked the trio, that he may as well have been just another patch of snow and bark amidst the trees, and as his brother went about his own part in this play of blades and blood, it seemed his size gave him away, a hunk of ice dislodging and giving Emeron's position away.

This worked out well in the end, as Syran had moved into striking distance within these few seconds, biting down on his fury until such a moment that it could tear itself from it's chest. And as the creatures all turned their attention to his little brother, Syran was already moving full tilt with a howl on his lips, the sound of the wolf tearing through the surrounding trees like a small thunderclap, the light shining from his blade as it glared at the orcs, held low as the white furred blur moved to land in the center of all the grappled orcs.

His footing was flawless, as were the motions of his blade as he let momentum carry his blade not through a single strike, but 3, one blow against each creature as a lethal dance began even in his infuriated state and his blade tore through flesh and bone with ease...

Moving, activating Rage, Lightning Strikes, and Battle Dance and Blood Bath, paying 4 EP for the round.

Lightning Strikes: 1 attack against each creature with a -12 AR and -6 DMG modifier

Battle Dance: Must attack every round, takes 4 AV ignoring damage a round. +12 AR and Dodge for all attacks while this is active

Rage: +10 to AR, DMG, Grapple, and +4 AV, Cannot dodge.

Blood bath: 4EP has been spent, each attack that hits heals Syran for 2d6+6 (-2 for each additional strike. so 2d6+6 for the first, +4 for the second, +2 for the third)

Culmination!!! Total Attack Mod for this round = 73
Total Dmg for this round = 1d12 +15 +Body/2 (21) == 1d12+36 per attack
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

As Emeron caused a chunk of ice to roll down causing all sorts of noise, with the Orcs calling out to the Bearman, he groaned internally and weaved his hands, flinging his spell of growth towards the orcs. "You blind? I'M A BIG DAMN BEAR!", he shouted in return, to keep them distracted while Syran moved in.

And his big brother didn't leave him hanging either. Emeron would take the time to weave his hands once more, gathering not magics of growth and earth, but magics of the sky's most volatile nature; lightning. Thrusting his open palms out, he let go two crackling bolts of energy, seeking their way towards the nearest two Orcs, hoping it would be quite a stunning experience for them. He was mostly focusing on keeping them occupied while his brother had his merry way with them... For the time being, at least.

(Action: Quicken Spell, Shock*2, Level 2 Lightning, cast once on each of the two nearest Orcs. 2d4+7 Damage a piece, and Emerons Resistance is 28. This costs Emeron 6EP, and just like last time should be cast auto-successfully I believe)
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

Emeron: HP = 41, PP = 53, EP = 46/58, Status = Fine
Syran: HP = 54, PP = 39, EP = 35/39, Status = Fine

NPCs
Alenya: PP = 29, EP = 67, Status = Fine, Hidden within Emeron

Rolls
Syran comes up and chops some orc with all that stuff! I should note that Bloodbath, like all skills, causes the same penalty to every hit, not in a descending progression.
Attacks: All three hit.
Damage: 5 + 36 - 9 = 32 damage per orc.
Healing: Enough to recoup the 4 damage from Battle Dance.

Emeron quickened spell shocks two of the bound orcs!
Casting: Success.
Attack: Both hit.
Damage: 4 + 1 + 7 - 9 = 3 damage each. (Lol, Emeron is flaccid.)
Resistance: Emeron wins both, Stunning them. Or maybe not.

The one orc that wasn't stunned tries to squirm free while the vines try to put them into a submission hold.
Grapple: Vines win, all orcs are in submission holds.

As the three orcs concentrated on Emeron, and then on the bloom of writhing vines that the wildheart mage conjured beneath their feet, Syran unleashed his inner rage and charged down into the basin in which the orcs had made their camp. His blade sunk into orc flesh, his muscles tensing as he carved deep gashes into the lightly armed warriors, the ones with shields unable to even come close to getting them in the way of the enraged man's. Emeron in turn unleashed waves of lightning upon the two orcs with shields, the crackling electricity leaving them all but paralyzed in the grasps of the increasingly restrictive plants that held them in place. The battle, if one could even call it that, was all but won already, with only the orc who'd gone for the spear even struggling at this point.
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

The blitzkrieg from the brothers worked quite well, with Syran landing painful blows on all of them, and Emeron managing to pin them with his magic as well, the fight over in a flash, though... one was still struggling. Looking down at him, Syran touched the tip of his blade just under the orcs throat and snarled.

"Make no mistake, You live or die at our mercy Orc filth, and before this meeting of ours is over, you WILL tell me what I want to know, I don't care if I have to peel your muscle off your bones chord by chord to get it either, so lets make this short, and sweet. Where are the others... The angry red eyed wolf man growled, staring down at the orc with the most intense hatred that any man could feel for another creature, and meaning every word...
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

Emeron saw that all was going smoothly enough, and began to wade through the snow, approaching the Orcs his big brother was dealing with so handily, but kept his guard up incase things might go poorly. He held no favor for Orcs, not after what their kind had done to his kind, but as a gentle man he felt little drive to further their suffering beyond what he had already done... And leaving them at the complete mercy of his furious brother was a terrible enough fate as is.

(Readied Action: Shock or Quickened Shock Spells, incase one or more of the orcs manages to break free or hurt Syran)
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

Emeron: HP = 41, PP = 53, EP = 46/58, Status = Fine
Syran: HP = 54, PP = 39, EP = 35/39, Status = Fine

NPCs
Alenya: PP = 29, EP = 67, Status = Fine, Hidden within Emeron

The orc snarled but went still as Syran put the tip of his blade under the beastman's throat, and as Emeron approached with another lightning spell at the ready the warrior recognized his defeat and ceased his struggles. "What are you talkin' 'bout 'umie? Was just 'a three of us out 'ere!" the orc grunted in reply, his grasp of their language clearly somewhat lackluster judging by his accent and the amount of time he took to speak. "I don' even know what yer on about! We're clanless we are, outcasts! Same as you lot by the look 'ah yah!"
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

Syran... Was understandably conflicted, because a part of him was still thirsty for blood, and in vast oceans no less, but his little brother so close by was what reigned him in. He had to remind himself that everything they were doing had a point, that they actually needed the information more then they needed to enjoy the sight of three steaming orc corpses.

Biting his lip at the remark about being outcasts, Syran crouched low so he was level with the orc that had actually given him an answer, blood trailing down his chin from the corner of his mouth as he forced back his rage, though it was safe to say, with his hood back, his red eyes, and the pointed ears atop his head, he looked more then a little demented to something pinned to the ground and at their mercy. Lets think my question through for a moment, and I meant what I said, you will walk out of here, still breathing if I like the answer. You may be clanless, but that doesn't mean you've forgotten where large raiding parties go after such a raid. You have one chance, just one, to give me something relevant, or... Oooo I can't even put into WORDS what I'm going to do to you! I really can't. The big guy there? The bear? He's the nice one and he's still holding onto lightning. I prefer the shine of steel myself. So. I'll ask again, and I'll be a little more specific this time. Syran continued.

In all fairness, were Emeron not there, then Syran would have immediately moved to the pain portion of the program, but it wasn't the case so Syran moved on. Where do the raiding parties go. Where do the clans settle this time of year. And do you know of an orc leader as big as a troll and wielding a massive sword. These are the things I need to know, And if I get them from you, you can all walk away, and forget you ever had the dreaded misfortune to meet us. Syran snarled, his patience quickly slipping.
 
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Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

As the heat of battle ebbed and thinned, Emeron slowly drew closer, his fists clenched and crackling with thunderous energies, the spells waiting to be unleashed with but a flick and a thrust of his hands. He didn't enjoy the grisly work of he and his brothers doing, but the fact of his tribes recent demise was all too fresh in his minds. Had it not been during these circumstances, he would've let the Orcs go, perhaps even healed. Emeron was a peaceful person, a kind soul at his heart, but this he could not let go, as much as it pained him.

As the Bearman took note of his brothers slipping patience, he let out a loud, if non-hostile, rumbling sound, followed by slow and deliberate words spoken with a calm voice. "Brother, give them the chance to speak.", it was a reminder to Syran to keep calm; dead orcs tell no tales, after all.
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

Emeron: HP = 61, PP = 53, EP = 46/58, Status = Fine
Syran: HP = 54, PP = 39, EP = 35/39, Status = Fine

NPCs
Alenya: PP = 29, EP = 67, Status = Fine, Hidden within Emeron

The orc to whom he spoke held a stoic expression throughout Syran's threats, and held his tongue until the barbarian had finished reiterating his questions. Shooting a glance Emeron's way when he was mentioned and again when the bear-like man spoke up, the orc turned a slow grin at Emeron and replied; "The raiders go wherever they want, and you lot should know that we don't settle for long if you've been hounding us. You wanna find us, go find one of the cities you lot used to live in afore we started takin 'em from yah! I don't know nothin 'bout no giant warlord, I been travelin South from the tundra for the last two months, met up with these two yesterday. Only warband I seen was the one that passed by here three days ago, goin East. Not sure why, and didn't see who was leadin 'em."
 
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Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWolf)

Smiling now? That's cute... I warned you. Syran growled angrily, a little switch in his head snapping into place as the images of his dead friends and family flashed through his mind, of their village in shambles. Holding a hand back to his brother, he looked at the two that had been silent. You will be given a chance after I'm done. After you see what I do... He said menacingly, having drawn a razor sharp skinning knife from his belt. He liked this blade, it was good for it's job when he was hunting.

Looking at the Orc, Syran trailed the blade lower, his sword once again resting on his back. Down along the leg, passed the knee, and the calf, all the while humming a childrens song cheerily, before with a flash against the snow, and a surprisingly small amount of blood, Syran slid the skinning knife through flesh and severed the orcs achilles tendon. Smiling up at the orc he was currently dissecting, he packed snow into the wound, and slashed the other. O dear, you'll never walk again. Such a shame, and we haven't even really gotten started yet. You know, hunting gives a man so many interesting insights He said conversationally.

The hamstrings were next, and the cuts were now slow and tedious, the tendons harder to find and reach without severing a major artery, but it was accomplished. You know? I could stop, but, it's so much easier this way. I can exercise all of my intense hatred on one of you instead of all three. Shame you had to run your fucking trap when you could have been helpful you know. Syran continued, knowing these cuts were too shallow to bleed the creature, but knowing the orc was permanently crippled and if the green skinned fool tried to open his mouth, Syran would change his next target and sever the tendons in his jaw.

You two, pay attention, Bravery? It's not a useful notion right now. I'm not even going to kill this one myself, I don't have to. he was dead from the moment I took his legs. He said softly. The next cuts slid into flesh along the orcs wrist and thumb. two more little tiny cuts, and you'll never move your limbs again! Isn't it grand? These little wires in our bodies that control everything? I'm glad it was you, you smell worse then the other two. The elbows were next, and the deed was done, the orc now just a slowly bleeding ragdoll in the Crolian forest. Not a safe thing to be, and Syran took his sweet time cutting him free if Emeron didn't release him or the vines didn't move, and dragging him to a nearby tree.

Using the creatures own belt, he tightly bound the creatures wrists, and hung him from the tree by it, leaving the in pain, crippled creature with a few parting words. And they'll start with your feet. You know? even the rats around here will eat free flesh. Goodbye Filth

The deed done, Syran returned to the other two, brandishing the small, scalpel sharp blade. Anyone else feel like being cute? I'm sure we have the time to watch your friend there get eaten from the toes up. You can still hear his screams you know, just no words to follow them. Or are you going to decide to be a little more fucking helpful...

In truth, this was not normal for Syran, but the blood tasted bitter in his mouth, and the death of him and his brother's tribe was still a raw wound. This was the wrong day to get between him and his targets. It was an even worse day to be a greenskin...
 
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Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWolf)

Emeron grimaced as he saw his brother draw the skinning knife from his belt. He already got an idea of what was going to happen. He wasn't going to enjoy neither watching nor hearing it, but he would keep his eyes on the other two orcs, even if it meant having to see the gruesome display his brother put up. If at all able to, he'd try to avoid the grisly scene, and guard over the other two, but would let the lightning ebb and fade away, his concentration would likely not be the best, and he figured the orcs would suffer enough without him threatening to bring down the thunder upon them at a moments notice.

Emeron was not happy about this turn of events. He was certainly not enjoying his brothers bloodlust, but at the same time, he could not blame his brother. Had Emeron been in his shoes, been the warrior that his big brother were... He likely would've done the same damn thing. And that thought didn't put his already troubled mind at ease. Not one bit.
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

Emeron: HP = 61, PP = 53, EP = 46/58, Status = Fine
Syran: HP = 54, PP = 39, EP = 35/39, Status = Fine

NPCs
Alenya: PP = 29, EP = 67, Status = Fine, Hidden within Emeron

The orc quirked an eyebrow at Syran as if he were bluffing, but when it became readily apparent that he wasn't (and his blood started pouring) he started screaming and flailing. His struggles came to naught, however, and the other orcs were forced to watch as their comrade was cut up and then hung out for the scavengers from a tree, an amount of work that took ten minutes all told. The orc passed out somewhere in the middle, and when the bloodied warrior returned with his carmine-soaked knife, the two already wounded orcs glanced at each other and then back to Syran. "E' weren't lyin," one of the orcs grunted, to which the other nodded, "We been goin back East, we just met him on tha road yesterday! Said he was goin South."

"E's the first of our kin we seen since Gods-Reach. There were some riders headed East a couple days ago, but we dint' get close enough ter tell whether they was your kind or ours!" said the first earnestly, and the other chimed in again; "We ain't been to any of the cities neither! We kept all ours in dah mountains, and you'd probly be able tah find yours easy enough without our help. If there's a particular group yer lookin for, yer better of trackin 'em than tryin tah predict 'em. Lest he got orders from the king, our warlords go where their whims tell 'em!" The first orc nodded energetically in agreement, and then they both fell silent, apparently believing that they'd answered to the best of their abilities.
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWolf)

Syran smirked, now they seemed a great deal more talkative, though it seemed that the information he'd already gathered was hardly supplemented by what they had to say, looking at Emeron, Syran quirked an eyebrow. I'm done with them, Seems East is the way to go brother. He said, cleaning his knife in the snow before sheathing it and stretching, his nose raised to the air. He would have to track anything they came across the old fashioned way, damned unorganized louts.
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWolf)

Emeron listened as the Orcs spoke, and rose a hand to thoughtfully stroke his large beard. He weren't much of a tracker, but thankfully Syran were. As his brother looked up to him, Emeron slowly walked over to his brother, ready to leave at a moments notice, but not before he put a hand on Syran's shoulder. His hand glowed briefly, enough to infuse his brother with a simple spell. A spell that would give a dim shine to the Wolfmans eyes, his senses sharpening.

"I am as ready as you are, Brother. Lets be going.", Emeron wouldn't offer much input as to the fate of the Orcs, they had done their part as far as he was concerned, it was up to Syran to decide what to do with them.

[Emeron casts Radiance(Perception) on Syran, +20 Perception, Costs 2EP, No Upkeep]
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWold)

Emeron: HP = 61, PP = 53, EP = 44/58, Status = Fine, Radiance on Syran
Syran: HP = 54, PP = 39, EP = 39, Status = Fine, +20 Perception (Radiance)

NPC Stats
Alenya: PP = 29, EP = 67, Status = Fine, Hidden within Emeron

Rolls
Casting: Success.
Buff: 40/6 = +7 * 3 = 21 rounds down to +20
Include the element of spells so I know whether you're including focus.

Perception (Emeron) : Nope.
Perception (Syran) : Yup.

The orcs they'd left tied up didn't make any complaint at that treatment, most likely due to what Syran had done to the member of them that had done the most talking, and so after Emeron granted his brother a quick magical boon the two were off unless Syran opted to kill the leftovers as well. The lands were harsh this time of year, but it wasn't winter yet, and the days were still long enough that they had hours yet to travel.

With his senses enhanced by his brother's magic and his own intensely honed skills, Syran was able to pick up the trail of the orcs after only a short while. As the tale offered by the other orcs had suggested, the trail was cold by at least three days, perhaps even a bit more, but that hardly mattered to the skilled hunter. Even the smallest signs were enough for Syran to carry them for miles, even though Emeron could barely discern a tenth of what his brother saw in the ground and the snow and the thin underbrush.

The warband was on horse-back, apparently traveling light as there were no signs of supply wagons or the like, suggesting that all they had was on their horses. Such wasn't unheard of from orcs, but it would make catching up to them difficult if they were traveling at full speed unless they could ascertain the destination of the warband. By Syran's estimation they numbered somewhere between three dozen and fifty, a sizable and dangerous force, particularly if they were heavy cavalry as the size and depth of the hoof-prints suggested.

On they traveled, going for many hours, until only a few hours before the sun set they happened upon a walled town, not quite small enough to be called a village but not nearly substantial enough to be called a city either. Farmland had surrounded it, but this time of year the fields lay barren beneath the snow, and remaining hidden along the more open ground would be difficult if they wanted to attempt it at all. The walls themselves were lit and manned, and perhaps to the surprise of the brothers they would see men, elves, and orcs patrolling the walls.
 
Re: Brothers on a Grim Holiday (Smokefish and CourageWolf)

As Syran picked up the small marks of someone's passing, he soon realized it was a great number of someones, and on heavy horse no less, turning to nod to his brother, Syran was off like a shot, his deep breathing always in through his nose, which, although no match for any true wolf, was still more keen then any mortal mans, and between the scent, and the marks upon the ground and surrounding brush, he had a direction.

The orcs, left behind, were left as they were, Syran wanting nothing more to do with him, grudgingly keeping his word about leaving them alive as he pursued more tempting game, and as the hours ticked by in relative silence, Syran only speaking when he had a firm grasp of just how many they were tracking, he turned in the last moments of the fading day. 30 plus, maybe 50, cavalry from what I can tell, and the smell of fire and waste in the air is starting to muddle things, there's a village nearby.

True to his statement, shortly after, they did indeed come across a settlement, manned by several different races, which was enough to give Syran a great deal of pause, his hands twitching when he saw orcs upon the walls. Such places, were many could live peaceably, had rather strict laws, they needed them for obvious reasons, he would need to watch his behavior.

Looking at Emeron, Syran shrugged, before wandering out into plain view, and spreading his arms. Hello! He cried out, getting someone's attention as he kept moving forward. Would it be possible, to have shelter for the eve?
 
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