The Outskirts

[Firesong]

It was an old house, built of crumbling brick, set some distance back from the road; a trampled footpath, once well used but now overgrown with weeds, led to back to the building. The inhabitant was strange, reclusive, and folks whispered things about him; but for the most part he hadn't done anything harmful to the community. To tell the truth, he had ignored it almost entirely; his farmland bordered immediately against the forest, and the path leading to the woods was far clearer than the path to the road which led into the village.

A more avid description of him would show that he was of a wiry build, muscles corded rather than bulging, and his hair grey, despite his young age; he could not be more than twenty, yet his skin was wizened like that of an old man. To say that he was no threat to the town was not to say his visitors were not; approaching his home as he ate a hunk of venison from his most recent kill, was a being almost twice his six and a half feet; and, unlike the inhabitant, his visitor's muscles were massive; anyone capable of carrying the massive double-headed flail, let alone using it in combat, had to have strength.

The creature was greyish, covered with patches of blue and green; due to its size, it barely looked like something alive as it ambled towards the decaying farmhouse. Haegrath, for that was the name of the trollish being approaching the cottage, straightened and paused for a second in the fading light; no sense to be running around in the sun if it could be avoided. Moving at a normal pace for him, making no effort towards silence (nor towards being heard), he continued, leaving rather deep footprints in the earth; twelve hundred pounds is not insignificant, and neither was the noise he made as he moved. In certain places he had learned to be quiet; but a farmer's field was not one of them.

It wasn't too long before he left the field and came into the immediate area of the house; tall beings have long legs. Moving up to the door of his half-brother's cottage, he raised his gnarled right hand and prepared to knock on the door.

[Chrishton Radu]

Moving through the woods was faster and easier than the road, oddly enough. Chris saved much time by not having to check ahead and behind himself to avoid being spotted by the occasional traffic moving between Marn and Shim. The last thing he needed was one of the vampire's retainers spotting him on his way to the manor...

... Which was, unbeknownst to him, the wrong direction. After his fight in the alley, he'd lost track of the vampire. The only scents he picked up off of her were smells of nature, specifically deep woods and the Ofriyu Mar river. It made sense to him that she must have come from this direction, from Bela's manor, and so he would look for her in Shim.

Meanwhile both her and Bela were in the opposite direction...

Chris liked Shim better than Marn anyway. It reminded him of the places he grew up; from the somber, sparse population to the rotting, shambled houses, to the obvious presence of darker magic. His time with the gypsies, no matter how long ago, left him with the feeling that such a place was home - even if it was the seat of power for his current worst enemy. The only place better than town for him was the forest itself.

The kitsune picked some brambles from his fur as he walked out from the trees and quickly shifted to his human form before anyone could see. His white fur and cloth changed into dark hair and leather clothes, and a few extra brambles plopped to the ground.

The man scratched his back where they had been and looked around. His eyes rested on the most salient feature around - the troll.

"Damn."

Trolls hurt. He hadn't seen one in ages, but the last time didn't end well. Hopefully this one wasn't on the vampire's payroll.

[Firesong]

The troll paused, withdrawing his hand as he sniffed at the air, his form towering briefly above the squat hut. For a moment, he thought he had caught a scent of something unfamiliar... but it must have been his somewhat limited imagination. The half-troll living inside would no doubt have been enough to keep most intruders away from the old house.

After deciding that there was nothing around threatening, he once again raised his fist and rapped gently (a relative term; the door shook under the blows) on the entrance to his half-brother's house. Knocking was not a nicety generally used by trolls; but apparently this one had picked up at least a semblance of manners, judging by the fact that the door was still on its hinges. It wasn't long before the wizened creature within answered. The troll said nothing, but, stooping over, entered the hut and sat on the floor; his host glanced around nervously, his eyes similar to his guest's, but with more curiousity and less courage. The troll clearly made him uneasy.

[Chrishton Radu]

Chrishton stood at the edge of the woods until the troll had gone inside, at which point he started into the village again.

He muttered to the spirits with a shake of his head. "I ain't fightin' that."

They started to mock him, calling him names and sending him thoughts of frightened little animals, but he stopped them with an easy question: "Would you?"

General silence.

"Right then."

He waved his hand through the air as if he could waft away their smoky orange wisps, though it had no effect on them, and with a mild grin on his face he shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking. If not for their friendly (if sometimes annoying) company, he knew he would probably have gone mad from so many days traveling alone.

Standing ominously on a hill overlooking the town he could see the vampire's manor. If the woman was in Shim, she would probably be in there, but breaking into that place a second time was asking for trouble.

"She is here, right?"

More general silence. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

[Firesong]

From within the building, some speech is heard... not intelligible, for it takes place in the tongue of trolls. It appears the half-troll is being interrogated, and, if one was to see the growing look of fury on the troll's face, it would become apparent that the answers were not satisfactory. It was no surprise, then, to anyone present (or who might have been present) when the half-troll was suddenly struck with such force that his neck snapped and he was thrown against the wall of the house, both taking and delivering considerable damage in the process. Never one to waste a source of food, Haegrath spent some time sorting the flesh away from the bones through the use of his teeth. On the way out, he left a gaping hole in the wall above the door and placed the skull there to wait for anyone passing by. By the time anyone found it, it would be only a skull. Nobody ever came this way.

Straightening to his full height, he decided to go into town. Deciding that although he might cause alarm, it was worth discovering whether there were any others of his kin around. Shouldering his flail, he began to lope down the paths into the town.

[Chrishton Radu]

Chrishton had no intention of remaining, but upon hearing the sounds emanating from the nearby house, he decided that whatever it was had to be more important than wandering aimlessly tracking a lost scent. It sounded like fighting... But then, it was a troll, of course it was fighting.

He quickly got closer to the house, having some difficulty keeping quiet in his human form but able enough to avoid detection from anyone inside. By the time he reached the house, staying away from the windows, the brief fighting had ended and no sounds of talking followed. The sudden end, followed by awful ripping sounds, suggested the troll had killed whoever was inside and was... eating him? He grimaced at the prospect.

Chrishton rarely sided with killers of any kind, but somehow it was different when a troll killed someone. It was sort of a cultural thing with them. Warriors to the core. He could relate to that. Werewolves were like that. Hopefully the troll had a good reason to do it.

He watched the creature stroll out of the place toward down, and once it was gone far enough he started to follow, but stopped when he saw what it had done with its victim.

"Wow."

His reaction was half hearted, but still honest. It had shock value to him only because it had been so long since he last saw such a brazen act.