Drakenwald

Jon-Jon would start leading Roxanne, on foot, towards the forest. "Couple of things you ought to know," he started to explain. "No horses in the forest. No unnecessary noises. You do what I say, when I say. Do that and we can stay alive." He looked at her and smiled, "but you look like you know what you doin', so you shouldn't need to worry 'bout much."

Ultimately they came upon the fringes of the woodland. Jon-Jon drew his bow and tugged on the string a few times, like he had done just before they exited the city. He felt for his quiver, then his knives, then his pouch, and ensured his furs were all wrapped tightly around him. When this was done he pulled out a flask; on one side was a yellow stripe. He pulled out the plug and sprinkled some yellowish liquid on his palm. He went about rubbing up on his hands and through his hair, then on his clothes.

He handed it over to Roxanne. "Piss," he said plainly. "Rub it on you real good, just like I did. Masks your smell."

As the duo started trekking into the forest Jon-Jon alternated his focus on what lie ahead and his immediate surroundings. He would rub his hands on the ground, in some random leaves, or across tree bark. He specifically stopped to smell water, or investigate the lay of mud. Each time he sighed and shook his head disappointingly and moved on.

Ultimately he came to a sudden drop. Down below was a mire; brown, watery pools littered the ground, with green grasses sticking up in various places. The sun was not visible, so the day was coming to an end. Roxanne would notice Jon-Jon snugging himself up nearby a treestump.

"Night falls," he said quietly. "No fire tonight. Attracts unwanted attention." Jon-Jon had wore a great deal of furs with him, so he'd stay warm anyway. If Roxanne did not have the proper attire she would grow miserably cold, in which case Jon-Jon would shed some of his own fur for the lady.

As the night came all sound in the forest seemed to vanish. Across from Roxanne Jon-Jon whispered "what's the most dangerous thing you ever hunted, girl?" Meanwhile he toyed with a little twig.

(Roxanne Fletcher)

Jon-Jon listened with interest to Roxanne's story. She was a pretty girl, he thought, which also made the trip a little more easier. "I prefer deer," he would finally say, in response to her first question. Then he grinned, "elk... hog... bear, even." He paused for a moment and shrugged "At least... that's what I like to hunt. Now? In these woods? The beasts here... they ain't natural. Bo Buck thinks somethin' 'round these parts been let loose... prowlin' the grounds at night... ain't sure what it is." The Hunter looked out over the swamp. "But it's big."

A silence would follow as the man seemed to be remembering something. "It's got a nasty maw, big ugly eyes... scaly back, long tail... tongue too. Like a snake with legs - a lizard, I guess you could say. Just bigger and deadlier, and nocturnal. It's not the only one neither, plenty of other gods-forsaken creatures roam these lands, but the night-lizard's the worse. He owns this swamp here. And once we're done with this one I figure we could further into the swamp... find out what's really messin' things up."

Jon-Jon kept his eyes on the mire, and his ears listened around him. If something appeared or made a sound he would know, as would Roxanne if she was vigilant. "So what's your story, Roxanne? Why'd you choose this profession? Pretty girl like you ought to be in a castle somewhere, no?" He was being sarcastic on the last bit, but genuinely wanted to know the girl's history.

(Roxanne Fletcher)

Jon-Jon chuckled quietly, smiling, then whispered "my pa was a frontiersman. He raised me as such. When I reached adolescence I joined his hunting club, which became a part of the Hunting Society. Not much to it, really. I'm just a simple man."

Something rustled the grasses down below in the swamp, and Jon-Jon's eyes darted in that direction. After a few moments of silence, however, he looked back at Roxanne. "I've been to Asgeir. It's cold, and the creatures there have very thick, very fine pelts - a grand place to make a profit, if you can stand the weather."

Again, something rustled. Jon-Jon gripped his bow and peered in the cold darkness. He blinked the sleep out of eyes and slowly stood up. "Here that?" Roxanne might would hear the very subtle sound of dripping water.

One drop...

Two drops...

Three drops...

Then it stopped.

Jon-Jon cocked his head in one direction to listen closer, but nothing. What was really only a few seconds felt like minutes as he anxiously awaited more sounds.

Behind Roxanne came a high-pitched, blood-curdling screech. Something massive battered through the nearby trees, cracking and splintering great trunks. In the darkness came only a darkened shape, making it hard to see what it really was. Within an instant the creature's great tail came swinging at high speeds, sweeping towards Roxanne. Jon-Jon, bow and arrow in hand, had no choice but to roll sideways and tumble down the side of the hill to avoid the tail. He hoped Roxanne would escape the surprise attack unscathed as well...

(Roxanne Fletcher)