Closed Hunting the Hunters [Typhos]

[Noblesse]

Timestamp: xx day of Summer, 513 AV

When a person is new to a city, the first thing one should seek is at least a decent lodging. After that, a nice job to pay for one’s future living expenses. And that is what Typhos Everstorm had just set out to do. He was on his way to the Icewall gates, following an enigmatic tip from the man who people call ‘Oranges’.

The night before, Typhos dropped by the Red Diamond Tavern for a hearty meal and some socializing with the locals. If he wanted to stay for long within the city of eternal winter, he will have to incorporate himself among the Vantha and at least try to get to know these people.

Time went by fast and stories were told one after the other. At some point, a comical tale about a hunting expedition was brought up, and Typhos found himself asking if there was a place where he can sign up for hunting trips. At this, the sour-looking man who had been wordlessly peeling oranges while the whole tavern engaged in merriment stood up. He walked over to Typhos and placed a single orange on top of the foreigner’s table.

“Walk out of the city gates, turn left, then fifty paces till you get to a small copse of trees lining the walls.” The man spoke in his gruff voice, regarding the Isur with sharp, assessing eyes. He walked out of the tavern without another word.

The hunters among the crowd urged Typhos to investigate what the man, Oranges as they called him, wanted him to find. There were knowing smiles plastered on their faces. From what they were hinting, there was a chance of getting hired at a job where he can possibly put his well-defined muscles to good use.

Typhos now faced the vast frozen tundra that was the Northern Wastes, uninviting as it always had been with its endless expanse of barren snow-covered land. To find out what the peculiar man had been muttering last night, the Isur have to remember the man’s words and start his search from there.

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[Tythos Everstorm]

Typhos rubbed away scattered amounts of snow that had begun to gather along his as he tried to recollect on what the old sour faced man had told him the previous night at the Red Diamond. He shook his head distractedly, emerald green eyes scouring the barren white surroundings in front of him. The bitter cold echoed out across the frozen tundra with a frenetic flurry that barraged the senses, and to keep war the pale blue Isur pulled the bear head hide attached to his hunters hide armor over his head to keep the cold wind out of his face. The brown fur covering the bear anatomy armor working in unison with the wool cloak that Typhos worn over the armor to keep his body insulated. Even though he was struggling to grow accustomed to the tundra his expressive emerald green eyes proved he was enjoying every second of the experience. Even though he was an Isur, he held a deep love for nature in all its forms. From the green forest embrace of the Spires, to the alabaster white beauty of Avanthal. Naturally his love of the out doors led him to asking the locals where he could put his hunting skills to good use and was curiously met with an orange as a response. He didn’t eat the fruit that was placed on his table as he held the single orange fruit in his stone like green hand, lifting it up to the level of his face as he stood just beyond the bounds of the city in front of the Ice gate. The orange jogging his memory as he gazed at it and spoke to himself. “Fifty paces left from the city gate.” His eyes darted from the orange to his immediate left trying to search for any sign of flora or trees in the distance. With his head held high with dignity, shrugging his shoulders and fidgeting his shoulder blades to adjust his backpack that held his hunting supplies. Typhos walked with confidence through the snow and simply went to search for what ever it was that the ‘orange-man’ wished for him to find.

[Noblesse]

After a few chimes of walking through the thick snow, Typhos could already clearly see the copses of trees hugging the side of the massive icestone walls of Avanthal. It would not take him very long until he reaches the small pocket of towering Avanthalian pines. If he would look hard enough through the gaps between the coniferous trees, he will notice a trail of smoke wafting to the skies.

Numerous tracks in the snow started getting more distinct as he gets closer to the small wooded area. Some of the imprints were a result of hooves boring deep through the snow. A few more of the marks were of large paw prints belonging to a hunting dog. Oddly enough though, most of tracks were contoured like the underside of someone’s boots. It would seem that the snow had covered the tracks nearest to the gates, but the ones farther away and those heading into the woods were not.

It was strange for people venturing out into the wastes to stay so close to the Ice walls. If one was a hunter, the most obvious thing was to explore an area far from Avanthal since most animals tend to stay away from the city. There were no wheel tracks too, so they also cannot be from merchants who travel in caravans.

Once he enters the small woods, there will be a lot of tell-tale signs of human presence around the area. Boot prints were all over the forest floor, but a few of the sets seemed to lead deeper into the copses of trees. Barks of Avanthalian pines are scratched with sharp, pointed objects. Some more definite cuts appeared to be marks to find the way around the area. One even had a few arrows embedded to its huge trunk, as if someone used the tree for target practice.

If Typhos follows either the marks or the prints on the snow, he will eventually find himself at a clearing. The massive Ice wall loomed ever so closely past the soaring trees. Just behind the massive icestone structure was the woods of the Frostfawn Hold. It was a wonder why no one was talking about this place sitting out on the side of the wastes. At the middle of the glade was a rather large wood and stone building. Faint sounds of music and laughter were coming from inside. Several paces from the wooden door was a single peel of orange.

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