[center][color=cyan][h1]Logan Thetch[/h1]
[h2][u]Tarantis[/u]
[u]Kron-Nesis[/u]
[/h2][/color]
[/center]

Logan approached the elk hanging by its legs from the tree; a majestic creature, massive with wide horns. He'd been hunting this particular beast for the better part of a week, and now that he'd killed it he felt a small sense of sorrow. Not for the creature, but for the hunt and the challenge that it provided; it was a wonder that a creature this size could be so elusive, and yet mixed in with that sorrow was a sense of accomplishment. He approached closer and laid a hand on its thick hide, feeling the heavy muscles underneath and gave it a small pat then cut the rope that held it onto a branch.

With a grunt he lifted it onto a shoulder and began his trek back to Tarantis.

The massive marble and whitewashed stone gatehouse came into view several hours later, its polished walls shining in the sunlight as if to awe those who approached the capitol of the Grand Kingdom. To him however it was little more than a nuisance, he'd been in the city long enough that he grew almost tired of the way the city seemed to show itself off, as if it were somehow the greatest kingdom in the world. He wondered, not for the first time, if it was even defensible, if that gate was actually as thick and strong as it looked; in the north, they made their castles with rough stone. Defensible structures. Squat and thick, nothing so flashy, perhaps even ugly things, but their walls were a bitch to break down. But perhaps the Kron-Nesi were so secure in their power that they didn't think they needed such defensible walls; after all to these particular southerners, it seemed appearance was far more important than functionality. It made sense then that a proclamation of near absolute power would be to have structures such as those before him as if to dare anyone to try and break them down. If they could even get near. 

"You planning on entering the city with that thing?" A guard said as he approached the gate, pointedly looking at the massive elk dripping blood on the white cobbled road.

Logan simply stared at him for several long minutes and as the silence stretched on, the guard began to shuffle and looked at another guard uncertainly.

"He probably doesn't even understand you," the other guardsman offered with a smirk.

The first guard closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "That," he said loudly, pointing at the elk. "Do. You. Plan. On Entering. With It?"

"Aye," he said.

The guards looked at each other again as they realized he wouldn't offer any more.

"Would you rather carry it for me?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

The guard looked at the elk, then at him and spat on the floor and waved him in, mumbling something about foreigners under his breath.

Logan walked through the wide streets of the city and as he drew closer to his destination he was well aware of the stares he was getting, young children pointing at him, others looking at the blood the carcass was dripping in indignation, and pedestrians making way as if to avoid him or the carcass on his shoulder. One particular woman screamed when he turned a bend, staring at him wide-eyed and pale faced. He ignored her as he passed by, making his way to a large white and marble building, the stench of meat and blood wafting from it's open counter as he slammed the carcass onto the marble surface. The butcher came out soon after from a postern door, a thick brown apron stained with blood and gore over his fine clothes.

"Logan," the butcher said, eyeing the carcass. "I see you've got me a fine beast. Took you long enough."

"It put up a worthy chase," he said in a thick accent and deep voice.

"I'm sure it did," the butcher said and placed a bag of coins on the table. "You have my thanks, northman."

Logan grunted. "The head," he said. "I'll need it."

"Whatever for?"

He simply stared at the butcher, and the bulky man shrugged and brought out a cleaver and began slamming it on creature's neck until it came free. "There's your head, then."

"My thanks, Barthem," Logan said and lifted it by its antlers and walked away, Sorin flying down and landing on his shoulders, looking at the elk head with one curious eye.