[center][h3]Vanjathar[/h3][/center]

Settlements... It had been quite a while since he had left behind the caravans of Narfell, but still it would have been nothing but honesty to say that the half-orc felt unfamiliar with, if not even bewildered by the concept of completely stationary life. The world had so much to offer, so why restrict oneself to one place for the majority of a lifetime ? Always ploughing through the same set of fields, hunting in the same forests or maybe not at all, seeing the same skies. The thought was quite a little horrifying for him. And then of course there were other problems that were caused directly by the aggregation of a high number of people in a more densely packed space. Admittedly some major cities had found the ingenuity and will to take effective measures against it, but the average town was bound to suffer from its inhabitants... biological end products. Living non-stationary did not bring with it such issues in the first place.

No part of Vanjathar was craving for these hotspots of civilization and it sometimes felt as if no part of so called 'civilization' had a particular desire for him either. The moment people saw the pair of tiny tusks sticking out of his mouth and his gray skin the curtain already fell in most of their minds, so who was he to harbor the desire for a daily dose of disrespect ? However, while he could do without beer and tavern brawls, he could not do without the occasional piece of scrap metal or a real blacksmith laying his hands on a sword having become blunt. Unfortunate circumstances simply were not entirely avoidable, he couldn't carry an entire workshop with him.

The rendezvous with his contact was rejuvenatingly different. The elderly man had opted for a small crossing in the forest, a few miles away from the border to Barovia, in order for a final briefing. It proved to be abundantly abstract though, basically only stating that this was going to be a 'prolonged stay' and that he should be 'careful'. While there was a certain awareness that Barovia was mysterious and dangerous alike, there was no such thing as an escape plan. Vanjathar was told about the Vistani and that they probably had the means to get him out most swiftly and efficiently, but that it would also be unlikely to be affordable. In other words: Vanjathar would be on his own, just as he preferred to be. The most challenging solution of all.

The remainder of the journey was a small hop compared to what he had already been through, but now he needed to either find a place and enough resources for himself or some kind of employment in order to keep his stomach filled. Doing the former was difficult if one had so little information at hand, but going for the second option could also yield some more insight about Barovia. Hunting down a pack of wolves and werewolves with an adventuring party sounded doable. Not much talking, but venturing into the forest instead.

The peacefulness of the walk ended for him with the sound of air flowing around his hammer. One could argue that this might not be the most appropriate weapon for enemies such as wolves which could be fast and nimble, but Vanjathar was not in the mood for a hit-more-than-once approach. They hadn't been ordered to bring back any kind of trophies as a proof of their work, had they ? So it didn't matter in which condition bones and teeth would come out of this fight. Also Vanjathar hoped that displaying ferocity was a language those feral animals would understand and maybe run away from it. Their primary target were werewolves, not ordinary wolves.

If only he'd been able to produce enough wind in order to get rid of the mist. Hardly being able to see what was coming felt bad by instinct and his instincts already seemed to be proven right. More than once he could see a beast make a run for him first, then turn around and escape into the fog only to come back a bunch of seconds later. That was... if it was actually the same wolf. The environmental circumstances didn't help with identifying details even at close range either.