It had been three whole months since the incident regarding Griz, the magically enhanced orc, and the ominous dragon pendant. The pendant itself, along with the runed dwarven shortsword, were kept in the shaman's hut for safekeeping. And that was the end of that.

No orcish warband came to avenge their fallen brother, no magical curse/plague befell their village for having the pendant, and, most importantly, no adventurers came looking for the pendant. 

It was peaceful.

[color=khaki]"Remember, may your prey be beast or person, getting the drop on them almost always guarantees a kill."[/color] Griz whispers as he nocks an arrow and draws it back ever so slowly. Making sure that the deer was more focused on the pile of berries he left in the open rather than the goblin hunters hidden in the canopy above. He stays deathly quiet, going so far as to not even breathe at the moment before he loses his arrow. It embeds itself into the creature's upper body. It lets out a pained bawl before dashing off deeper into the woods. [color=khaki]"A good clean hit."[/color] He says with a smile as he turns to face his hunting companion, Breden. [color=khaki]"It won't make it far. Care to show me how good you've gotten with tracking?"[/color] Griz asks the younger goblin. Hoping that he'd been helping the younger hunter improve himself during the times he'd asked him to tag along while hunting for the tribe.