WOT Adv 50

-- The Wheel Turns --
"I am glad that you have been spared. Those animals were unusually ferocious; they must be very hungry if they were willing to chase human prey and fight to the death."

"Aye that they were," Vanir answers. "I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get to Hurin to aid him when the other one arrived."

"Are you all right?" You query.

"Yes," Hurin says and smiles. "Yes, we're fine. A little roughed up but we'll manage." You can tell that both men have some minor wounds, but otherwise are alright.

You eye the men. They don't appear to be wearing Taraboner dress. Or if they are, they aren't dressed like the Taraboner soldiers you've enountered.

"You don't appear to be Taraboners," you say. "Where are you from?"

"They're from the Borderlands, Maer." Maeslyn tells you. "Shienaran, in fact."

"Yes," Keb answers. "You can tell by their long hair tied up in a topknot. I've seen a couple before in Caemlyn."

You nod, making a mental note of that. You pull out your long dagger, and the men cautiously take a step back, you then move to the nearest dead mountain lion and begin your work. This one is a male. You plunge your kinife into it.

"So what are a couple of soft wetlanders like yourselves doing in such dangerous territories fighting with hungry, overgrown kittens," you ask with a smile as you begin skinning the mountain lions.

"We work for Lord Ingtar and are tracking some criminals," Hurin explains and then his voice takes on a hint of polite coldness. "And we are not 'soft wetlanders' Desert Walker. If you knew our kind, you would not call us soft."

He then turns and with Hurin they start gathering up their gear. "I am sorry that we don't have much time to spare for conversation; we must be on our way. Again, thank you for your assistance."