Needing to make some preparation beforehand and wishing to consult my farrier friend Aaron, I stopped in Gratalm and there did borrow Aaron’s heavy hunting bow for this was no idle errantry I planned.

Before setting out to hunt this kind of “rabbit” one is wise to take all pains to mask one’s scent (so Aaron counseled me)so accordingly I did prepare a tincture of the common parsley plant, using it liberally to wash both myself and sponging it on my leathers.

Thus did I fox any questing noses lifting to the wind borne scent of manflesh. Aaron lent me his hunting bow and six arrows, advising me that if six wouldn’t do, the seventh wouldn’t save me either.

The trail I followed was cold but I gave myself five days to see if it would warm sommat before turning back, considering the quarry flushed and gone.

The first two days were uneventful, the track did not clarify and the animals of the forest went about their lives giving me some assurance that I was not in imminent danger of running up on the backside of my quarry.

On the third day I came upon the remains of a camp and poking about I discovered more of the small prints that had so intrigued me..they were much scuffed about and overlain with the orc prints and I was still not sure what beings had made them.

The trail was beginning to warm slightly now but the company was moving steadily ahead of me so I was not yet certain of my success.

Toward the end of the fourth day I noted the forest was subdued, the animals were gone to ground and even the birdsong was diminished.

Now I decided to take the “canopy trail”(I see thee laughing at me for thou dost know my dislike of climbing, but needs must....)

The forest canopy provided me with some safety and the overarching and interlaced boughs were easier than I thought to traverse.

On the fifth morning I re-applied the Parsely, again sponging my leathers as well as my body, and added some camoflaging bits of greenery about myself as well to break up my outline.

The forest was very silent as I made my way, except for one cheeky little red feathered fellow who’s courting song did sound like..”looking for a PRETTY girl”..knowing what had passed below on the track I was grimly amused to silently tell the bird he was unlikely to find one that day.

Toward the middle of the afternoon I heard a new sound, some coarse and gutteral cacophony that made my blood run cold for it’s very bending of the air with “otherness”.

Now did I indeed call upon every skill of stealth that I have learned. For I had no wish to wind up in any orc stewpot and do not underestimate their abilities or watchfulness.

Presently I arrived upon a widenening of the forest and was able to overlook the camp from the nominal safety of my forest aeryrie.

So from this stand I watched the orcs and saw the beings that had excited my interest. They were smaller than the orcs and my heart was stricken for I feared they were some folks taken prisoner and traveling to a dreadful fate.

I could not draw closer for obvious reasons, but I did silently observe the movement below and await some clue to the identity of the “prisoners”.

The orcs being on the move, made a rough camp and I saw three of their number go out to set watch. Interestingly they watched the back trail, and to east and west but no watch was set to the north as though the orcs were confident that way was warded safely.

The beings were covered completely with rags and bits of clothing that hid their true features from my sight. They were directed by the orcs to tend the fire, performing the ordinary chores of gathering wood and water and that sort of thing..they were chivvied and harried about I noted, with rough blows and raucous laughter as they stumbled and fell, dropping their burdens.

This “delightful” entertainment went on for some time..the orcs taking their leisure while their thralls did the work as best they could.

Watching from my hidden view I was much sickened by the noisesome taint of the orcs, it resonated most unpleasantly upon the center of my being which is instinctively tuned to the balance. But I did keep these thoughts far back in my mind and kept my first attention on what was passing below me.

The three “skells” had been shambling about their tasks with a dreary air of lassitude when suddenly one of them threw up its head and froze in the center of the camp, dropping the bits of wood it had been carrying.

The hideous noise of orc amusement increased as they got to their feet and approached the stricken skell..as the orcs encirlced the creature it began to most piteously try to break through, running in panicked circles as the orcs feinted catching it.

Finally tiring of the game, one orc did grab the skell and lifting it up drew a knife and slit it’s throat..(my friend the sound of the skell’s thin scream as it’s doom was manifested,.....no words..I can not speak of my horror)

To my horror struck eyes, the orc did then render the poor creature like a lamb and toss the meat in the cooking cauldron. Even worse the remaining two skells seemed unaffected by their fellows demise and calmly went about their duty, one stirring the pot while the other threw in some other ingredients.

I had no recourse but to stay the night with these unlovely folk, and did so..I would see it out and when the creatures left in the morning I meant to descend to the camp and see what manner of meat they had supped on that night.

(It was a loooooonnnnng night my friend..) The forest was yet dark though I felt it was approaching dawn could I have seen the skyline, when the orcs broke camp and left by the northern path, the two skells falling into march at the rear.

Waiting for the sounds of the company to diminish and even more time to be sure one did not return for some unknown reason, I finally did descend to the forest floor and investigate the remains of the cookpot.

Finding a skull rolled away in the ashes I examined it and am satisfied that these skells are not any folk that I am familiar with, if ever they were elf, human, or dwarven...they were so debased that that thread has long been broken.

Retreating from that unlovely scene, I made my way back with as much caution and stealth as I had my advance.. I determined there was no threat to any that lived in the villages about the Inn so did not tarry nor send thee word at that time but took the portal to Vos and there a horse to join my folk on the SerpentSlide River in the Northern Plains.

I had marked the direction of the orcs and whether they meant to emerge on the southwestern borders of the herd range or not, they did go north and it was imperative that I tell the clan council that they may send word to the riders to “ware”.

And so ends the accounting..I stay for a space with my people for we cull the three-year olds and I have some business of my own regarding my own small herd. And one other thing which you did give me leave to mention if I knew a wise person or mage that may have some word to help thee in that thing which lies close to your own heart’s quest.

The shaman for our clan is a man of great wisdom, gathered and distilled from his long years of travel and study throughout the lands.

He did take thought upon thee and sends this word.. Blood calls to blood Be not vexed with me my friend for I only relay the riddle.