The dull sound of metal hitting wood resounded from a small shack in a rhythmical beat as it forced it's disturbance into the darkness of the early morning. Brone liked working early this way there was no one else around, preferring the silence of the night and to simply let his mind drift as he got about cutting up the meat for his masters shop. He continued to bring the cleaver down on the large slabs of meat and stared out from the shack with the carcasses of farm and woodland animals alike hanging from hooks almost as if watching in dull fascination of their fate in the afterlife. In the distance he could make out the obscured image of the village from a day untouched by light. He spent a lot of time watching the village as he worked. Not that their was much else to see, the woods lay the in the other direction and only farmland lay past the village proper. Soon the sound of his work would wake Grima his master, which suited him just fine he liked master he saw the world fairly and besides there would be no one to run the store in town if he didn't wake soon. He frowned at the thought Grima was old and he worried about the day he did not wake up, while the hunters would deal with Brone the villagers preferred him where he was and that was outside of whatever line they believed was the village proper. His mood beginning to darken he unconsciously began to strike harder and faster as if doing so would drown out his darker thoughts.

The door to the shack burst open showing a older man within the last years of life but still spry enough to be angry about it. The disturbance to his thoughts startled Brone and he struck harder then he intended upon the cutting board sinking the blade deep into the wood and breaking the handle. "Now you've done it you fool not only do you make so much unholy racket that I'll be sure to be asked about it all day by unhappy harlots, as if to their blame miserable lives on me but now we need a new cleaver you five cursed lout. " Grima fumed. Staring down at the old man he had to try not to smile despite his words they lacked real venom and few if any actually would speak this way to him. Grima was slightly taller then most but even so he only came up to Brone's waist. Instead of answering he turned and ripped the blade free it was never sharp to begin with and was more a iron wedge than a true cleaver, holding it by the blade he brought it down and cut the last part of the meat. Turning to face master again he waited. "Oh think your smart do you, think that big noggin is better because it must have a bigger brain well I tell you what, if you have a brain boy it's up your ass. Now help me load this up so I can get to town maybe I can threaten the blacksmith into fixing that damn thing or at least sell me a used one cheaply." "Master is too old to be scary." Brone's voice matched his size low and gravelly being nine feet tall and of a unnaturally broad stature many would not think he was only of seventeen winters instead of the living mountain of muscle he was. "Oh no one cares about old Grima thinks but when I tell him my half-ogre broke his favorite cleaver and that he will be right upset if he doesn't get it fixed then I'm sure he will be happy to help. Now lets hurry up or I won't get to so kindly wake that greasy bastard." Grima turned with a smile and walked out. Turning he quickly wrapped the meat he had cut up earlier and put it in a box with the rest taking it out the door he stacked it up with the rest of the boxes next to his shack then hefted them all up at once and brought them to the cart as Grima was hitching his mule to it. Setting the boxes in the cart one by one he asked Grima what would happen if the blacksmith told the guard. "He won't and even if he does the guards won't do shite about it they're all too afraid of you." Grima said gruffly as the mule was being stubborn as usual. Frowning he decided to push the issue. "They barely allow me to stay here as it is." Finishing with the mule Grima turned towards him, "I'm going to explain life simply for you since apparently you've been using that ass brain to ill effect, humans hate whats different and you're different boy they'd kill you if they thought they could but humans fear the unknown more then they hate different. You Brone are a unknown you live away from them and few ever see you add in the fact that the half of you that isn't human is a goddamn man eater and none are to keen to risk it. Besides how do you think I sell so well? They all think you're my five cursed pet so as long as they keep me happy I won't sick you on them. Now shove off I'm done talking, to early in the morning for you to suddenly start chatting more then those spinsters in town." With a final irritated huff Grima started leading the mule to town. Turning he decided to started to the next and more enjoyable part of his job as he walked towards the woods, butchering game and livestock for the village was fine and all but Grima also managed to harass a hunter to teach Brone how to make traps so that they would have increased meat to sell. Mainly because as Master put it, Feeding and clothing him was like caring for all the fatherless bastards of the kingdom at once.

Brone enjoyed the ambiance of the forest. For all master insulted him for as he insulted everyone he never complained about Brone's love of the woods. Brone knew the woods well, something about it all spoke to him. While humans may of left nature behind and moved into a world of iron the ogre in him had not. There was an acceptance here in the woods that he lacked else where. Here he was a predator and the woods knew that and accepted it. Though maybe that was the problem in the village as well ogres where said to be man eaters so much so as to specifically prefer them as their prey. He personally had never wanted to eat someone himself. Stopping to inspect some disturbed foliage seeing that some wild boar had been through the area, he continued onward returning to his thoughts. Ogres where apex predators of the forests and where feared as such for many reasons. Immense size and strength was only part of it they had thick hides that only the finest of weapons could penetrate, while able to withstand grievous wounds and recover quickly from them. But to humans the worst part is their cunning. They could speak human words and understood it even if not as well as others and where surprisingly stealthy for monsters so large. Brone himself was stronger and bigger than any person he had ever seen but his skin was the same pale tone as a humans instead of the greys of a ogre. He had been born bald like one though and never grew hair, the only hair he had was his eyebrows, he couldn't even grow facial hair. Brone thought that he really just looked like a really big regular person. Others didn't share his sentiment as much, when he was younger he had tried going into town once to see what it was like. Anyone that had been outside had quickly went inside, leaving him with a pair of nervous guards saying that he needed to go home due to causing a disturbance of the peace. Grima had told him later after he had refused to work the next day that while he didn't scream ogre upon first glance anyone that looked at him would know. Humans just didn't have the same level of muscle mass as he did, they just couldn't accomplish it no matter how hard they tried, His face too betrayed him having enough discernible traits of an ogre as to not exactly make him truly hideous but enough to show his lineage. Walking along as he thought of ogres and how despite never meeting one they affected his life he came upon his first trap. He had smelt the blood earlier as he had contemplated his own self but as it came into site he could tell whatever he had caught had been taken by a scavenger. Inhaling deeply through his nose he could tell he had caught a fowl of some sort and that the scavenger had been a canine. Likely a coyote or feral dog the scent being too old to specify the exact type of animal likely having happened soon after the trap had originally been laid the previous morning. He doubted it could be wolves as they tended to have enough intelligence to avoid the area. They seem to know a ogres scent even a half breeds when they smelled one and apex predators took territory seriously. His sense of smell was one part of being a ogre he didn't mind so much. Others always seemed so ignorant to the world around them. It's why he preferred to not talk so much, if people remembered to talk less they would hear more. He could even find his way in the dark without issue as long as he stayed quiet and used his nose. Taking the trap with him he continued on his way he would need to set the traps in a new area regardless of catch or not as to keep the populations healthy. The next couple of traps had stayed untouched. He did not like how his day was turning out so far if he had nothing to show Grima would be even more incensed about the broken cleaver. Coming to his last trap he heard loud squealing along with the faint smell of blood. His only iron trap had apparently turned his luck around. Looking around he found a nice large rock that fit in his hand easily and began to walk towards the sound as it came into site he was greeted with the sight of a large boar. Squealing madly the boar began to move erratically upon seeing him, moving quickly Brone lunged forward making sure to keep his legs from the tusks and struck the boar in the head caving in the skull. With a last gargled squeal it fell over and spasming as blood frothed from it's mouth and trickled from it's eyes finally going still seconds later. Looking over the boar he appreciated his catch standing the beast had been almost half his height and probably weighed close to three hundred pounds. Grima would be secretly pleased not that he would do or say anything to show it. He and Grima had a strange relationship from what he gathered from the hunters on the occasions they caught enough extra to sell. Grabbing the boar and throwing it over his shoulder he began his walk home in a decidedly better mood then when he started his day. As he walked deciding to take the long way back he remembered the one time Grima had decided to be neighborly and go to the town's harvest festival and returned drunk. That night was the most Grima had ever shared with Brone about how he came to raise him. Grima had stumbled up the path late at night the odd smell of alcohol having woken up. He found the old man shirtless and ranting about the stupidity of others. He was tempted to let him stumble along in the dark and likely sleep outside but he was old and Brone feared the cold would kill him. So as he helped him along Grima continued his tirade about mostly nonsensical thing eventually going on to tell him he should be grateful for the stupidity of others. "You know if it wasn't for my daft daughter you'd of never been born boy. Didn't matter that we had been warned of a monster in the forest, noooo idiot girl couldn't wait to be with some boy she fancied and instead of rolling around in a barn like a pair of proper sinners they went to the forest to hump like animals! Well I guess your father liked what he saw because we found the half eaten corpse of the boy in the afternoon the next day. We didn't find my daughter though until a few months later when a hunter came across your sorry ass covered in blood and her corpse beside you. Died in childbirth they said. Fucking idiots anyone could tell that, you could of eaten normal babies at your size. We knew what you where you too. You looked like one then all grey skinned. Caused a big commotion that, the boy was a noble's bastard and apparently his only son and now they knew what had done it he gathered up a big party to hunt the beast it killed most of them and fled the territory after. Prick screws my daughter kills her then leaves me with the brat. Wife wanted us to kill you as well. I told her she could go suck the counts cock. So I took you and moved out here to the ass end of nowhere and here we are a old man and his half breed grandson. So be happy lad for the stupidity of others both theirs and mine or you wouldn't be alive. For all he smelled of alcohol that night he seemed very sober in that moment. Yet he never mentioned it again of me being his grandson or the death of his daughter. So I acted as I never heard it, how things where worked for me as I assumed it did for him.

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As he exited the forest screams and squeals not unlike that of the boar could be heard and Brone was assaulted with the smell of blood not of the boars in the air, they noise was coming from the village he dropped the boar as ran to the towards it without thought. As he came to the first house the stench of blood and bile became more distinct, permeating the air as if to drown the world in it. Grima would be at his shop by now continuing forward he headed for the market square. As he passed the house felt a sharp pain in his back turning to look a arrow fell to the ground the likely culprit to the pain. Coming out of the house was a ragged looking man in leathers with unkempt greasy hair drawing back his bow with another arrow already knocked. "The fuck your mama feed you to make you so damn big? My arrow didn't even go deep enough to stick you unholy freak." The man shouted. Charging forward as the man loosed another arrow that only shallowly cut his stomach he pulled back his fist and punched the man in his sternum caving in his chest and lifting him up from the ground, throwing aside the body with a sick pop he continued once more towards the market square sparing little thought for the fact that he had just killed a man. There in the center of the village did the carnage of the events here show itself four men like the one before stood about cleaning their weapons as bodies littered the ground their blood soaking into the earth but none of them the old man. As for the men living two where holding axes while the third had a spear and the last a sword all wearing leather armor. He could make out screams coming from some of the houses but they sounded of women not men. Grima wasn't here Brone would have to look around and hopefully pick up his trail. Walking into the square the men turned towards him and stared. He was covered in blood from the boar and perhaps some from the man as well lingered on his arm. The the scrawny one with the sword spoke first "Don't just stand there kill the giant cow fucker." They came at him then, The first to reach him swung his axe at Brone's neck, by instinct he raised his arm the axe biting into him it hurt but the pain was dull with the axe still in his flesh he reached forward grabbing the man by the neck hefting him up he swung him at the one with the spear. Brone could feel a resounding pop from the mans neck as he let the body continue forward sending the other man to the ground under the dead weight. Grabbing the axe he pulled it free with a grunt. With it he faced the other man with a axe who was standing there as if dazed and with the practiced ease of a butcher he brought the axe down in a swift strike cleaving his head in two. Brain matter and blood erupting outward as the corpse crumpled to the dirt. Facing the direction of the one who had held the spear as he was crawling out from under his dead companion. Moving closer Brone saw that his eyes where wide and wild similar to a deer when panicked. He could smell the fear from him as the man crawled as fast as he could seemingly unable to get his feet under him. Kicking him in the side he sprawled over gasping for air as Brone put his knee on the mans back he brought the axe down into the side of his skull.

Standing he faced the scrawny man with the sword who had stayed back from the fight yet had not taken the chance to flee. He was lean of frame and only slightly taller then most, his face sharp and narrow. Every instinct Brone had screamed of the mans weakness yet his eyes where held a colder cunning. Looking to the axe in his hand he decided it did not matter what he was like, he would be even easier to deal with now that he was alone. Just as he stepped forward to finish then and return to finding Grima the man spoke. "Wait, no reason to go killing me there friend, perhaps I can help you out you seem like a man after something. Big guy like you must be looking for his girl right? I can help just tell me what she looks like I'll take you to her even help you kill anyone you want, sound good? If your upset about the insult no ill intent was meant just a harmless joke between friends right? Me and you we're friends it's why I only had the others attack, you know friendly greeting among mercenaries and all." He spoke in a quick and flippant tone. Brone didn't trust the man but he needed to find Grima. "Old man named Grima, where?" he asked. "Oh so no wife that's good, not sure how that would of gone heh. The boss has all the old folk and children at the big house over there near the farms to see if any is worth a ransom. Better hurry boss kills any not worth a damn." Grunting he pointed the axe at the man and gestured him to lead the way. He gut told him that having this one in eyesight was the best thing to do. "What about men and women?" he asked. " We kill the men less chance of them fighting back and trying to escape. As for the woman they are currently providing services to the fine lads of the crew, you know payment for not getting killed." Brone was not bother hearing about the men being killed nature was about survival if you win you lived, lose you die. However he did not know how he felt about what was being done to the women. He cleared his head though this was not the time for unnecessary thoughts. As they got near the house he noticed that the men around this one where different the leather they wore was newer if not just in better condition, and some wore chain-mail and carried shields along with with their weapon of choice. The oldest looking of the bunch with a touch of grey in his beard turned towards the man who led him here. "Corvus what are you doing over here and who's the walking period?" the older mercenary demanded. "Ah this is my good friend" he paused looking at me. "Brone" "Ah yes my good friend Brone you see he wants to meet the boss about joining the crew thing is his buddy is in there and Brone won't be to happy if his buddy gets killed. Now I know what your thinking but hear me out Brone here has a lot to offer, mainly he killed Remus, Larry and Troy. Poor Larry pissed himself in the end to which I say counts as an excellent résumé." Brone felt Corvus sounded quite pleased with his little speech. However the other men had tensed and where now looking to the older one as if waiting for the signal to attack. He stared Brone down with a silent intensity. "Red get the boss we'll let him decide, I don't like this but damn if that isn't the biggest son a of bitch I've ever seen." A man with a mass of red curls in a pony tail went inside the house, as all the men cautiously eyed Brone. Moments later a man that Brone felt could also claim to have some ogre blood stepped out of the house his short blonde hair almost brushing the top of the door frame. He was a bit more then two feet shorter then Brone himself but to the others he stood head and shoulders above them. His attire also spoke of importance for his armor was plate-mail, it bore the scars of battle but no rust touched it. In his right hand he held his helmet and in his left he gripped the handle of a claymore sword as it rested on his shoulder. Looking to Brone he spoke in a rough voice " Something tells me you didn't kill some of my men to try and join my group so who the fuck are you and what do you want?"