Shortly after the Kazarian left the small island, Hidgken met up with two local trappers. Telfron, the elder of the two and his brother Syler; they have successfully been to the big island many times over the years, and not just on the shores.
They know how to move unnoticed and not get the attention of the Lord of the Forest and its kin, as well as the huge bears in the highlands. Seasonally, they make trips there to trap animals in the winter for furs and hides, which catch a high price on the mainlands of this part of the ocean; the continent of Titans and the great island realm of Runheim. Only people that have intimate knowledge of the island can do this type of endeavor. Most people would perish but they are skilled and were trained by their father, and his father in turn for several generations. They prefer to keep the knowledge to themselves; they don’t need any competition. Most importantly though, they know where the Meibon village is located and that’s information that interests Hidgken.
He didn’t become successful by relying on luck alone, so Hidgken hatches a plan and decides to hedge his bets by sending his personal white raven, it’s an expensive and a specially trained type of raven that goes where it’s trained to go and then return, and it’s trained to fly to the north, to Helvlad Island. This is where his nephew lives and rules with a cruel, iron-fist. His nephew’s ways are brutal but effective, and he needs some brutality now, “to oppose that huge Kazarian savage,” in his own thoughts.
Large hands open the tiny note wrapped around the leg of the white raven and places the note behind a magnifying device; the large hands belong Stromhynd, the nephew of Hidgken. He's a big strong man with a face that looks like it was carved out of rock, not one trace of compassion in his features or expression. Much of his younger days were spent pirating, smuggling, slave trading and fighting. Unlike his uncle, he never let himself become soft and portly, even though he’s in his late thirties, he is as strong as he ever was but an even more skilled fighter from all the years of experience.
Now that it's known there is no witch on White Bay Island, it’s open for exploitation and industry. Hidgken tells him that “a big Kazarian wants it all for himself and I need help in dealing with him.” Stromhynd wastes no time in assembling his men and sets sail. With the winds this time of year and currents, he can make the journey in a day. Even though it’s about twenty-five leagues, and the weather can be treacherous this time of year, he can make it in his sturdy and swift sailing ship called, Aggressor. It used to be a pirate/smuggling vessel, now it’s mainly used for ‘legitimate’ mercantilism, more or less.
The next day he arrives at Little Rock Island during a snowfall under overcast skies. Wearing furs upon his shoulders to keep the chill off, the first thing he does when he steps off his boat is kick a dog off the docks because it was barking at him, breaking some of its ribs in the process. It yips from the kick, and it plummets into the icy drink, it belongs to Cyron’s son; the boy that originally pointed at Koronos when he first arrived at the docks. So, foolishly the boy runs up to Stromhynd, “hey, mister, don’t kick my dog like that!”
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Stromhynd backhands the boy in the mouth and says, “I never said you can speak to me, boy.” While his men still on the gangplank and on the boat laugh.
Most of the men on the docks know who the big man is, as well as Cyron knows the man, who he is, and where he is from, and whom he is related to, but against his better judgment, comes up to the large man and says, “try hitting me like that.” And he gets Stromhynd’s short sword in his belly instead, it came so fast he didn’t have time to even try to move or block it. He falls to his knees while clutching his wounded belly, spitting up blood.
“You’ll die slow, dog, perhaps you will linger on to your miserable life long enough to feel the maggots feast on your guts… one can only hope.” Stromhynd says in a deep dispassionate voice as he kicks Cyron in the face, and then continues on to his uncle’s mansion, with his men laughing as they follow him. He takes great joy in hurting animals and people alike. Men that were friends of Cyron for his entire life simply step aside and let him and his men through, and they say nothing because they are afraid they may see a similar fate, while Cyron’s son screams and cries, hugging his mortally wounded father that is destined for a slow and agonizing death.
All of this was happening while Koronos was searching for the Lord of the Forest and he is unaware that even more men will be coming, fighting men with experience.
Back in the Meibon village in the mostly mountain air in the quiet morning hours, Koronos meets with Soulseeker outside his hut, under an awning. “We should meet them outside of the walls, in the field nearby, or they will burn this place to the ground. In the event we win, you won’t have a home left, and right at the start of winter,” says the Kazarian through the Bond.
Not knowing how warfare actually works because he’s never been to war, the village chief replies with, “no, we should stay behind the walls for protection, that’s why my people build the walls in the first place.”
“These walls are good for keeping out small groups of men, bears, predators and even the mighty Lord of the Forest, however, if your walls were constructed of stones and the huts were made of rocks and had slate roofs, I would agree. Our foes will rain flaming arrows down upon us, many will burn and die. These fortifications cannot withstand a real attack by a company of warring men,” is the response back, not in a cruel way, but with a touch of concern.
Soulseeker nods in acquiescence but changes the subject, “I am pleased you will fight with us, but why would you? You are more like them than you are like us.”
“In appearance only, my Everliving friend, in appearance only. My people are more like the Meibon than they are like the humans. If we are successful in routing or defeating our foe, I would like to winter here amongst you and your people.”
Placing his large gorilla-like hand upon the Kazarians shoulder as the warmth of a firepit crackles nearby, “you are welcome here with the Meibon, Koronos.”