“This is a bad idea Pike,” Erasmus said in a harsh whisper, slumped over Pike’s back and barely clinging onto consciousness.

“I don’t hear you coming up with any bright ideas,” Pike grunted.

“Oi! What are you whispering about?” snarled one of the goblin hunters, aiming his spear at their direction.

“Oh fuck off,” snapped Pike. “You make me carry this guy, I can whisper as much as I want.”

“Pike,” sighed Erasmus, “not when they have a dozen muskets aimed at our backs.”

“I’m a guest, damnit,” Pike rambled on. “Should have rolled out the welcome matt. Your boss will hear about this.”

“Oh shut it,” growled leader of the party. The group passed through the great gates of Hargrave, the sentries peering down at them curiously.

Pike and Erasmus were hurried into the town, mostly to keep the plot moving forward. A crowd a curious, but also stabby looking goblin-men were gathering, trying to size up if the newcomers were rangers, or should be murdered regardless. Pike eyed them all indifferently.

“Holy crap, are you guys ugly. I mean… Greetings friends! We come in peace… yada yada… Take me to your leader! I like my dinner served before five pm at latest.”

“We’ll see about that,” growled a burly goblin with a heavy sabre thrust into his belt and a cigarete between his gnarled teeth. “I am Captain Brag, leader of the militia. State your name and your business.”

Pike glared at the captain. “First things first…” he straightened his back and let Erasmus fall to the ground, shrugging him off like an old cloak. “My companion here is severely wounded…”

“Ah… you bastard…” wheezed the paladin.

“Oh? And how did that happen, I wonder?” Brag stroked his stubbly chin.

“You’ve got bloody monsters everywhere in this country,” Pike said, talking about the werewolf like creatures called Wargs that have plagued those woodlands ever since they were retconned in just now. “Anyway, the man is hurt real bad and needs medical attention…” Pike frowned, as if trying to recall something. “Pl…” he stuttered. “Please…?”

Brag nodded towards two of his men, who hauled Erasmus onto their shoulders and carried him off, followed by some armed guards.

“Good,” continued Pike. “Now then, show me where I can find whoever is in charge of here.”

“I already told you, stranger, that you’ll go through me first,” Brag laid a heavy hand on the hilt of his sabre. “You still haven’t answered my question. What business does two ragged beggars have wandering about the woods in this country.”

“You dumbass,” Pike spat. “I already told your cronies what I’m about. I’m here for work. You lot are hiring mercenaries right now, or is that just the circus outside town right now?”

“We’re hiring mercenary captains and their bands,” Brag sneered. “Not wounded men and… whatever you are.”

“Captain,” one of the scouts staggered forward, bearing in his arms the swords confiscated from the strangers, much to Pike’s annoyance. “They were carrying these, the seem to be of good make.” The weight of the blades was evidently too much for the man to carry with ease. Even the much larger Captain Brag was surprised by the weight of Pike’s weapon when he took it from the scout, unable to lift it with one hand. He inspected the blade, feeling uneasy at the sight of the dark steel that seemed black, like it was perpetually stained by old blood.

“Well… this is a named weapon, for sure…”

Pike grinned and folded his arms. “You wouldn’t know it. But you might know mine. My name… is Pike.”

Pike paused for emphasis, but he was only met with blank stares. He sighed. “They call me The Greyhound…”

Gasps all around. Pike was comforted at least to know his reputation reached even these secluded parts.

A short civilian tugged on Brag’s coat. “Captain, I’ve heard of that man. He’s a fierce bounty-killer with a black sword. Rumour says he took the heads of the Forty Furbolgs in a single night!”

Brag seemed taken aback, but he was determined not to shirk in front of some hobo. “Heh… So we have a celebrity here. But then… we have no way of knowing you’re telling the truth.”

“Give me back my sword. I can give a demonstration.”

“Nice try. But in times of doubt, I find it's best to trust instincts.” Brag put his hand to his mouth and gave out a long, low whistle. “Brutuuuus! Come here boy!”

Pike heard a slight commotion in the the crowd to his left. The goblins there looked over there shoulders and began moving aside, opening up a path. There, padding softly along, loomed a the largest hound that Pike had ever seen. Like seriously, it was the size of a bull. With a mean disposition and a spiky collar just to top it off. The beast saw Pike and let out a low growl, its ears flattening as it stalked closer to him.

Brag chuckled. “I don’t think he likes you…”

Pike winced as the hound pressed its snout neck to its face, drool hanging from its jowls. It stepped away and bared its fangs, circling around him. Pike only stood there impassively.

Brag shook his head. “That settles it then, Brutus here can smell a lie a mile off. At least I won’t have to feed him tonight.” He threw back his and laughed.

The hound was behind Pike. It stopped and hunched up, leaping suddenly, jaws wide to take the strangers throat. The goblin-men all around stepped back, to get out from the splash-zone.

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But then, Pike spun on the spot, delivering a sick roundhouse kick to that dog’s face. But it wasn’t cute anyway, so it’s fine. The hound was send flying into the crowd, knocking several onlookers off their feet. Those who were left standing could only stare in shock.

Pike took the opportunity to strike a cool pose. “You say he smelt a lie, but I say he just smelt terrible…” Pike paused a for while. “That sounded better in my head…” he muttered.

“Pike? Pike, is that you?” A voice cut through the still air.

Pike turned on the spot in confusion, staring at the newcomer making his way through the crowd.

“Talon?” he said, disbelieving.

“Pike! Little brother!” Talon came rushing up, arms outstretched. Myra lagged behind, frozen in shock. She could only stare at the man that must surely be some kind of ghost. As quickly as she had come, she turned and fled back the other direction.

But Pike didn’t notice her, grimacing awkwardly as Talon embraced in tightly.

“Ha ha! Little brother! It’s been too long!”

“Uh… hey Talon. How’s it been?”

“Ugh, Mister Talon, you know this man?” Brag cut in.

“Indeed, this my younger brother. What brings you here, Pike?”

“Uh… looking for a job.”

“Same same.” Talon beamed. “The Lady of Fortune smiles on us friends! I can vouch for my brother here. He is a peerless warrior. With him on our side, no enemy can stand before us!”

“But…” the goblin captain tried to protest.

“At ease, Mister Brag. I take full responsibility for this man, as a member of my own company. What say, Pike?”

Pike strode towards Brag, eyeing him down. He yanked his sword out of the goblins hands. “Looking forward to working together…”

Later, Pike and Talon were sat in a quiet corner in the town’s grog-house. Talon slammed two tankards on the table and took a seat.

“Man… it’s good to see you alive and well, Pike.”

“Yeah,” Pike said. “Good to see you too, brother.” He had never been particularly close to Talon, but he easy to get along with, and Pike respected his strength. Talon was a man who could make friends easily. Pike drank deep from the tankard and smacked his lips. “I didn’t even know you made it through the mountains alive.”

Talon shrugged. “I nearly didn’t, but somehow we both seemed to have pulled through in the end, after we got separated. But when I started hearing stories about the man called The Greyhound I had my suspicion. You’ve become quite famous in the West. Of course I wouldn’t have expected less.”

Pike drained the last of his grog. “Folks around here are just weak compared to back home. Didn’t take long to start earning easy money.”

“True enough. I would have sought you out, but I’ve been trying to keep a low profile. If the Paladins learned that we were brothers, well then they’d be keeping tabs on me as well.”

“Does it matter? I’ve only met a few of them, they’re not that impressive.”

Talon shook his head. “Oh, of course the typical paladins that get stationed in the West all seem likes brutish oafs and pencil pushers…”

“Damn straight.”

“But they’re just the public face of the imperials here. It’s the half you don’t see, now that’s the scary part. Trust me, the government’s intelligence network has its fingers everywhere. They’ve kept close eyes on you, no doubt about it, trying to ascertain how strong you truly far, and how potentially dangerous. I’d bet they even know that you came from the North as well.”

The though of unseen eyes watching him from all around made Pike anxious. He huffed. “Good. I don’t care. A little infamy makes people respect your personal space. Keeps work coming my way too.”

Talon nodded. “Of course. And so long as they don’t consider you a real threat, they’ll leave you alone. But if that changes, and they think you’re too dangerous to roam free, you’ll see a different side to the Paladins. The resources at their disposal are staggering. Can you imagine the kind of monsters at the top of their payroll?”

Pike raised an eyebrow. He had seen very little presence of the Paladins in the country about. If they had any real power, he had yet to see it. “They really got you that spooked?”

“There plenty of bands of brigands, orders and cults, guilds and kingdoms in the world. The Imperial Alliance is just the biggest and meanest of them.”

“If they’re that much of a problem, why not just work for them?”

Talon chuckled. “That would be the safest bet. But not very satisfying. It will be an uphill climb, but I plan on making it big. Hence why it’s important for me to stay out of sight and out of mind, keep a low profile until I’m ready to take to the stage and set out on the Heroes’ Road. It’s actually quite nice working here in the Wild Wood. The paladins don’t watch this place, so I get to stretch my legs a little.

Pike nodded, draining another tankard.

“What’s on your mind, brother.”

Pike shrugged. “It’s been nice catching up. But I’ve got business with whoever’s in charge here.”

“That’d be one called Lord Hob, the king of this city. If it’s pay you're worried about, I’ll be coming into enough to get you a fat piece of the pie. This little war will basically just be a massacre, so there we can’t expect to made kings after this, but it will be a good payout nonetheless.”

“It’s not about money,” Pike said. “I’ve got… something else I want out of this. I can fill you in on the whole story later, brother, but can you get me a meeting with this king or whatever.”

Talon smiled conspiratorially. “Ulterior motives eh? I get that. But like you said, I can fill you in on the juicy secrets later.”

One scene transition later, Pike strode through the doors that two goblin-man guards opened for him, Talon at his side. Sitting at a wide table adorned with maps and papers and wine bottles, was a tall, solidly built figure. Lord Hob (no, not Lord Gram, this has always been his name, promise) turned to size up the newcomer.

“So this is the Greyhound then? Welcome to my city, stranger.”

“About time someone said that,” Pike sneered. “The reception here is garbage.”

“So I’ve heard. Forgive the suspicion of my people. We had enemies break in and make off with a prisoner not two days ago. I’m sure you can understand that we can’t be too trusting of a pair of lone wanderers, now of all times.”

“Everything I’ve heard about these Rangers, it’s surprising your that scared of them…”

“Oh? And what have you heard about the Rangers then?”

“A fair bit, that’s what I’m here to talk about.”

Lord Hob looked to his guards and waved them away. Talon patted Pike’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it then. Watch out, he’s a stingy one.”

When the two of them were alone in the room, Hob took up a spare glass and began pouring wine.

“I have know that that you are a capable fighter, Mister Pike. But as you can see, I have more than enough manpower to justify paying much extra, as strong as you might be. I simply don’t require your expertise.”

Pike strode forward, ignoring the glass offered to him. “Let’s cut to the chase. I’m not here for money. The point is, I’ve spent some time with the Rangers. I know their leader…”

Hob raised an eyebrow. “Are you here to threaten me? If so, it wouldn’t matter if you killed me anyway. There’s little you could do to stop this army marching, now that they smell blood…”

Pike shook his head. “No. Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass about them. If need be, I’ll happily kill the lot of them.”

“Then what are you here for then?”

“There’s one amongst…” Pike said quietly. “Their leader. A woman called Erda.” Hob nodded his head, knowingly.

“Kill them all if you want, but Erda I want alive, and under my protection. If so much as a hair on her head gets harmed, you’ll have me to answer to. But if you can assure her safety, then I’ll fight whatever you want me to, free of charge.”

Hob tapped his chin, deep in thought. “The stories say that you are a renowned man-hunter? Whose tracking skills are unrivalled, no?”

“I’ve named my price, just name a target.”

Hob leaned forward. “I swear that you can have your woman. I can even pay a hefty reward for the man that delivers her safely to you. But in return, I need you to set out and hunt down a particular ranger.”

“Just one.”

“You heard that we had a prisoner escape, did you not? I want that man dead before he reaches the Rangerhome, at all costs. He shouldn’t have gotten far, an old man, named Ruadh.”

Pike paused for a moment, then chuckled softly to himself.

“Consider it done.”