Adel's 'friends', a total of three, each paused in their conversation to glance his way. To his left sat Sharn, a sizable and formidable looking woman- common traits for orcs. She looked as one might expect an orc. Her skin was green, though of a paler shade. Small tusks protruded from full lips, and her hair was black, pulled back tautly, braided, and wrapped in an attractive bun. Her attire was practical, but not very showy, made mostly of leather protectives and cloth clothing beneath them.

To Adel's right, was Malzyne, a drow who was the smallest and frailest looking member of the group. His skin wasn't quite black, but it was close, as dark a purple as it was. His eyes were a rather lackluster gray, and short cropped messy hair was white, starkly contrasting with his skin. Attire consisted of a simple gray tunic and matching breeches, and a cloak worn over that, though the hood wasn't currently drawn.

Seated across Adel was Terin. He was blond, blue-eyed, and quite handsome with pointed ears and obvious elven features. However he wasn't built like a typical elf, as he was quite tall and muscular, not even dwarfed by Sharn as the other two were. He wore light armor- mostly leathers, but some steel protectives were included with it.

All three at the table gave Adel a rather bland look of disinterest.

"I'm glad to see the three of you too." Adel grinned somewhat wryly and winked at Sharn before lifting his flagon for a sip of mead. "I must say, this is quite the party that I've crashed." Terin groaned quietly and sank down into his seat as Adel set his flagon down with a clank. Spotting a stack of notices on the table, he helped himself to picking him up and casually started sifting through them. "It's more of a funeral than anything." He made a face at some of the notices, noting the rather low numbers showing up as rewards. "Who died, anyways?"

"Adelite!" Sharn's tone with him was rather sharp, and the use of his full name caught him off guard. He turned towards her just in time to be slapped across the face with a rather audible 'smack'. Coppery eyes blinked quite a few times in surprise before he made a face at her. She had always had something of a temper, but even that was somewhat surprising to him.

"What the hell...?" Adel reached up to rub at his face before turning towards the other two, expecting some kind of support- it's not at all what he received, however. Terin was busy glaring daggers at him and Malzyne was staring down at the table, looking more so dejected than how Adel normally perceived him. It was enough to warrant a flicker of concern to his features as he arched a brow at the drow. "What's gotten into you, 'Zyne?"

It was Adel's shin that suffered that time, as a hard boot kicked him beneath the table. Likely from Terin, considering their seating positions. Eyes widened briefly before he started to return the glare he was receiving. With a snarl, Adel was on the verge of saying some unsavory things to the trio before Malzyne finally spoke up-

"Talasa."

Adel's gaze shifted to the drow, somewhat curiously, though annoyance still twisted his features. "...what about her?" The question came hesitantly, as he was never fond of the woman. Even to him, she seemed... creepy. The way she handled her katars, almost lovingly at times, and the way she seemed to so effortlessly control her two lackeys. It had never sat well with him.

"You asked who died." Malzyne's tone was neutral and quiet as he spoke. His gaze finally lifted from the table towards Adel.

"It was Talasa."

It had been a number of days since Adel spoke with Malzyne. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the drow had already begun to seek out the werewolf, but he didn't allow himself to worry. Adel had to think of himself, and had to plot, plan, and prepare in case Malzyne failed in his pursuits.

For so many hunters to have fallen to one man- one werewolf- he couldn't have been an ordinary fellow. Adel wasn't so arrogant or headstrong to follow in the footsteps of his fellow hunters, by rushing into a situation where he knew nothing of his opponent save for the fact he was obviously strong. He wasn't so sure he was prepared to rush in the situation at all, nor did he think that was the best strategy. After a bit of thought, his plan was actually quite simple: Exploit the obvious weakness. Silver.

Lycans always seemed to react a different way to silver, but the common thread was that it was never a positive way. A silver blade would require he approach directly, but silver bolts for his crossbow would allow him to strike without even being seen. The blacksmith had told Adel it would be a couple days before the bolts were complete, so that gave him time to rest and plan out his strategy at the sanctuary.

Adel didn't spend much time with Nessa, or even Theo. The latter was rather confused by the serious nature that seemed to loom over the redhead- a nature that was rather out of character for him. He cloistered himself away in his room to work on his crossbow, repairing and calibrating it to perfection. If it was off, even just a little, the lycan would likely make the orc he fought near the monastery seem like a cakewalk.

Left to his own devices, Adel also had plenty of time to ponder just what he was going to do with 32,000 silver crowns.

It was almost a game to Malzyne - cat and mouse, the pursuer and the pursued. It was amusing to him, to lull the lycan into a sense of being the pursuer, when really, he was moving further and further into his trap all along. Surely the man had to know it, but such knowledge wouldn't be able to save him. Of that he was sure. The drow was a vision of gray, as his cloak, tunic, and trousers all consisted of the rather drab color. The unnatural darkness of the docks surrounded him, however, keeping his location secret. There wasn't even a glimmer of light reflecting off the claws he wore, to give way to where he lurked.

Normally, Soerl's eyes would have been glowing in the darkness. It was an advantage he often used. Since he was doing his best to stick to stealth, his eyes remained normal. They searched the darkness as he quietly landed on the roof of one of the dock houses. Not knowing who he was looking for made things rather difficult.

The silence coupled with the darkness made the docks an even more eerie place than they usually were at night. Workers had gone home, and the paths there weren't used for late night travel. There was nothing there, but soon the sounds of footsteps could be heard, echoing lightly between two of the warehouses used for storage.

His head turned slowly. The footsteps rang out rather clearly to the minstrel. He advanced along the roof he was on. A little noise was made as he sprinted and leaped across to one of the warehouses. He landed on the slope facing the second warehouse. Instead of coming down on both feet, however, he landed in a slide. As he came off the roof, he reached up and shoved his hand (or more specifically the claws that had formed) into the edge. He clung there and looked around.

There wasn't a thing in plain sight between those warehouses, but a voice from that area called out rather clearly and desperately. "Soerl!" A woman's voice, likely very familiar to him.

"Lydia?" That was nearly whispered. How did she get out here so quickly? Where was Zug? Those questions ran through his mind. He landed down between the warehouses. His emerald eyes ignited in the darkness. He was looking for her.

A bit further down the warehouses away from Soerl there were sounds. Shuffling. Scraping. "Soerl!!" There was more urgency in her voice this time, as her cries bordered on a shriek. "You can't stay here! Please, get o-" The voice was cut off, tapering into an agonized scream. Then? There was nothing but the sound of a dull thump.

"L...Lydia!" The scream made him start sprinting. The minstrel was far faster than the average human, but he feared the worst. The anger coursed into his veins. He could feel his muscles tense. His canines elongated and his other hand transformed of its own will. He hadn't transformed completely. Even so, he could hear the wolf in his mind. "Lydia!" He called for the elf again.

Not a word or sound in response. Soerl was left alone with the silence and the darkness. And if he looked hard enough he was also left with a fallen figure, limp and lifeless on cobblestones. Face down, the green hair stood out a good deal, as did the pale yellow dress the figure was clad in.

His eyes were searching frantically, their glow rather bright. He saw the body. His heart skipped a beat. Behind his mask, his mouth gaped open. "N..no, no...no, no, NO!" It was disbelief. Unacceptance. It caused him to stutter and repeat the word. He dashed over to her body. "Zug! Zug, where are you?!" He had to have been there...

There was no one else to be seen. Just the body, and even that was ephemeral. It wasn't at all solid, likely obvious when hands passed through it, sending it scattering and fading in various directions like nothing more than a colorful mist, standing out in the darkness.

"...What?" Was it magic? He had no time to contemplate that it likely meant Lydia was all right. Instead, he was looking around. It had to have been bait. A predator had no trouble recognizing that sort of thing. He should have been paying more attention. He tried to leap backward from the colorful mist that appeared.

A drow, seemingly appearing from nowhere, now stood many feet behind Soerl. The gray hood of his cloak was drawn, obscuring his features. "It would have been so easy for me to have killed her. I regret now that I didn't." His voice was low, smooth, and had a naturally somber tone to it. "I regret showing her the mercy you refused to show Talasa when you murdered her."

"I show no mercy to those who would take my life." He wasn't sure who Talasa was. Nor did he really care. That was likely evident in his tone. He slowly turned to face the hooded figure. The minstrel's own features were obscured, aside from the glowing eyes and claws that had shredded the ends of his gloves.

The drow's head, though obscured, seemed to tilt up in a rather defiant gesture. His tone was smug and hateful. "Then am I to assume Nell tried to take your life, lycan?"

"How dare you!" It wasn't the mention of Nell's name. No, the context is what did it. The story seemed to follow him wherever he went. "Pray to whatever god you have. You'll be meeting them shortly." His stance shifted. He crouched slightly. His claws were held out after he pulled down his mask. His lips curled away into a feral growl. Much like a wolf's, in appearance and sound.

"Touched a nerve did I?" The drow's voice was now filled with amusement. "I believe in no god, lycan. If I am to fall I will be taking you down to hell with me." He held up his arms, holding them up and out at his sides as he left himself in a vulnerable position. "But you had better make sure you kill me, either way. If I walk away from this alive? I will lay waste to all those you hold dear. Your dryad. Your pet orc. Your pretty little sister." Still, he made no aggressive move, even as he taunted.


((Edited and adapted from Live RP))

Within the sanctuary of his room at the monastery, Adel sat upright on his bed, hands clasped upon his knee with his leg drawn in. Coppery eyes were at half mast as he lazily gazed out the window towards the waning half moon in the sky. The appearance was deceiving, as his attention was intent upon it as he lost himself in his thoughts. So intent, in fact, he hadn't taken notice of the elven woman that stood within his doorway, watching him. He didn't hear her knock upon his door, nor did he hear the soft footfalls of her boots upon the ground as she approached. He did, however, feel the soft touch of her hand upon his shoulder.

"Adelite." Her voice came quietly, and was tinged with concern. She took a seat next to him, which eventually drew his gaze away from the moon and to her face.

"I thought it would be a while yet before you attempted to bed me, Nessa." Adel grinned crookedly at the ebon haired elf, though little mirth touched his eyes. "But if you're in a hurry, I won't deny you."

Under normal circumstances Nessa would have been quite livid with Adel for saying or implying such a thing. Perhaps even to the point of earning himself a slap as he had so often with many of the priestesses and maidens that resided in the Felagund Monastery- or a blow from the High Priest himself. He had hardly been amused when Adel declared he required virginal sacrifices... Now was not a normal circumstance. "You've not been yourself for some time, Adel." Nessa focused on the problem rather than Adel's lack of tact. "Theo has told me you've kept him at arms length for days now, and the behavior I've observed from you has been rather odd. Ta dela'min...1"

Arching a brow, Adel regarded Nessa rather carefully, even as her gaze dropped away from him. "I'm fine." He reached out to capture her chin in his hand, forcing her to face him once more. "Really, my dear, there's no need to worry." It was rare for him to smile in a... tender fashion, yet that was the smile he offered her.

She drew comfort from his words, but she was no fool to think there was nothing that loomed over the hunter. "Then tell me- what plagues you so?" Honey-brown eyes, soft as ever, still managed to be piercing as Nessa locked her gaze upon Adel's. It was he who looked away, then.

"Do you remember the hunter I told you of? Zyne?" He had spoken to Nessa, rather vaguely, about the troubles the hunters had befallen upon as of late. He had spoken of the lycan, Talasa, and the drow's intentions. Adel's gaze lifted back to Nessa in time to catch her nod, so he continued. "He was killed." He said it in an almost matter of fact tone, but there was still something quiet in the way he said it. Grave, even.

Nessa reached up touch a hand to her heart for a moment before folding her hands demurely in her lap. "Corellon aista ho...2" A soft prayer was whispered on behalf of Zyne, then she gazed back up to settle her hand gently upon Adel's shoulder once more. "Amin hiraetha.3"

Smiling rather wanly, he reached up to settle his hand upon hers. "You needn't apologize." Adel spoke in quiet tones. "Zyne and I were never close, even if we were fellow hunters. We were acquaintances- not friends. It always strikes close when another hunter falls, but I'm not... torn up about this." It may have seemed callous, but it was simply the way things were. He knew better than to get close to other hunters, and they knew better than to get close to him. "This lycan... he has slain many hunters now." He withdrew his hand away from Nessa's. "I can't keep ignoring this."

They were words she knew were coming, but feared just the same. "Adel, you cannot..." Already, she sounded defeated. "If he has killed so many, how can you be sure you would fare any different than they?"

Never had Adel seen such fear in Nessa's eyes, or heard her voice waver so. Still, he would not sugar coat things for her. "I can't be sure... but you know I'm not an ordinary hunter by any means. I don't intend to rush in foolishly and get myself killed. Werewolves have a weakness, my dear." He turned just so, and gestured towards the table in his room where his crossbow and bolts laid. "Silver. I only need to hit him cleanly with one bolt and that will do the trick." It sounded simple. It really did.

"If that is all it takes, then why have so many fallen?" Nessa's concern didn't seem to waver a bit. "I don't want you to do this Adel..." She spoke rather sternly, as her gaze met his. "There's no reason you have to. Unless it's for the money? That's not worth your life. No amount is!"

Already, he was shaking his head. "It's not for the money. You wouldn't understand." There was annoyance in his countenance, though rather brief. "I can't sit idly by as other hunters are being slaughtered. If something threatened the priestesses here, Nessa, would you truly stand by and do nothing?" He took her silence as a response. "Amin nauva tereva...4" The elvish words came as a solemn whisper.

Nessa fought back the sadness in her voice and the defeat on her face as she regarded Adel for a long time. "Vesta'min?5"

It was after some thought that he grinned lopsidedly, dimples showing. "Amin vesta.6" His stance and tone was confident, since he truly didn't intend to go into a fight he thought he couldn't win.

After more careful consideration, Nessa nodded then leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to Adel's cheek. Such a gesture was enough to shock him enough to wipe the goofy look from his face and render him silent. She brushed a wisp of crimson off his face to meet his eyes with her own. "Aa'Solonar aista lle yassen ho elea ar'curu.7" The corners of her lips flicked up in a very faint, very soft smile, accentuated by the warmth of her eyes. He was silent still, even as she stood and walked out from his room. It was quite some time after that Adel reached up to touch the spot upon his face that Nessa had kissed him. Slowly, his hand lowered so that his palm was pressed to his chest, the thumping beneath almost erratic and audible.

"Hanali baugh'amin corm...8"


1. It worries me...
2. Corellon bless him...
3. I'm sorry.
4. I'll be fine.
5. Promise me?
6. I promise.
7. May Solonar bless you with his sight and skill.
8. Hanali close/constrain my heart...

((This post may contain content that is sensitive or offensive to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.))


With Lydia asleep, Lyric already gone, Zug off on his own, and Meld exploring the city, it was a perfect time for the minstrel to take a walk. He always preferred nature when he wanted to think deeply. It was hard to concentrate in the city. One never knew what to expect there. His hands were in his pockets. He ended up in a small clearing, one where he'd shared a picnic with a very special elf. He smiled to himself and picked up a stone. It was sent skipping across the lake nearby.

Adel's coppery gaze shifted to follow the stone as it skipped across the surface of the water. He'd likely have snorted, if he weren't relying on stealth, as he had never been able to get a stone to skip so far. He had tracked Soerl here, to this clearing. Hidden in nearby underbrush, movements were quick and concise as a silver bolt was withdrawn from its holder to be loaded into his already open crossbow. Throughout the course of the day, he had reflected upon his meeting and conversation with Soerl, but it hadn't made anything clearer to him. Perhaps that was the problem - thinking. Perhaps it was simply time to act and not look back. He raised his crossbow, leveling it at the unaware lycan. He had the perfect opening for a clean shot.

"Hm?" Suddenly, the minstrel was very aware of a presence. He could hear footsteps. Someone that was an amateur at sneaking or just didn't care if they were heard, he figured. Emerald eyes turned in the direction of Adel's hiding place, but he was unaware of the elf. He was looking past him, further in that direction. Adel didn't move. He didn't breath. The sound that he hadn't made didn't go unnoticed by him either. The only thing that moved were his eyes, to drift aside to the small feminine figure that went walking by, mere feet away from him. The woman looked barely a woman, as she was very lithe and girlish in appearance. Dark brown hair that gave an olivine sheen was cropped short in choppy layers. Beneath her brown cloak she wore simple leather armor and protectives over dark green material. Her attention was intent upon Soerl as she stalked towards him.

"Come out. I can hear you clearly." The fact that they hadn't already revealed themselves is what made him think there was danger. His longsword slowly was pulled from its sheath. Emerald eyes were searching for the person. He couldn't locate them directly through his hearing. He only had a good idea. It was only a moment after the words escaped Soerl that the woman stepped out to reveal herself to him. It seemed as if she weren't truly trying to hide herself. So small, to say she were five feet tall would have been a slight overestimation. Tilting her chin up in a defiant gesture, hunter green eyes slowly wandered over Soerl's form, scrutinizing and examining him, as if she were sizing him up. "Soerl Lute?" Her eyes shimmered gold, briefly, as one corner of her lip twitched upwards.

"Afraid you've got the wrong fellow, miss." It was worth a try. He even began to sheath his sword. She was small, but he knew better than to underestimate a potential opponent. He was lacking his hat, which he knew was included in his description. No cloak, either. There was more to the description than a simple hat and cloak, however. Bemusement crossed the woman's features as she tilted her head to the side, gaze hardening. "Do I, now?" She dipped a rather small hand into her own cloak. "There's not many men that I've seen with such a pretty face that have the color of your eyes and hair." From within her cloak she withdrew a silver katar, but she didn't hold it up in an offensive manner. She simply held it so that he could see it, hoping that perhaps it would look familiar to him.

Expressions were something he was used to faking. His sword was sheathed completely. He seemed to give the katar a curious glance. "You do, as I said. Interesting weapon you've got." He wasn't looking for a fight. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared, however. He slid his hands into his pockets. Claws took over the ends of his fingers. The woman smiled, but eyes were mirthless. "A fine weapon, I've always thought. It was one of a pair that belonged to a friend of mine." She ran her finger along the flat of the blade as she spoke. "Talasa." Her eyes shifted to gold once more, almost softening. "We had a friendly rivalry, you see. Who could bring in the biggest and baddest mark. The most expensive - though it wasn't really about the money... I'd earn a few thousand silver, and she'd earn a few thousand more. I earned twenty thousand, so she thought she would earn herself thirty thousand." Attention had wandered away from the katar, to level directly upon Soerl. "I'm sure you know how that worked out." She threw the weapon forward, angrily, towards Soerl's feet, though there was no skill in her throw. Unlike Talasa, she obviously didn't know how to use it.

His hands were removed from his pockets. The claws were quite clear. It was useless to keep up the charade, he realized. Talasa... the one with the katars. The attack from the drow made more sense now. "You won't be the first to die trying to avenge her. All of you are the same. You blame me for your losses, but it's always you who approach me." His claws spread a little. It wasn't a show of force. Merely preparation. "Do you want to die?" It was a simple question from the minstrel.

The woman smiled rather blandly. "Do you think we approach you for no reason?" She asked her own simple question, before slowly dropping to her knees. Both palms were settled on the grass beneath her, and the gold in her eyes intensified. "What a stupid question... of course I do not wish to die. I am sure Talasa and Malzyne didn't wish such a thing either." Behind Soerl, near the lake where water and earth met, the mud there started to shift and thicken into a sort of sludge, oozing further from the lake and closer to him, seeking to entrap his feet and legs.

"You approach because you're greedy. Your own death is all you will accomplish." Two claws were lifted and pointed at the woman. Bright energy sifted around his hand as the energy focused. Since he was concentrating on the spell, he was unaware of the sludge creeping up to him. "Nether Ray." The words were spoken quietly. A thin, white beam of concentrated magical energy shot out at the woman. The woman's smile faded rather quickly, and was replaced by a frown. It wasn't hard for her to see that she needed to move, and move quickly. Palms still on the earth under her, she lowered herself and seemed to melt and merge with it, no longer in the path of the beam. Sludge surged forward, wrapping about the minstrel's feet. Slowly, it started to rise, trying to contain his legs so that he would not be able to move.

His eyes narrowed. Only those who knew the element of earth rather well would have been able to pull off such a spell. When he decided it was time to move, he couldn't. He struggled with his legs, but it was no use. He had to finish her while he still had time. He could already feel his magic begin to slip away. Both arms were thrust outward. The wind picked up and began to howl violently...

She sprung from the ground rather suddenly, like a tree sprouting. Her appearance was that of bark, but it lasted for barely a second before she had taken on the form she had mere moments ago. The violent winds had her snarling, before golden eyes snapped ahead towards Soerl. The sludge was slow in creeping its way up and over his legs. His waist. She hadn't the time to wait for it to take over his arms as well. Foreign words not of common were spoken, likely an incantation, as she held out her hand. A shimmering green cylindrical shield began to wrap itself around her.

His eyes lit up. His key glowed brightly, even beneath the sludge. The air continued to swirl in front of him. Visible, by the amount of magic used to weave it together. Both hands pointed two claws at the woman. He could see the shield arising. He just hoped his spell would be enough. "Fury!" The glow in his eyes and from the key faded away. The wind became completely still as the sludge crept up his chest. It exploded violently into a tornado, from still air. It went tearing across the ground toward the woman.

The sludge continued to rise, over arms, over his neck. However, that is where it ceased its ascent, as the tornado tore its way towards woman and shield. The sounds of shattering glass preceded a scream as the tornado eventually ripped through the barrier and into the woman herself. It had weakened by that point, and only managed to toss her several feet back. She landed with a thud, now covered by thin lacerations. Her shield had saved her life, but upon shattering had apparently backfired upon her. Her chest rose and fell with great effort as she struggled to start sitting back up. One of her arms hung at an unnatural angle from the socket.

His magic was completely gone. He could no longer sense the Tower. The sludge had effectively cut off his connection with the Isle. The Keeper of Air, trapped by a spell of the earth. It was a death sentence in this situation. He struggled, trying to make his muscles break the sludge. It was obvious he could not. The strain was likely evident in his expression.

After watching Soerl for a few moments with a pained expression, she determined she was quite safe. Approaching him, she paused long enough to pick up the silver katar she had thrown down before, and gripped the hilt tightly within her good hand. "To be fair, it is you who attacked first, Keeper." Even in her pain, she smiled at him, her expression and tone full of mockery.

"You will die. Not by me, but you won't ever get to enjoy your reward." In the face of death, the minstrel showed no fear. No remorse. His expression did sadden. Lyric, Poppy, Lydia, Zug, Meld... all of them. He wouldn't be there for any of them. "I'm sorry." His words were whispered to those he thought of, though they could not hear him.

"I didn't do this for money." Shaking her head, the woman started to approach Soerl, keeping her stride slowly. Likely trying to toy with him. "You are not such an innocent man, you know. The bounty started for a reason, and we both know that." She came to a pause in front of him, then lifted the katar, attempting to settle the cool flat of the blade against his cheek. "And who will kill me, hm? Your sad excuse of a family? They'll be even easier to cut down than you were, which I have to admit was rather disappointing..." Her eyes shimmered vividly as she tried to meet Soerl's with them. "It's a shame you won't be able to see what I do to your daughter from hell... but I'll make sure she screams loud enough for you to hear."

Immediately, his eyes flared. They weren't emerald green when they glowed. They turned red. Red like blood. Nor was Soerl's voice his own. The wolf mingled with his usual tones. Something from nightmares. "And when you come to hell, I will eat your flesh. Over and over. I will wait as you are pieced together. Then, I will rend you once more. Again. And again. And again." A wolfish grin settled over his lips. Canines very visible. That was not Soerl speaking at all, any longer.

Katar withdrawn, the woman snarled. She didn't have much time to do anything else, however, before her eyes suddenly widened in shock and she gasped for air. The cause of that was likely the silver bolt that protruded from her throat, coated in her blood. She couldn't speak or breath, and simply choked on her own blood as it surfaced into her mouth. Gurgling quietly, her legs went limp as she fell to the ground, dead before she even hit it. As she fell, so did the sludge that had contained Soerl. As the sludge fell, the red gaze died with it. Soerl took a gasping breath, like he'd been submerged. He was unaware of what had happened after the woman spoke. He was very aware, however, that she was now dead. He blinked a few times and looked around. He could feel the Tower reaching out to him. His magic began to return. "Who's there?" Obviously, he hadn't killed the woman. Who had? He took a defensive stance and looked around.

((Edited and adapted from Live RP))

Not wanting to conduct too much of his 'business' at the monastery, Adel had been spending less and less time there since his run in with Soerl. He currently sat at a table all on his lonesome at The Nature's Bounty. The hour was rather late, so the crowd was sparse - much to his liking. Papers and parchments of bounties were scattered all over his table in unkempt piles.

With a sigh, Adel rubbed at his eyes. He was rather exhausted, but this wasn't something he could simply laze around. The flute he received from the minstrel had been a small boon, but it wasn't enough. He still needed something else. Drinking from his near empty tankard of mead, he set it aside to exchange it for a stack of bounties he hadn't yet gone through.

There was a lagomorph causing trouble with its mischief for people living in the northeastern country area of Rhydin. A wyvern was skulking about paths near the northern mountains, impeding progress for the coming and going caravans and coaches. Goblins in the west were grouping together to terrorize and mug people out and about on their own. Flan monsters had somehow smuggled themselves on some ships so now they were proving to be a nuisance to dock workers. There was quite a few creatures out there causing problems for Rhydin, be they large or small, but Adel wasn't finding what it was he was looking for easily. He didn't stop searching, however, as there were many bounties and posters to look through. Something of use had to be found, and after a good deal of time and searching had passed-

"Aha!"

The few that were in The Bounty, including Ramesh himself, turned to glower at Adel for disturbing the sanctity of the silence. Quirking a grin, he offered apologetic looks all around before glancing back down to the parchment in his hand.

Deep in the southeastern woods of Rhydin, there were reports of attacks on people and animals alike. Not random attacks though, no. Attacks that had all taken place on the full moon. A hunter was needed to investigate and put a stop to the source. To Adel, it seemed very likely he would find what he needed should he investigate. The timing of the moon had to be more than mere coincidence...

Barely registering the malicious intent in the werewolf's murderous gaze as it lurched for him, Adel leaped to the side and out of the way. A large paw laced with razor-sharp claws swept out at him, but missed flesh. Instead, his crossbow was knocked to the side, since he had held it up somewhat defensively. He understood that he couldn't let the werewolf scratch him, or bite him, not even a little bit. The consequences for that would be rather grave, if not a little ironic. If his situation wasn't so desperate, Adel may have found some humor in it.

There was little humor about the big, canine teeth snapping towards his throat.

Spitting out an elvish curse, Adel ducked beneath his line of attack, but he knew that the werewolf would soon be clawing at him. There was no time to draw his katar and use it - not that it would have done any good. The blade was steel, not silver. Holding his hand out to his side, electricity arced between his fingers. Squeezing his hand into a fist, a light surrounded it, electrical energy coalescing through and around the light. He punched out, hitting the werewolf square in the chest. Roaring in pain, he reeled backwards, back arched as the electricity shot through his body, paralyzing him. Adel knew better than to think that would do the trick.

The hunter sprinted forward and around the beast when it was incapacitated, so he would have more room between them, and more time to react to its attacks. The werewolf recovered much quicker than expected. When Adel turned back around, he was struck dead in the face by a large chunk of wood his foe now wielded. His body turned with him, as his head snapped back and he crumpled to the ground. It was hard not to ignore the throbbing pain that exploded from within his head. The werewolf was much stronger than a normal man, after all.

Hearing the werewolf approach, Adel rolled desperately to the side, still unable to truly gather his bearings. Coppery eyes widened as he laid on his side, watching claws slice through grass and dirt where he had just been laying. The werewolf's gaze snapped over towards him, narrowing menacingly. Already, he was growing tired of the dance with the hunter, and his patience was running out.

Adel felt something hard pressing against his side.

His bolt! Adel rolled aside once again, this time grasping the hard, silver shaft on the ground. Evading the werewolf's clawing by an even more narrow margin, he was sure the next time it lashed out, it would find its mark. That's why Adel struck first, stabbing out with the point of the bolt. He buried it deep in the forearm of the werewolf and recoiled when it let out an agonized yowl.

The wound itself wasn't grievous, but the silver had pierced the werewolf's skin. Rather deeply at that. Adel pulled himself to his feet, somewhat slowly, and started backing away as the creature clawed desperately at its arm, whimpering pitifully as a wounded dog might. It wasn't long before the silver was taking its toll, and the werewolf was on the ground, curled up. It shivered violently and whimpered still, trying to fight off the coldness of death as it swept over him.

Adel frowned. The victory felt rather hollow to him. He didn't enjoy watching the werewolf suffer at all, and was tempted more than once to grab his katar, approach, and end its suffering quickly and painlessly. It was a foolish idea, though. While it drew breath, the werewolf could still scratch or bite him. Even the tiniest nick, and it could infect him with lycanthropy.

He waited several minutes after the whimpering had stopped, and the rising and falling of the werewolf's chest ceased before he finally approached. Adel lightly nudged the creature with a boot, sure of its death when it rocked to the side limply. With a sigh bordering on sorrowful, he knelt next to the werewolf and drew his katar. Murmuring a quiet apology in his native language, he grasped a handful of fur at the top of the wolf's head and tilted it back to expose its neck to his katar and worked silently.

Adel walked down the gravel road, tucking a piece of paper in the pocket of his trousers. "I believe this is the general area. In fact, that house just ahead might actually be the correct one." He spoke aside to his traveling companion. "I'm not sure you should keep following me. Not everyone takes to your kind that well-" Pausing, he rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that look. You know very well I tell the truth. It would be as if I walked into a tavern for humans. They'd take one look at me, flood with jealousy for my superior blood, and want to take me out." He grinned. "Maybe not quite that... but you know what I mean."

The gryphon that walked with him squawked - either in hunger or understanding or perhaps even randomly.

"Yes, yes. You're hungry, I know. But you ate all my jerky." Reaching out, Adel ruffled the feathers atop the gryphon's head and around her ears. "You owe me a rabbit, just so you know." He quieted when he came closer to the house, though when his boot squished into a pile of something on the ground he didn't dare look at it. He groaned.

Soerl was resting. Or he was supposed to be. The day after the full moon he always ate more than usual. Even the large breakfast that Lydia had prepared hadn't held him over for very long. He was busy eying the stove (actually the large pot on top of it) and looking at some instructions Zug had left. The orc knew how to cook, the minstrel did not. Zug had also been kind enough to bring some extra food for Soerl. He was making some sort of soup. The smell traveled throughout the house.

"I blame you. No dog would have left a pile like that." Adel continued on towards the house, though his gait had slowed, considering he was dragging one boot across the grass as he moved. Arriving at the front of the house, he gave a glance around. Scraping the bottom of his boot off on one of the porch steps, he nodded in satisfaction, then turned to point at the gryphon that still followed. "Sit." Smiling when she obediently obliged him, he turned to walk up the steps and looked over the entrance. "Hm." Pulling back the screen door, he held it aside as he used the palm of his other hand to hit the oak door a few times, somewhat urgently. He was impatient.

The sound was enough to gain the minstrel's attention. He glanced away from the pot on the stove. He knew it wasn't Zug, the orc had left for the docks not long after Lydia had gone to work. Lydia wouldn't knock. It was her home, after all. He considered finding a weapon, but ultimately decided that wouldn't be the best way to answer the door. He left the kitchen and made his way to the living room. The door was opened and he blinked in surprise at who was standing there.

Even with half his face lightly bruised and swollen, it didn't take any of the charm out of the grin he offered Soerl. Mouth opened to speak, but he paused to sniff at the air. That was food he smelled, and it made his stomach churl with hunger. Most of his lunch had been given to his recent feathered traveling companion. "What are we eating?" Adel stepped forward, trying to bypass Soerl to enter the home.

Had it been any other guest, the minstrel likely would have stopped them from entering. Even he wouldn't be that rude. However, Adel was doing him a large favor so he stepped aside. "It's soup. Nearly ready to eat." He shut the door after speaking.

"Excellent! I'm starving." Shrugging out of his cloak, Adel tossed it on the nearest piece of furniture. "I had jerky, but the gryphon out there ate it all." He turned to face Soerl. "I hope you don't mind her loitering out there. I tried to get her to stop following me, but she wouldn't listen. I'm sure she won't do any damage to your property." Without further ado, he departed. Following his nose to the kitchen.

Soerl glanced at the cloak that had been tossed aside. He said nothing, however. He followed after Adel. "Gryphon? You mean Aeriel? She's Lydia's." Once back in the kitchen the minstrel found an additional bowl and spoon to the one he'd already set out.

Inhaling the air somewhat deeply, Adel let out a sigh of satisfaction before taking a seat at the table near the bowl and spoon already set out. "That's sort of an unusual pet to keep."

"Not the first time I've heard that." He made a hand gesture at the bowl in front of Adel. It hovered over to the minstrel and stayed in mid-air as he moved the pot to a different burner. He turned the knob on the stove, as he'd seen Lydia do, and made sure it was off. Taking a nearby ladle, he spooned a good portion of soup in the bowl. It had chunks of venison in it, as well as carrots. Hardly anything special. He dismissively waved to the bowl and it went back to settle in front of Adel. Then, he went about getting some for himself.

Adel arched a brow as he watched the bowl hover back and forth. "Nice parlor trick." Picking up his spoon, he stirred his soup around some to examine the contents. It looked more than satisfactory to him. "I hope you know how to cook." Lifting his spoon, he blew at the contents to cool it a little before taking a bigger bite than he ought to have.

"You shouldn't complain about a free meal." The minstrel chuckled quietly. He set his soup down on the counter and eyed it a moment. He wasn't so hungry that he'd try to eat it just yet. The steam rising from the bowl was what made that decision for him. "I know how to cook things like this. Food to make while traveling. Simple meals."

"There's nothing wrong with a simple meal." When he traveled, Adel mostly ate jerky, bread, and berries. Soup was a big step up from all that. He was so enthusiastic, he hefted up a large bit again to eat, though he forgot to blow on it this time. Quickly swallowing it back, he muttered an elvish curse. Spoon was set back in the bowl, since he figured it best to simply wait.

While his strength had mostly returned, he still felt a bit tired. That would likely persist until the next day. "No, nothing wrong with that at all. Preferable, usually. At least for me." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm a little surprised you knew where to find me." A bit of admiration was in the minstrel's tone. He'd been quite careful about hiding his whereabouts.

"I track things for a living, most of the time." Coppery eyes shifted up towards Soerl, and a smug smile formed on Adel's face. "I'd be a sorry hunter if I couldn't do something as simple as that."

"Tracking something that doesn't want to be found is a little different than tracking the unaware, though." The minstrel's expression remained pleasant. "So, did you find some suitable proof?" He glanced ar his bowl. He dipped the tip of his finger in it and then nodded. Bowl and spoon were lifted as he looked back at Adel.