Azatot is a young traveller exploring a Swamp at the moment, as he walked through the swamp, he noticed a few lights in the distance and approached them, little did he know that his first adventure had just began. As he reached the lights, Azatot was able to get to the village without any trouble. As Azatot walks through the village, he notices a tend with lights inside, and approaches it slowly. Azatot goes inside and sees a pöd woman sitting in a cushion infront of a small table, with candles on it. The old woman slowly raised her head as she studied Azatot, she said, "I expected you... someone who would be able to help village, sit." she gestures to a cushion at the other end of the table. Azatot looks at the old woman thinking of what to do, he decides to sit down and slowly takes a seat. Azatot asks "How did you know i was going to come trough this village...?" the woman thinks for a moment then says, "Because the swamp whispers..." She leans a bit forward studying Azatot again. "This village has been getting raidet year after year... they take what we have, destroy our village each and every time, sometimes even take people." She sighs and her shoulders seem to fall a bit and says, "They are not many, but were to weak to deffen ourselves against them, and they know that full well." Azatot shifts in his seat the slight feeling of unease growing with each passing second, he asks, "If you knew i would come, then you would know that im not here for a fight, what do you really want from me?" The old woman studies him again this time longer than before. "Not slaughter," she replies. "I want the raids to stop, drive them off our village, break their leader's hold." She gestures outside into the direction of a nearby mountain. "We're too weak to survive another year like this." Azatot sighs slowly, nodding one time. "Tell me where their camp lays," he says, "and everything you know about them and about their leader, if im doing this im doing it carefully." The old woman's smile fades away, replaced with smth grave. "Their outpoast lays east from here, in the mountains." She tells about their leader, a scarred brute named Grathmok, who rules less by power than fear. With this knowledge, Azatot departs before dawn, dirt clinging to his clothes and mud sucking of his shoes. The journey is slow and long, the distant sounds of what ever lives else in this swamp can be heard in the distance, and deeper in the swamp. When he finally reaches the mountains, he sees the lights of the outpoast on top, Azatot dosnt charge in without any plan. He watches, counts, waits. His first strike is quick, and quiet, leaving no time to raise alarm. Azatot dosnt fight with mindless slaughter... he fights to disarm, to break their will to fight, to make doubt come up among the orcs. When he faces Grathmok, he dosnt charge imidiatly, and when Grathmock charges, Azatot dodges, studying Grathmoks's movement patterns, then Azatot finally charges, Grathmok charges too and Azatot manages to dodge just intime, and his clothes get touched by the blade of Grathmoks's axe, and attempts to slice Grathmoks's head off, and succeeds. As Grathmok falls, the rest of the remaining orcs start running as they saw their Leader fall, and they flee deeper into the mountains some even into the swamp. He takes a few resources like food, and returns to the village, bruised and wounded. A bit later he finally gets to the village, and goes back into the tend, inside the woman sits there again and raises her head slowly her face lighting up instantly, "So you finally returned..." she says with a kind smile. Azatot sits down slowly and answers, "Of course, did you thought i wouldn't come back?" The old woman shakes her head, and says, "You have my thanks, without you our village wouldn'd have survived the next year." Azatot replies, "Im thankfull i was able to help, but i should probably start travelling again." The old woman follows him outside and Azatot gives her all of the resources and food and stuff, and the old woman says "Its fine take as much as you want, and need." Azatot tries to argue but the old woman leaves no room for that, and offers him a Horse to travel faster. He resiplies, and bandages himself. After he finishes he takes off into the distance, torwards the new adventure.
