Mercenary Scout
My name is Hunter Silvan. I am nineteen and had just finished burying the last of my family. We have lived here at the base of the northern mountains for ten generations. I have grown up learning to fight, track and hunt, my mother had made sure I could read and write as well. Life around the only pass out of the north was always hard. Besides the King’s Keep filled with soldiers, there were constant raids by Dark elves, orcs or goblins, there were occasionally trolls or long toothed lions. I straightened and looked across the fields in the valley below to see a large city. This was where I had been told the mercenary companies wintered. I was looking for work as a scout and started down the road pulling the pack horse …