The wind howled through the trees, causing them to shudder and creak. The creaking was always got to Gren, even his companion's feuding was paltry in comparison. They were arguing again of course. In many ways it was false to say "again" as they seemed to argue without pause. Anything from the direction of the wind to the right size for firewood set them off into a wild frenzy, it was ridiculous really, three of mistrals best scouts sitting in a woods, two of them arguing loudly while the other slowly went insane.
They had been out here weeks. Trying to find some hunters that beacon was worried about, but so far they hadn't even seen any Grimm, let alone humans. Maybe that was why his companions where so on edge, there were always Grimm, there where Grimm under rocks, Grimm in the trees, Grimm in the rivers, the number one rule that all scouts stood by was that you should always expect Grimm, they were sneaky fuckers at the best of times, and without a sighting for almost a month? Any scout worth his boots would find that strange.
And the frayed nerves where made none the better by their mission, to search in terrible conditions for a team of hunters with a habit for leaving no trace. Of course a team made up of a duo who can fly and teleport respectively, an assassin, and an exile, were not the kind of people who would make themselves easy to find, especially so close to the wild kingdoms border.
Those dirty tribes with their stupid names had been the death of many a curious traveller or hot-headed hunter. They had got even worse since that ivory bastard united them all, proclaiming a new kingdom and wiping out all military outposts any further North than the edge of the forests. They had passed one such ruin a week past. Nothing but rubble and bones.
Despite this gren didn't think the tribesmen had been the cause of this, they had at least the decency to warn the outposts beforehand, not that anyone listened to a bunch of hairy men in furs, and had not shown aggression to hunters beforehand.
The other options scared him though, when hunters like this go missing it's not because they fell asleep on watch and a Beowulf had them for supper. They were the sort that punched nevermores out the sky and grappled with ursas, simply because they could. If the tribes hadn't got them then there was something else in this wood, something able to bring down hunters like a child knocks down a toy soldier. he was sure that if they had had the chance one of them would have escaped, teleported back to the outpost or flown back to beacon, add the two trained-from-birth killers, and the whole thing just seemed…off.
And if it wasn't the work of Grimm or tribesmen, then there was only one real threat to civilization.
The wind whispered as the dark blade slid across his neck, his companions too engaged in their dispute to see the shadows emerge from the trees. Dark creatures with darker armour that glittered in the moonlight and mask as white as pure snow. Gren looked into the things empty sockets as it raised the long blade above its head, though the world darkened before the blow struck.
As his team fell, the third scout charged. Parrying a blow with his sword and dashing forward, using his aura as a shield as he attempted to escape the ring of silent figures, one stepped into his path and he slashed at it two handed. The pommel of its blade shattering his right as it dodged his swing. he dropped the blade with a pained cry, clutching his ruined hand. The shadow sheathed its blade, instead taking his neck in one hand and easily lifting him above its head. Its dark eyes burning with delight as it watched the scout struggle.
As the life was choked from the scout deep in the Northern forests, the door to a small cottage on the outskirts of vale burst open as two sisters rushed in. "We've got a mission!" Ruby cried.