The following morning, Oscar awoke with a start, light shining through the leaves and branches of the tree. There was someone in his camp. He'd let down his guard for too long, slept too heavily. Now there was someone in his camp and he was vulnerable. He could hear them, sense them moving around below him. The bed he'd crafted for himself was not easy to get out of silently, he would have to be ready for a fight. His sword was at the base of the tree with his satchel. all he had were his katars, blades that wrapped around his fingers and extended from his knuckles. He silently readied them, moving as little as possible so as not to rustle the branches on the tree. He took a deep breath, then rapidly leaped from his bed and landing on the ground below. He spotted the invader immediately, standing by the trunk of the tree. It wasn't the necromancer. It was a man, just over six and a half feet tall. He was lightly armored, wearing a leather tunic and trousers. He had weapons too, a longbow strung across his back, and two scimitars, long curved blades, resting at his sides. The man heard Oscar's feet hit the ground and turned toward him. Oscar looked at the man's face. He seemed human, but only partially; he appeared to be half orc. He had light gray skin, and his face had very strong features, with a set of tusk-like teeth showing just over his upper lip. This was the figure from the tavern. It had to be. He was the right size, the deformities seemed to match what Oscar thought he'd seen in the dark. Oscar raised his daggers to attack. The man saw this, seemed startled by it, but unsheathed one of his scimitars in response. He tried to say something but was interrupted by Oscar lunging at him, daggers swinging and cutting through the air. The half-orc raised his sword in response, blocking the blows. He unsheathed his other sword and prepared to deflect another flurry.

Petunia backed away, calling out a noise of distress after watching his master battle this intruder.

"Wait," the half-orc exclaimed as Oscar pushed forward again, blades arcing around, hurtling towards him. He once again expertly intersected the daggers' flight paths with his own blades. The clang of steel against steel rang out in the open woods as the blades slid along one another.

"Stop, I just came to talk!" The half-orc said. Oscar heard the man, but disregarded his words. He was angry. He was angry at himself for letting down his guard, he was angry at the necromancer for killing his father and all those close to him, he was angry at this half-orc for invading his camp. He wasn't going to stop until he had calmed himself.

Oscar let out a yell and swung over and over again, advancing with every blow, but no swing could hit its mark. The half-orc sidestepped and dodged and deflected, making Oscar's rage induced assault entirely worthless. The invader never attacked Oscar, simply letting his blows be diverted harmlessly away.

"Listen to me!" he called out. Oscar still did not respond, and the half-orc waited for an opening, deflected a swing that sent Oscar stumbling slightly, then connected his fist to Oscar's face. Hard.

Oscar went sailing backward, landing on his back while his daggers clattered to the ground beside him. Petunia had made her way to the edge of the clearing, braying loudly in distress.

The half-orc sheathed his weapons and kicked Oscar's daggers away from him. Oscar lay on the ground, disoriented from the punch. "Why are you here?" he finally asked.

"My name is Gell," he began.

"That isn't what I asked," said Oscar, rubbing his forehead.

"I tracked you this morning. I saw you come into the tavern last night, you came in looking like you'd seen a spirit, you were shaking, panting. You sat at the bar for nearly an hour without ordering a thing, then left. You walked into the woods and slept in a tree. That doesn't add up to normal behavior. Something is wrong, I'm just trying to figure out what. Maybe I can help." The Half-Orc's voice was calm and cool.

"You can't. There's nothing you can do for me right now. It's something I need to do myself. I don't need your help," Oscar replied. He knew that having the skill of a warrior such as this one would help immensely in his fight, but he was too stubborn. He'd made up his mind to do this alone.

"Fair enough. I will respect your wishes. Don't worry, I wasn't going through your things, I was only waiting for you to wake up. Perhaps I'll see you in the future."

"I doubt it. Just leave me alone and stay out of my way. I'd prefer it if you left now, Gell," Oscar said with hostility. He began to pick himself up from the ground.

Gell nodded, backing away from Oscar's camp and silently turning around, then walking back toward the city. Oscar tried to clear his head. He felt badly for treating the half-orc with such disrespect and hostility when he had been shown none. It was too late to fix things now. Oscar was feeling too many emotions, being forced to deal with too much in the last day. Oscar took down his bedroll and packed his things, readying himself for travel.

Petunia returned to the base of the tree to rest. Braying softly. Oscar began to load her back up.

Oscar took a final look at his camp, making sure that he hadn't forgotten anything, then turned his back on it and walked on toward the city.