It was with no small amount of trepidation did Umbra linger towards the rear of the crowd. To say the moment was unexpected would have been an utter disservice to the clear and well laid plans that had gone into the night’s festivities, that had clearly been prepared months in advance for this singular night.

Not that Umbra actually knew what the festival was all about, having drifted into town on yet another escort duty for a young industrious merchant that may or may not have said something about the festival that they were obviously attending.

Shouts and cheers rang into the night as men, women and children all danced hand in hand around a large bonfire. Tents had been erected upon an open plain stocked to the brim with drink and food that were there for all to eat and be merry.

Though Umbra felt like that they were intruding, such merriment and heart-warming cheer was not for a person that clad themselves in cold iron. And yet, the same reason that Umbra did not step forward to join in was also the very same reason why they had not yet turned around and left for the local inn.

Such times were rare as trouble often was brewed just over the horizon, even now Umbra could not hold but scan the treeline in the distance for some ill placed beast or a group of vagabonds eager to take advantage of such easy-going people.

There were no guards as far as Umbra could tell, and that worried the mercenary immensely. And so, for that very reason, they had chosen to stay just near enough to intervene should something go wrong.

‘This is just asking for trouble. ’ The mercenary continuously thought to themselves as they rested a hand upon the hilt of their sword. Ideally, Umbra mused the best way to keep these people safe at such a late hour would be to cut the festivities short and send them home.

Realistically, Umbra mentally countered, was that such actions would never hold weight. An observant eye peered more closely at the decorations that scattered around. Symbols and pictures all told a story, bows and arrows, swords and shields delicately sewn onto white sheets as well as a plentiful bounty of food allowed Umbra to come to a conclusion that the festival was a celebration of a hunt.

Whispers and chatter of an earlier hunt lent credit to Umbra’s observations as they concluded that it was a festival of the hunt.

“And what do we have here, tall big and grumpy.” An unknown voice drew Umbra’s gaze from the distant trees to a young girl looking both sloshed and indignant “An where’s yer drink?” She drawled with an accusing squinted glare.

“I don’t drink.” Umbra answered simply and watched the girl nod her head as though she hadn’t thought of that.

“Right, right.” She said sagely to herself, before squinting at the mercenary’s visor once more “An why aren’t you dancing?”

It was times like this that Umbra was sorely reminded that they were not a people person, and that if they were going to keep a silent vigil over the festivities that they were better doing so at a greater distance.

“An where are you off ta?” The drunken girl asked falling into a clumsy pace beside the mercenary.

‘Just as soon as I escape the hunter.’ Umbra thought mirthfully.