Prehistoric, old plot -
 

Now, Graun had seen a great deal in his life that others never could hope to and many of life's most challenging parts now hardly could summon a flicker in his eyes, but here he witnessed something truly interesting. Not one young foolish man alone, but two, known to be of the same mother, both throwing themselves to the fire. It conjured tales of old in his mind, those stories less spoken. It was known that sisters had destinies to to weave together, and brothers had destinies to compete, but it was truly strange for such things to be manifested like this. Already he had seen Tooth-of-Stone trail shortly behind Far Spear. Whether that was intentional or not, it did not matter as the tone had been set. All of this, and Graun simply turned away his gaze to the crowd at large again.

Far Spear knew how audacious his standing was. He was neither blind nor deaf to the grumbling and broiling of mood that had been inside brother ever since, and perhaps before, Bear Paw's fragility became embarrassingly clear. All of that time, Far Spear had rarely offered so much as an opinion on the weather, let alone expressed any wish for power. Intention to stand was not something often discussed, but it had become understood without words between them that Tooth-of-Stone had strong desires for the clan, the kind that exceeded the ambitions of the small-minded such as Bear Paw or those that would let themselves be weakened by him. Far Spear had been almost certain that his brother would stake his claim to leadership, so why should he undermine both him and their ancestors like this? It was a question he had grappled with and one that had no agreeable solution.

He looked steadily to Graun and respectfully removed the skins of Spring from his upper half, rolling them into a bundle as he set them carefully down in front as the others had. Ignoring small twinges of amused smiles from the greatest was easy, even the chill wind on his bare body was not so awful, but the thought of facing his brother made his skin prickle. It was a necessary pain, and it wouldn't matter in the end if he had explained himself to Tooth-of-Stone beforehand or not, not when the outcome would be the same, whether he now succeeded or failed.

He fixed his short cloak of white fox furs then let his hands clasp behind his back. Much like Tooth-of-Stone and other men of the clan, Far Spear had earned his tattoos, the cherished symbols that drew up a man's vitality and protected him from the weaker but numerous spirits that made a home in the blood of lesser clans. Then there were the rippled white lines about his right shoulder that were a testimony to his ability to kill the enemy in combat. Often Graun had complained that men of a young age had once had such ripples colouring the skin almost to their elbow for the number of enemies slain. While Far Spear quietly dared to doubt the nostalgic memory of Graun, it was true that what he had earned was historically unimpressive. Could he really have the makings of a leader at all? 

Graun saw that no more had risen, and so he continued. 
"And here stand eight of the Blue Claw Men that would carry our burden. Who amongst us could choose the better of them? It is not a choice that is ours to make. As many know, such things belong to spirits."
Breathing in the cool air that carried the scent of the evergreen needles and the sweetness of spring ice flowers steadied Far Spear. He watched the movements of Graun's lips, trying to discern any personal feeling behind the words.
"Both the old and the young, the wise and the brave, but strength has many guises." He remarked, bluntly, but there was no disagreement from the clan. "Blue Claw Men, we are a people of action; so our ancestors have shaped us to be. Therefore, do what honours our ancestors, and show your worth." They all hoped differently at this moment. In the winters gone by, far before the time of Bear Paw, demands to find and kill the largest 
Pwella had been made. Other times, they simply had fought one another, sometimes even to the point of death when the will for power had been so strong and it was obvious that the present Greatest warriors would have no contest if this was the challenge.
Graun addressed the men standing. "Travel quickly and let each of you bring back a White Hawk, Snake Skin or Badger person, whether they are alive or not matters little. The spirits have been calling for blood, they have been ravenous and they do not care how it comes. They do not wish to, but they could even consume us in their hunger. A great leader, will act to remedy this, I have seen it." He relished the chance to call this challenge. It had been so long since their old traditions had been given the consideration they deserved, Bear Paw deeming them unnecessary and dangerous. If only they had known about him, as the most dangerous thing of all was to defy the ancestors.
Unease made quiet waves through the people. It was what they wanted, but this no mere game of animal chasing and each would be vying to bring back the greatest enemy they could find, if they could even manage at all.
 

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Medieval fantasy, the aurany -

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Coincidentally, it was not long until the researcher made himself known. Tavar accepted the handshake firmly, though his face seemed to come to a pause briefly as the man cursed. He was certainly a lively one, and forthright.

"We are pleased to meet you Lyre, yes...you will not need to be doing that." He gestured to himself and then the others of his group. "Tavar, Malle, Dorik, Feyn." Looking the man over, Tavar was quite relieved to see their charge was not a sickly little mongrel of a man. In fact, he appeared able-bodied, even if his manner leaned towards the uncouth.
"Eisne was quite reluctant about such an unusual, and frankly dangerous, assignment...but as soon as I had caught wind of it, I knew I was very keen to meet you." Nodding once in affirmation he continued. "As servants of the aurany, it is in our best interests to do everything we can to assist you. The barrens may be unforgiving, but then, we are not complete strangers to its dreadfulness." There was a small smile on his lips at that moment as he rolled a shoulder, glancing to the glaive secured to his back. "We have the tools to deal with the wretched beings while you do what you do best, what is most important."

It may have been early morning, so the usual market crowd had not yet gathered, but their small assembly had garnered the interest of the few sellers milling about as they stacked their wares. It was a rare sight to see the aure with their weapons and even rarer to have one outside of the order amongst them.
"And on that point, Eisne has also said that whatever you need of us, within the bounds of our code of course, we are to do for you. So please do make full use of us, it is what the aure would want." While Tavar's words were very formal and collected, he was nevertheless entirely genuine and his eyes sparked with eagerness, though the same could not be said of the three other men with him. They seemed mostly solemn, having the politeness to hide their ambivalence. Yet, Tavar knew they would not run at the first sight of a barrens creature - like all others of the aure, they were companions for life and he knew them well, if not by choice.
 

"But, there is still a lot of to discuss. Lyre, where on the border did you intend to leave the aurany? I expect you want to be on the move?" Being at the centre of the protected land meant they still had a good stretch of travel before they departed the safety of the aurany, but the exact place could make all the difference. It was quite well known that different types of beasts stalked at the border in the southern marshlands to those in the northern forests. "We have also come prepared with coin for the journey." Tavar snorted a little. "Though I don't know what good currency will do out there."

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Dystopian, old plot -

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"Not complaining, though..." He squinted a little as he looked about, and then back at her. "I'm surprised they gave you one of the best flats here." She didn't look particularly aspiring, as far as nines went, anyway. He shrugged anyway, not going to make a fuss over free lodging when he needed it. It would only be a short space of time before he'd be back where he belonged, setting the record straight and making that prick pay, a PR disaster was just what the doctor ordered. Just the thought of it gave Sarl a smug kind of satisfaction, watching Michal go down in flames, but for now, he had to make things happen.

Nodding, clearly sarcastically, he reeled in his arm of washing and wandered over to the machine, doing as mentioned as he listened.
"Sassy hardass." He repeated, raising his voice over the noise as he thumped on one side of the machine, and then again..."That won't get you anywhere. Looks like I should be taking your girlfriend first. To five. Then maybe she'll come back for you too." He joked, though his tone was deadpan as he then spat with some annoyance at the machine, hitting it again.
It then whirred into life and he felt the steady rumble on his palm. "God."

With that done he straightened up, rubbing away a knot in his neck as he stepped back out into the living room.

"You know, in five, you don't get to just..." Phrasing, how to phrase this? "Fuck wherever you want, whenever you want, either. There's rules. And it's not just fucking either. You can't go looking for every spare token in the dumpster, can't be scraping dishes without an almighty beaming smile, and you certainly can't go around making enemies just because they rub you the wrong way."

No, there were other ways to make far worse enemies.

"So when we go, you reel in the 'hardass' persona, and I'll bring out my gorgeous smile." And Sarl did right then, effortlessly as if on stage, yet he was dead serious.