Vulnerable

Ostiarium forests

The room was damp but suddenly Islana became aware of the labourer's sweat and the alcohol in his breath.
He crouched next to her and ran his hammer across her bruised face.
"Not so tough now are ya? Without ya bow? He sneered at her enjoying the fear he appeared to be causing.
"Such a shame he's going to gut you." His breath now nearer her face. "So much fun we could have with a little thing like ya." He said grabbing her hair.

"I think I'm gonna enjoy hear you scream..." He said pushing to Islana the floor laughing. The young huntress closed her eyes. She heard the man fumbling with something and heard a thumping sound, as something wet and warm cascaded down her face. She opened her eyes and saw the young man's head twisted at an impossible angle. His neck sliced clean, his blood gushing into her.

A shadow stood behind is still kneeling and spamming body, holding his hair in one hand an a hand-axe in the other. As she blinked blood from her eyes, Islana saw the woading tattoos in his shadow's muscular naked frame. Saw the boar's head that appeared to blink at her. The shadowy figure jerked the dead body aside as if it was a rag doll.

"No men or women shall touch the sacrifice once chosen except for the Preacher of the Creed..." He told the corpse at his feet.

"It is time, from the dry dust,
out of these chains, from Winter's shadow, she presents herself with the last moonrise..." The Preacher chanted and painted the bow familiar symbol of the Creed unto Islana's forehead in blood.