Stonehill, a cliff-side coastal city that's hired Graves' company many, many times for their monster hunting capabilities and Graves took immense pride in it. He'd been hunting since he was a teenager, and a man well into his middle age by now he's confident he's one of the best.

So when Stonehill hired him and his men once again to hunt down a harpy that had been terrorizing mainly fishermen or men-at-arms, Graves thought little of it. It's just another harpy, nothing to scoff at if you've got the right mixtures to drink to avoid their call.

"Watch yer' fuckin' head!" Graves shouts from where he dives behind a boulder along the cliff's edge, the harpy's screeching clear as it swoops at him and his men. This wasn't what he signed up for—when Graves' gets bounties for harpies they've always been females—but this is a male, royally fucking over his plans. Sure they didn't have the musical voice like females, but they're stronger. Faster. A harder target to take down.

Graves' men scramble trying to find a proper rock to hide behind before the harpy can throw them from the cliff, a couple being unlucky enough to not make it in time. Graves' curses and gets his crossbow out, peeking out over his boulder and aiming for the harpy hovering over where what remains of his men are tucked away. "C'mon you big bastard..."