Many days I spent wandering through the land. Searching from town to town for that which will guide my life. Sleeping amongst the locals, drinking, and doing odd jobs for coin to feed myself and keep me clothed. But as I headed along the road I saw a cloaked figure walking unsteadily in the distance.

I called to him but received no reply, just the silence as the forest approached and the road became narrow and trees began to push in close. I began closing the gap between the traveler and called again wondering if perhaps he was hard of hearing. This time I saw his cloak shift as he looked behind to watch my approach but continued on his path.

As the light of his torch gave an outline against the blackness of the night I saw the swords strapped to his back shimmer. How many swords must one man need?

Almost within arms reach I slowed my approach. "Hello good sir? May I accompany you on this trail? It is rather dark and there is safety in numbers."

The man stopped. Before I knew what had happened he spun around with two swords in his hands, the torch falling in what seemed slow motion towards the forest floor. Lunging towards me I saw the edge of the pristine blades go for my head. Dropping and curling up into a ball in the only defense I could attempt at the unprovoked attack I cried in terror. Before I knew it the man was standing above me. But two corpses laid at my feet.

"Got anything to drink?"

I just sat shaking as my nerves sought to regain control of my body. "W..... wh. what?"

"Drink."

"Y... Yes..." I handed over my flask. As the man who would be my protector grabbed the liquor from my hand I saw the horror of my situation. Two great beasts lay almost completely cut in half. What they were I could only guess at, but what I would have been was a meal, and a dead man.

The man hurriedly downed the flask and tossed it aside to stumble towards the fallen torch before the moist floor extinguished the flame.

I began to rise and recover my flask. But the man turned.

"Don't touch it."

"What, my flask?" I asked and began shivering from something worse than the coming cold of winter. I could see his face now in the torchlight. What must this poor man have endured. The open sores covering his face glistening in the fire as they weeped. His eye half closed with a scar crossing his cheek to brow, his lip twisted in a grin from what could only have been another close call with death. An ear completely missing. And as I peered at his hand around the torch I counted only 3 fingers.

"Don't be touching nothing from me." I gulped at the thought of being covered in such horrific wounds. " Don't want this.... gift." The man laughed harshly and began coughing. But turned and began walking the path.

I gathered myself and followed behind careful to step wide around the discarded flask. "Is it.... that contagious?"

"Only if you touch it."

"Do you..... Can I follow behind. I don't wish to walk this path alone. It seems rather dangerous."

"So long you don't touch me you can do whatever you wish. But I don't be stopping until I get to where I'm going."

"Where is it you are going sir?"

"To meet my end."

That was the last of our conversation that night but as he turned to look at me as I slowly caught up and kept myself at arms length I swear I saw a tear flow out of the half closed eye. Though it may have just been the open sores leaking.