Quiet and calm. His head pounding but his rough hands steady. Quiet and calm is where the void brings me. Throw yourself into the void, embrace the emptiness he told me. “Practice and patience and pain has brought you to where you are now men! Through blood and fire you shall destroy any who stand in our way!” The voice of the False Dragon reverberated in his head making him nearly lose control, nearly letting go of the precious void. The only times he felt right were when he was there, in that moment, in that emptiness.
Mentally stepping out of the void and opening his eyes, or rather the only one he could, a strap of dirty leather covered the gaping hole of what was once his other eye. The gruff man looked around the Tanchico landscape and onwards towards the city of Tanchico itself only an hours ride ahead. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He said to himself. Turning and pointing at nothing he raised his voice, “But we’ve been over this! For the salad and the goats and the girls! We must!” A spark of flame shot into the ground from the disgruntled mans right hand. “What salad!? What goats!?! Blast it man! You’re lossing your mind and your taking me with you!” The lone traveler visibly angry and lossing his calm shut his eye once more.
Quiet and Calm. The void returned. Quiet and calm and you’ll get the job done. Then and only then can you return to her. Return to Emeryse with more money than she could ever wish for! No more soldiering, no more odd jobs, no more hungry nights, no more voices... This one man’s life in exchange for freedom and peace.
Opening his eye with renewed dedication, the hooded man climbed onto his horse and nudged the animal towards the main road. Intent on the upcoming city gates and the steadfast soldiers watching the daily commings and goings of peasants, merchants and travelers, the man smiled to himself as he was all too used to the habits and training of the common soldier. Passing through the gates unnoticed, the focused man reached into his pocket and took out a sheet of paper. Reading it one more time, he clenched his fist crumpling the page and let it drop to the ground as he headed straight for the local militia’s headquarters. Only one thought on his mind. Death.
The used paper crumpled and worn was lifted off the ground by a gust of wind and thrown against a wooden barrel spreadout for all to see.
Wanted : The head of the Darkfriend running the Civil Watch.
Reward : 1000 gold crowns.
A simple sketching of a man’s face covers the rest of the page.
The bottom of the page has been torn clean off and you can only assume that is where the name of the reward provider was...