"Lenny!?" The leader shouted. "Hurry up!"

The man named Lenny did not move. His body was trembling and his breath was shaky; he could not take his eyes off the stone.

"Hurry up, Lenny," one of the bandits shouted. "Do as you're told!"

"As I'm...told...?"

Lenny's hand gripped the gemstone tightly and sweat began to gather on his brow.

"Kill him, Lenny!"

"Do as you're told, Lenny," whispered the cloaked figured, with a soothing tone.

"I..."

"Come on, Lenny! Hurry up, will ya?"

"Idiot!"

"Hurry up!"

"I-I can't..."

The cloaked figure sighed sympathetically.

"Its alright, Lenny. Do it."

Tears began to well at the corner of Lenny's eyes.

"P-please..." he whimpered, "Don't make me do it..."

"LENNY!"

The leader of their group pushed passed the others and stormed towards him.

"Its alright, Lenny," the cloak figure whispered softly, "Everything is alright."

"Lenny you fucking dolt!"

The leader reached out towards Lenny and grabbed his shoulder.

"If you don't kill that son of a—"

A red mist sprayed into the air as Lenny's stiletto blade slid into the side of the leader's skull.

"AGH!!!"

The man shoved Lenny away and gripped at his head, thrashing himself about as a trail of blood poured down the handle of the dagger.

"LENNY!?"

"What the fuck did you do!?"

Two men ran forward and caught their leader as he fell.

"Boss!? BOSS!"

"Hang in there!"

A few gurgling breaths left his throat and within a few moments he was still.

Lenny staggered back and his knees began to shake.

"I-I didn't...it wasn't me!"

But his pleas fell on deaf ears.

The three remaining men descended on Lenny; their murderous eyes focused on him as they drew their weapons without hesitation. Lenny whimpered and froze. Then, he stumbled forward and tried to plead with them.

"It wasn't me, I swear! You know me! I wouldn't!" Lenny felt a growing weight in his palm— it made his muscles ache and burn. "It was him!" Lenny shouted. He then turned and pointed desperately at the cloaked man. "He did it! He made me do it!"

The cloak figure tilted his head to the side sympathetically.

"They don't seem to think so."

Lenny felt a rush of movement.

"Please! You have to believe—!"

Lenny's breath left him as two swords ran through his gut and out his back. The men grabbed Lenny's body and shoved him away, sliding their swords out from his torso. One of the men then began to stomp on Lenny's face with his boot.

"Stupid— son of a— bitch! You KILLED him!"

"Easy, now," another man said. "We still got a job to do."

The man withdrew his boot from Lenny's broken face and bent down to grab the gem from his lifeless hand. However, try as he might, he could not wrestle the stone from Lenny's grip.

"Ngh! Let go already!"

The man pulled and pulled, even trying to break Lenny's fingers, but they would not budge.

He threw Lenny's arm against the ground and turned to the cloaked figure.

"What trickery is this!?"

The cloaked figure smiled; his eyes gleamed mischievously beneath the starlight.

"Trickery?" the man said as he shook his head. "There are no tricks here."

A slow wave of darkness came over the forest— clouds drifting on sinister wind to smother the moon.

The three men brandished their weapons and began to close in around the mysterious traveler.

"Behind you!"

Mister Weiss cried out with a voice of pure fear. The men obeyed, following his gaze toward Lenny's body.

The gemstone was still clutched within his carnal grip— and it was glowing.

"What is this!?" the men shouted. "What is this devilry!?"

"Throw it away! Now!"

One of the bandits lunged at Lenny's hand and tried desperately to wrestle it from him. But as he touched its polished surface, he felt a searing pain course through him.

"AGHH!"

He tried and he tried, but despite the pain he could not let go of the gem. A dark red mottling appeared across his hands and crept up his arms. With every inch it moved, the pain grew more intense, as if his flesh was burning.

The others watched in horror as he convulsed and cried out in anguish. He then began to smash his head against his hands over and over again in desperation. Blood was running down his head and made it impossible to see. With no option left, he began to bite and tear at his own forearms before his body gave one final convulsion and he fell into the dirt.

The two men stared breathless; their eyes drawn to the gemstone which glowed now even brighter than before.

They shared a look of primal terror. Then, they threw down their weapons and turned to run—

Within the blink of an eye the cloaked figure was standing before them. Two daggers were poised at each of their necks.

"How—!"

In one smooth motion, the figure slit their throats down to the bone. They each let out a miserable guttural squelching and their bodies crumpled to the ground. Then, the cloaked figure bent down and used the men's clothing to wipe the blood from his daggers before sheathing them again at his hip.

The traveler then sighed to himself as he made his way over to Lenny's corpse and bent down to pick up the necklace.

An audible gasp caught the traveler by surprise.

That gasp belonged to Mister Weiss.

"Oh? You're still here?"

Mister Weiss had not moved an inch.

The traveler looked from Weiss to the stone and raised an eyebrow. Then he nodded his head and placed the gemstone back around his neck. The grass crunched beneath his feet as the traveler moved toward the caravan, all the while Mister Weiss' breath grew more and more haggard.

"N-no! Stay away!"

Weiss staggered back and fell against the driver's step; but the man continued his slow and sinister approach. The frightened driver clawed behind him for his dagger, refusing to take his eyes off this unnatural man.

"Don't come any closer!" Weiss cried out, holding the weapon out in front of him. "S-Stop! NOW!"

The man was nearly upon him—

Weiss shut his eyes and lunged forward, pressing the dagger against the traveler's body. He felt minimal resistance as it slipped through clothing and into his abdomen.

The traveler looked down at the dagger in his gut, but his expression did not change.

Meanwhile, Weiss was panting heavily. He then let go of the dagger and backed away from the man.

"I—" Weiss stammered.

"That was unnecessary."

Weiss couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The man stood there, talking and breathing normally, despite the eight-inch dagger embedded in his gut.

"I-I stabbed you. You should be dead!"

Weiss went pale as he heard a voice speak from behind him.

"Did you now?"

A coldness spread through Weiss' back and he felt limp. He hobbled forward on faltering legs, then collapsed into the grass— a dagger stuck out of his lower back. The traveler walked over to Weiss and looked down at him.

"You were not mistaken, Mister Weiss," he said with a sinister grin. "These roads are quite dangerous."

The man then lifted his boot and stomped down on the handle of the dagger.

"AHGH!"

Weiss writhed and cried out in agony as the man continued to press and twist the knife with the tip of his boot. Then he bent down and rolled Weiss onto his back. Weiss opened his mouth to scream as the weight of his own body drove the knife deeper, but the traveler covered his mouth.

"You know, you shouldn't be so loud," he whispered, "You'll scare the horses."

He struggled and squirmed, but with each movement more and more blood left his body. Weiss' eyes remained wide and full of terror until the last. Once he was dead, the traveler lifted his hand away from Weiss' mouth and wiped it on the grass with a look of disgust. He then flipped Weiss' body over once more, pulled the dagger out from his back and cleaned it off.

"See what you've made me do..."

The traveler stepped leisurely between the corpses as he headed back to the caravan and hopped into the driver's seat. He then tugged gently on the reins and urged the horse further along the road...

After some time, two tall watchtowers rose into view. Their forms were illuminated by several burning torches that ran the length of a fortified stone wall. A large wooden gate stood slightly ajar and was guarded by two sentry men. These two men approached each other to speak as they saw the cart appear from the darkness of the road. Then, one of them split off and approached.

"Halt, Master Carter. State your business."

The man in the cart sat with his hood drawn over his head.

"Just looking for a place to rest, sir."

"From where have you come?"

"Malendar's Edge."

The guard looked at the caravan and then back to the driver.

"No passengers?"

The driver shook his head.

"Folks aren't keen to travel these days. Too many bandits on the road."

The guard sighed heavily.

"Aye. That there are."

He then turned around and waved to the men in the tower. With a heavy sound, the doors to the gate began to open.

"There is no need to worry," the guard said with a smile. "Thanks to Sir Perry, we are very safe here."

The driver smiled in return.

"I am glad to hear it. Sir Perry must be quite capable to instill such confidence."

"Absolutely," the man said proudly.

Once the gate was fully opened, the two guards stepped aside to let the driver and his carriage through.

"If you're looking for a hot meal, the Lonely Song is just down the main road."

"Thank you," the driver said with a nod of his head.

The guard opened his mouth to speak, but paused as his eye caught glimpse of an ornate red gemstone that hung around the man's neck.

"Something wrong?" the driver asked.

"No, nothing," the guard said with a shake of his head. He then held out his arm to beckon the driver forward.

"Welcome to Viemen!"