With a pained sigh that cried of weariness and fatigue a figure emerged from a copse of trees that had been his home for the night. He was garbed in a muddy-white woolen tunic and dark leather breeches that were both torn where thorns had barred his way and a great rent marked the tunic itself almost completely from shoulder to waist.

A tale in it's own right that had been, stalked for three days by a cat-like predator, only to have been cornered by it before a great moss-covered oak tree in a clearing two weeks distant. He remembered staring into it's eyes, thinking that that had indeed been his last moment, only to have that surety torn from him as the creature was attacked by another of it's kind.

He hadn't stayed long enough to figure out whether the first had strayed into a rival's territory or whether both were simply fighting over the spoils. Summoning all he had left and biting his lip against the stitch at his heart he had leapt away and dropped into a sprint that bore him quite a distance from the raucous noise of feral snarling and the pitiful cries of the defeated, before he fell, weight against a thorny bush, into a deep slumber.

But that had been then, and before? It just seemed that his luck had never been that of a man who plays at dice for his living. He had left the great city of Tor Tethi, the wealthy son of a merchant, himself beginning his ventures in the outside world.

Against his father's best wishes he had placed his inheritance into one great cargo of goods and luxuries, hoping to rake in the profits at Syrosia's capital Ma'Kan, and yet the winds were ill and he should have read the runes more closely.

Two days into the trip a great storm had grown as if from nowhere, and he had lost three of his beasts of burden, and at least a thousand gold in stock, spoilt or simply lost.

Two days later, his chief mercenary had complained of agonising pains at his stomach, and despite all that the healer of the next village had tried, promtly died close to midnight the following day, feverish.

But still he bade those he hired to go onwards, promising them cuts of the profit for themselves.

Then the chest that had carried his remaining wealth went missing. The very money that he had promised his guards was gone not a week later. So he could not have blamed them when they took their pay out of his cargo and they too promtly diappeared.

And finally, not three days from Ma'Kan he had been robbed. Bandits had taken almost everything from him, including his boots, his jewelry, and the oxen.

If they had known whom he was he would still be with them, a fine bauble to be ransomed back to his father.

But still here he was.

He rubbed his chin, his nose wrinkling as his disgust in his own dirty, stubbled visage made itself clear. To have ended like this....

He sighed again and stretched, then attempted to remove twigs and leaves and other 'things' from his now lank and greasy blonde hair. Then made an attempt at brushing down his filth-ridden clothes, before looking back towards the road and smiling at the stupidity of it.

"If nothing else this proves the old proverb my friend, never place all your eggs in one basket!", he laughed.. for what else was there to do but laugh?

Then he sighed again. "We shall just have to start again.. from the beginning.. that's where all good stories begin.. am I right?"...

He shook his head. "We really have to stop talking to ourselves... most would think us mad by now eh?".. he laughed again and started on oncemore, barefoot, down the well word dirt-track, whistling quite merrily... when he spotted something.

Amidst the trees up ahead there was a grey drifting shape. Bizarre.... He screwed up his silver-grey eyes and realized, with a broad cheshire-cat grin what it was.

"Smoke! By the Lord himself! It's smoke m'boy! And where there is smoke there is surely a fire! And hopefully food and drink and a bed! Oh joy a bed!", despite the blisters on his feet he broke into a run and was soon bearing down fast on the great wooden door of the main entrance and there he jumped and shouted "Hallo!!!!! Food and drink! That I desire to quench the fire of my hunger! Hallo!!!! Is there anybody here?!", he then banged his fist loudly upon the door and repeated his greeting over and over hoping against hope that he would soon get a response.