Legionnaire Titeramus Bursa stood unmoved in the middle of silent crowd. His half-bald head still rested firmly atop his arms, connected with his body by a muscular neck.

That should not be.

Along those lines run the thoughts of the assassin whose blade chipped and dented rested pressed against Bursa’s throat.

“Attacking an imperial soldier is a capital offence punishable by death.”

The soldier declared calmly, his black eyes resting upon the terrified face of the assailant. In a swift motion his palm met with the masked face, crushing it as if hit by a stone slab. There was no resistance. Hardly ever was. Bursa often matched his fist against a stone and always won, churning large rocks to dust. What a mere human could do to him while magical beast hardly grazed him.

He pitted the man, now corpse lying in the gutter, that took a contract upon his head. No price was worth the rage of his fists.  He stepped over the body and moved on. He had orders and following orders was his purpose.

He had no wife, only his legionary cloak hugged him in the cold nights.  No, he would not put the one he loved into such peril. Alone he feared nothing. To bond with other? No. They would torture and kill her to kill torture his soul.

Bursa almost smiled.

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A soul he did not have.

His mother, a temple whore belonged to whoever paid more to appease the goddess, the spirits or every damn in between. Her womb have seen more schlongs then the priests saw pilgrims in temple. One of those being his father. Maybe even the Head priest himself?

Pregnant, they sacrificed her to appease the spirits. Slit her throat and cast away into the sand of the dunes by the temple. Had her sacrifice been ignored, he would not walk this earth.

It was his mother dying wish, the queen said. She offered him to the ruler of the earth, all the mana he would ever had, in exchange for his life. And the Queen of Dunes accepted. She took over his mother body, gave birth to him in her stead and nurtured him until he no longer required it.

After that, the deal was done. The spirit took over all the mana his body would produce while in exchange Bursa got a body with fists that could crush diamonds, bones that could not be broken and skin that hardly anything would scratch. A cursed body.

Cursed but useful. Everything could be useful in the hands of Garbannel von Melleroy. Even such a tool as he and right this moment his master required his services.

Emerging from the crisscrossing alleys he headed towards the bland government building at the edge of the city.  He passed the guards, entered the lobby and walked over to the bored clerk.

“Name?”

The man in a green tunic asked him, giving him a careful, bored look.

“Bursa”

The clerk flipped through his book of records until he found something, read it and stood up visibly annoyed.

“Wait here.”

He said disappearing in the back room. It was always the back room.

“Your orders and fifty thousand gold rua for travel expense. Count and sign here.”

The man returned with a sealed envelope and large pouch. Bursa poke through the pouch then scribbled his name where the clerk pointed with his bony finger.

The orders read:

We lost contact with our agent in the town of Everooth. Current situation is unknown. For the last five months no traffic registered to or from the city. Investigate the matter silently. If possible, ascertain the fate of Erlene von Valler. Effective immediately.