Angus started walking back to the village, the shadows stretched endlessly stretched in his village. He was started to feel bottled up, like he was pushed into a corner the relaxing mood of the night before gone. His steps contained an uneven rhythm as he walked back to the village, a feeling of reliance, a feeling of a need for freedom, both crept up on him. Clenching his fist tightly until he could feel the wet of his hand he made his way back to the village, though this time he thought he would at least learn the name of it, he felt uncomfortable relying on a village of which he didn't know the name, therefore he caught some unlucky bloke, placed his hand on his shoulder and asked,"Where are we?" The man looked at him like he was either an idiot, or a lunatic.He shrugged and said,"We're Northwest of Midcrossing you dumbass" The man yanked off his arm, lifted his fist, then retracted it before walking. Angus felt happy that the man had self restraint, though it didn't dawn on him why the man acted like he did.

It was only a mile off that the man realized that he had blood where Angus had grabbed him, he then cursed in the twenty five different languages he knew, threw a fit then went to a river to wash off.

Angus was quite merry in his step, the blood dripping from his hands had never occurred to him, only when people started giving him strange looks did he notice that his palm had five minor wounds on it where he had his nails buried. A drop of sweat traced the back of his spine. It didn't take long for him to meet the door guard, the new door guard. "The name's Joules, either pay up or fuck off." The man had one eye, he also had some mystique around him, and coupled with his slim frame made him look like a young woman, it also didn't help that his voice was squeaky." Angus started laughing and simply mentioned that he had business with the blacksmith in town. The guard lifted an eyebrow, then took out a booklet, marked something then went back to not caring. Angus stepped through the gate and he immediately could tell that the usual cheery nature of the village was disturbed. Windows were closed, gates were barred, chicken coops were layered with wood and iron. He walked to a nearby woman and she slapped him before running off. Now he was angry, and confused. He went to find the usually chatty blacksmith and was more bewildered than he was when he entered.

The blacksmith was still her old self, she happily explained in great detail how a rabbit had been mauled so severely that it's intestines were dangling out when it was found. When asked how she could be so cheery, she said,"Because everyone's buying weapons and armor, a huge spike in business, though it is quite sad that the poor rabbit died." her sobering up made him breathe a sigh of relief. At least she hadn't gone completely off the rails. To say the village was overcast in gloom would be an understatement. It could be anything, a wolf, a werewolf, even a demigod if they were incredibly unlucky, and if it was the latter, the entire village was doomed. A demigod would rip entire populations apart, a small village wouldn't even be able to slow it down. He almost shat himself right then and there. But luckily he hadn't since he only had one spare pair of underwear. The blacksmith he knew could take care of herself, he wasn't bothered with the rest of them, he had learned the hard way that creating bonds of sympathy only created insurmountable anguish him when they broke. He definitely didn't want to experience that again. On that note he asked her how she created the weapons, maybe it would have some use somewhere, but it was mainly to lighten up the atmosphere. The blacksmith then explained the tinkering process, along with details of the different grains and structures inside the metal and how they interacted. He regretted asking, but he faked a look of interest. "So you're saying there are many tiny little cubes stacked on it?" He asked, "On some metals, some are tetrahedrons, some are triangular, though those are more rare. I'm currently forging a weapon made from steel and viron." With a sideways glance she explained, "Viron is a rather dense but strong element, but it's extremely stable in low percentages for reinforcing metals, so I add around four percent of it to the total mix and call it a day, the rest is either silicon, magnesium, copper and some very small amounts of gold. These things are good, if kept in their levels" She cheerily went on to explain different tempering processes for different metals. After he was done getting verbally assaulted he simply stood up, bid farewell to the strange blacksmith, and walked out the door, but before he left he heard a few words that made his hair stand on end.

"Pay attention here's a darkness brewing. Be aware not to destroy" When he turned his head around he saw the blacksmith leaning over the forge, a knife in hand with a palm bleeding. "Pain gives temporary reprieve" She spoke before smiling again. Shaking, he shambled out of the village. Staying there could likely assist him him, or it could lead to trauma, a death sentence, or worse. He either needed to forget their existence or get help. He chose the former.

That made him wonder what had happened to the gate guard. It also made him wonder what he had said, versus what he thought he had said. He dug his nails into his already wet palm and noticed that everything was slightly darker, he noted the small details of children weeping, burnt leaves. Then it all went back to normal. 'This is likely a local field, although I was practically chased out of my home, logic still abides there He made his way out of the village. Staying here would grant him nothing, and might even cause him to be deluded more. He found himself walking the same mountain track, with a spike of pain he noticed that the path had a winding element to it, he chose the most clear-cut way out. He decided that he would want someone to share the burden with, it was a simple thought, a thought he hadn't had before. It was getting strenuous to live on his own, to be so absent from humanity. He thought of going to one of the cities, but he ended up leaving for Midcrossing. Midcrossing was beyond the riverpassing Northwest from the village he had been in. Apparently with gossip wind had spread that there was an academy of sorts for children, he was properly educated, but he thought that visiting a tavern in the area would give him a better perspective of the area. He also wanted to see if that spell was on him still, or if there was a way to see through it without constantly accumulating escalated injuries. Seeing that his nails had grown again to the point that he looked like a beggar, he took out a small pair of nail clippers and began cutting his nails. It was a rather uneventful walk, with a craving for food he snatched a canteen from his bag and drank water, he wasn't in the mood for hunting or looking for some questionable berries.

With his track through the forest, which became a plain which eventually led to an inn on the side of the road, he headed to the inn. Walked into the inn he saw three waitresses, a rather dainty old innkeeper and four patrons each sitting alone at individual tables. The food looked quite average. A smile surfaced, he patted his pocket, noting he had absolutely no money and made his way to the front. "Hello, may I perhaps work for this fine establishment", he asked with a smile. The innkeeper looked at him slightly funny. "We don't have much business here, most I can offer you is nine coppers a week." Angus readily agreed and got up to stand behind the counter, the old innkeeper moving to the back to go bake bread.

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There Angus stood silently until a customer entered, they had slightly pointy ears with a rather average complexion, the clothes were average too. This immediately put Angus on full alarm. The best way to blend into somewhere is to wear clothing that would be in the middle of all perceptions of fashion, or work. There would simply be no interest in getting that person into any group. This means that the person in front of him was likely a criminal or a mercenary. The mercenary came to the front and said, "Four beers, a loaf of buttered bread sliced, and a glass of spring water" The mercenary put several coppers on the counter then seemed to not care. Angus took the money, wrote down the order then went to the back to pass on the message. The old innkeeper immediately handed him a tray with everything prepared, the sliced bread didn't have butter on it though so he got to that.

Angus took the water and beers to the mercenary,"Where's the fucking bread" He spoke clearly annoyed. "We're buttering it." He spoke honestly and soon the bread was delivered to the man. Looking closely there was a small protrusion on the man's left pants side. Likely a knife. The man then asked, "Has prince Helward come to this town yet? He's been taxing every tavern to the ground ever since his stalwart ceremony" A stalwart ceremony is a ceremony held by princes of the kingdom he was in for their entry to adulthood. He simply didn't know many of the politics or figures since most maps he saw or charts were of local regions. "Not that I'm aware of, but I'm new here." He spoke honestly and shrugged his shoulders. The mercenary gave an annoyed puff, finished his food and left. The rest of the night there were various travelers coming to talk with him, the worst was when there was a clique of young women making fun of his hair. That left him feeling down for the rest of the night, although it wasn't cut, it was quite neat and styled with a ponytail, he looked like a rugged adventurer. The culture of the capital seemed quite different. This is how he spent the following week, he would eat in the morning, take a bath in a nearby stream then head to work, he learned valuable skills in cooking, handling people and learning new customs.

On a fateful day he nodded to the innkeeper, he never learned the man's name then stepped outside. He had decided it was time to visit Midcrossing, afterwards he chartered his way to Rhinewood and Southtown, although it was rather north from where he was so he chuckled for a moment at the irony, then at his own nearsightedness. He hadn't really decided what he'd do there, at the moment he was somewhat happy, and somewhat depressed, he was happy since he found value in a new environment, he was depressed since he couldn't find someone to communicate with. He had spent a week in this inn and it left him feeling hollow. Sure the innkeeper was nice conversation, but he was a bit weird. He liked to randomly start dancing and would often leave raw meat dangling for days before throwing it away, or have it be eaten by wolves. At this stage leaving was probably for the best. He took stock of his equipment, mainly his clothing, and with the seven coppers he earned he solemnly vowed to get new underwear. With a swing his backpack was on his back where all backpacks should be, he walked to a nearby trail. His walking was rather uneventful he even began whistling a strange tune he heard from the innkeeper. Then he heard voices. One dark and gravely, the other soft and whiny another stoic and indifferent finally, one deep, and rather evil.

"We fucked 'em good hadn't we?" The gravely voice laughed with a cackle, a cointoss can be heard. Angus made himself quite comfy in the bushes. "But we didn't get the cake!" Whined the other, "It doesn't matter, we got the artifact, our next stop is at the seer." He spoke calmly, he seemed evil but reliable. "I don't like where this is going" Said the evil voice. "People are dying-" he continued until he got interrupted by a bush rustle. A small dog rolled from the bush. They ignored it. "Fine, we'll be more careful." Said the whiny voice in an annoyed tone. Looking towards the dog with suspicion. "I think it's a spy", said the whiny voice. "Shut up, you're just trying to make yourself look good because of your earlier failings", said the calm voice. The whiny voice started to yell again before Angus saw steel drawn. The owner of the voice was now pinned to a tree, a sword thrust through his chest cavity. This made Angus draw a breath. He didn't know the little guy, but seeing him an Impish man, likely influenced by the demons impaled like that, blood running down the blade stopping at the guard before dripping down onto the ground, die so easily. The calm man was vigilant and ruthless to the extreme. "I'm the leader you obey." Yanking out the blade from the poor guy's chest echoed the unsaid message "obey or die". He then kicked the guy over to the dog then went back to sitting on his stone, taking some dry meat from his pack and chewing on it.

Angus was quite curious, if he could get that artifact, he could make a lot of money, or he might even be able to find out more about the curse on the village, or why he felt like he was going crazy go. It might also be a pretty stone, so if it came to that he would just have to wear it as a necklace. Prestige can be quite a bonus. But finding out secrets, gaining prestige all that is worthless if his life was gone. He shook his head, stood up and walked away, some battles weren't worth fighting, but being honest he almost pissed himself when the guy was killed. He had done some delinquent like acts which he didn't regret much, but seeing the event he did, reminded him of his family and how he had almost suffered a similar fate. He went back to walking the path, some hillsides were in sight, but it was starting to get late chilly wind blew through the trees creating a hollow resonance. He was alone. With a sigh he picked some dry twigs and leaves, making sure to get ones with lots of little branches that spread out, he then laid them out so that those offshoots pointed towards the sky, the inside of his contraption was quite smooth, he then picked up some leaves, more branches and some sand and like this he build himself a hovel. It wasn't durable, but the wind wasn't that powerful either. Creeping into his hovel he placed a branch at the entrance to keep out even more of the wind, his action seemed drastic, but he honestly felt like he was dying. Goosebumps littered his skin, shivers cause his body to ache from the strain of shivering, and shivering because it's cold. His nipples were also in pain, he tried to deal with that, but anything he tried just made it worse, his only solution was to try to sleep, which he eventually did.

Morning came, an orange glowing ball slowly ascended into the sky like an angel, an angel of heat, an angel of suffering. But for him, it was an angel nonetheless. His former pains were eased, but his body was still quite sore. He crawled out of his little home and kicked it like a maniac. He stopped for a moment and almost slapped himself, he was trying to reduce the signs that someone had been living here, especially to avoid getting caught by those criminals, but he just made it look like someone knew about the meeting, and tried, but failed to make a coverup. It matched his situation oh so perfectly that he felt an anger, a special kind of self hatred, but he buried those for now, like he buried his lovely home. He dug his nails into his palm. He hadn't just kicked his home to the ground, but he had also crushed a little bird, without further ado he went to a nearby bush and puked out his last dinner.