He had traveled this road before. Not the dirt path that led to the highway, but the leaving of friends to complete his task. He had done this hundreds of times now and it never grew easier. His quest began hundreds of years ago. The only guide he had was that once he had found a new path, his quest would be over. No one knew the true origin of the quest, save for that two of the Primordial Forces had set it. He was the most well known man in the world. He could not die of disease or old age, only by an other's hand. When another's hand struck him down, the quest would then pass on to whom ever struck him down. He had lived for over eight hundred years.
    His thoughts were dismal as he led his pack horse onto the main highway heading north. 'Perhaps there I shall find more clues,' he thought to himself as he and his beast trudged along their way. He had long since forgotten his own name, simply accepting the title "Quester."
    Across the five continents, there is little that he has not seen. Bandits, footpads, and the like know him on sight and know that he will not interfere and that to harm him will bring his punishment upon them.
    Every few years of traveling he would find a place that felt right. When he came across one of these places, he would set up his home. So it was the last time. What was unusual about this one was that there was no people within fifty miles, the closest stream was a good mile, and that the soil was too poor for crops. Even in the face of this he set up his home.
    True to his instincts, people came. The dirt trail he wore from getting water became part of a highway system and a town grew up not far from his home. He got to know the townsfolk well. After two generations there the place felt wrong. As if something had changed. As he had told the people he would, he disappeared into the wilderness in which not even a hunter could have found him.
    For over one million years a quester has existed. The legends have become vaguely remembered fairy tales, the end to the quest was lost in war, and the quester has been passed down a total of 34 people, including the current one. Be kind to the lonely man who is walking down the road that has been well worn by his own shoes. Don't ridicule or perhaps you'll have to face his quest too...