He had just come back from a long day of hunting to find His wife and child stripped naked, lying on the ground in front of the house. Both lay in pools of blood with their throats slit while four men were loading their belongings into a wagon. Three of those men were dead now and the fourth was dying slowly from Joshua�s arrow protruding from his stomach. The moans of the dying man might as well have been a breeze for all it registered with Joshua.
Looking up at the sun, he calculated it to have been about six hours since he had buried them. The graves were a rare ceremony. Here in Lassitor it was considered an insult to bury the bodies where worms will eat at them. It was believed that to burn them and spread their ashes on the land was the correct way of things. But Clarissa was not from here. He had met his wife in Mesquillia and had brought her here to live. In mesquillia it was a show of respect to bury the dead and not desecrate the bodies.
Drawing his sword, Joshua walked back to the cabin, veering his direction enough to walk towards the dying man. He half expected the man to look afraid as he stood over him with a drawn sword, only to find a look of hope. Hope? Of course! The man was obviously in pain and a lot of it, yet the arrow in his stomach meant a sure death. He looked at Joshua�s sword with hope of being released from the ongoing pain.
Raising his sword Joshua thrust it downwards and stabbed the tip into the sand between the man�s right arm and ribs. �You don�t deserve to be let off that easy!� With that he turned and walked to the house, dragging the sword behind him, allowing it to slide over the man�s right arm leaving a wicked gash.
Throughout the next two days, Joshua did what he could to keep the man alive enough to endure more suffering. The man was covered with small slices from Joshua�s sword, blistered from laying there in the sun and unable to move out of it for the stakes pinning him down where he was. Each wrist and leg had a stake protruding out from it. Eight of the man�s fingers were laying a couple inches from where they use to be attached to his hands. At first he meant to only keep the man alive to live in the pain the arrow caused, at least until the man had let slip that someone had told them they would find an easy bounty here. Joshua wanted to know who it was for that person would be as guilty of his family�s death as these men who killed them.
With a cup of water Joshua crouched down to find the man breathing but unconscious. �Wake up you Bastard!� After a few seconds he nudged the man and spoke again. �C�mon, you haven�t suffered near enough yet. Where does Slevin live?� Slevin was the only name he had gotten from the dying man. No description or whereabouts. Still there was no response from the man. When even the slice of his belt knife brought no more than a slightly deeper breath he dumped the water. Standing up he let out a long sigh. �Aw bloody hell!� Drawing his sword, Joshua thrust it through the dying man�s throat and walked away leaving the sword in its place.
After packing what necessities he would need for traveling, Joshua reached under his bed and pulled out a chest. Setting it on the floor in front of him he sat on the end of the bed and opened it. The chest was of oak, about four feet long and two feet wide. It had been just over four years since he closed it last. Reaching in, he unloaded his most prized possessions. His most detested possessions. What the chest contained was as much apart of him as his own flesh, yet it was a reminder of the past he was not proud of. The past he gave up for the love he has now lost.
First to come out was his cross bow. Not the normal crossbow, this one was much smaller and compact. It was much easier to carry and by far quicker than a normal crossbow to reload. He could get off three darts in the time a man with a regular crossbow can shoot and reload. Though only a fool would rely on a crossbow alone. Stray had learned long ago to keep a standard bow with a quiver of arrows with him as well.
Next came his shandari. Two slim but straight double-edged blades about two feet long, with a steel prong on each side of the hilt. The Shandari were a popular weapon in �Mesquilia� across the ocean, but here in �Lassitor� he was the only man he has ever heard of who was adept with them. Others used them but few would even stand a chance against the average twelve year old in Mesquilia.
Setting the Shandari on the table he reached in to the box and pulled out his Sword. It was a long thin blade that was made of a metal much lighter than steel yet much stronger. The little old man who gave it to him died in his arms before he said much about it. Only, that the �Moon Blade� would draw on the user�s strength if used in the daylight. The one time he used it during the day he had almost gotten himself killed because of the exhaustion that was setting on him and slowing him down. The exhaustion was so much that in truth it saved his life. He was in a dual with a truly gifted guardsman when his legs gave out for a second. When he fell back it was just as the other man was thrusting and caused him to lose his balance also. As the other man stumbled forward Joshua ran him through. He knew how lucky he was that day and since then Joshua has only used the sword during his many forays of the night. During the day it would be wrapped up and put in his bedroll.
Reaching into the box one last time he pulled out a stack of neatly folded clothing. Everything was in black to blend in with the night. Slowly he pulled off his clothing and replaced it with the black garb from the box. Sliding his Cross bow darts and a handful of throwing knives into various pockets on his sleeves and pant legs he stood in front of the lone mirror in his cabin staring at himself. The clothes were snug fitting. The boots were laced up to the knees with the pant legs tucked inside. He wanted nothing to snag in an inopportune time. With a grimace he recalled the words of King Alize the day Joshua was married and left the kings services. �I wish you luck and many happy years with your bride, but I fear you are like many I have known, someday Stray will be walking the night again.� Sliding the Shandari home into the sheaths on his back he looked back to the mirror. �Stray will walk the night again my friend. At least until I find Slevin.� He whispered the words with a sigh. Grabbing his Crossbow and Sword he went out the door to never return.