*Year three hundred and sixty-eight of the imperial lunar calendar, side branch of the Primal Expanse.*

Moonlight shone brightly over Everlasting, one among the many regional provinces of the Dawn Empire. In particular, the moonlight was especially strong in a large town known as Schlechitz.

There, the locals marveled at the bright moonlight, making it seem as if it was daytime. Though it was nighttime, one could still find people about. Lovers taking a stroll under a romantic moon, hunters leaving to set themselves up for the hunt early next morning, and quite a few drunkards stumbling around the streets.

Constable Renford was seen by many as a sensible man by all accounts, but even he was going to have trouble justifying his actions to himself after tonight. It all began with the troubles he had at home. For weeks now, he had the nagging suspicion that his wife was cheating on him. He wasn't the man to throw around baseless accusations, he thought it might be his overly suspicious nature playing tricks on him. That theory went out the window when he got wind of a rumor, she had been seen in quiet conversation with the town's chief jailer.

Needless to say, the moment she got home was a rowdy one. She utterly refused any such theories as fairy tales and said that if he had any proof of such suspicion, that he should bring them forward. Constable Renford was in a tough spot then, when he couldn't present anything of the kind. She had chased him around the house with a broom, trying to smack the life out of him, screaming curses at him for believing in rumors.

At the time, he had decided to apologize. They made up, and the only sensible way for any married couple to make up is in bed. It had turned out to be quite an intense and embarrassing affair for Renford. Especially when he finished too early. His wife, however, didn't complain and snuggled into his arms, falling asleep.

Renford was rather pleased with himself and happy at the time, but the rumors did not go away. Neither did his suspicion. Rather, it grew intact with the contents of the rumors, which turned more and more scandalous by the day. Finally today, on his day off, he had decided to drown his worries with alcohol. The in he had chosen was a famous one, Dark Gold. Name aside, it was a great establishment.

He decided to sit with the locals for a change, and they embraced him with open arms. The drinking company tonight consisted of; Tom the miller's son, Gustaf chief blacksmith of the town, Gurmund who apprenticed at the tinker's shop, and old Bill, the man to see at Butcher's Alley if you want quality meat.

Renford mostly sat and listened to the conversation, but eventually, he got bored with the talk. It mostly consisted of the latest outside news, who was going to become mayor, or how good the farmers thought the year's harvest would be. In general boring stuff. Eventually, though, old Bill began to talk about something that caught Renford's attention at once.

"Quiet your pups... I have something worthwhile to say, and nay shall I say it before you are quiet. Do not interrupt me either Tom! You can ask your questions later, got it?"

The men around the table remained silent, and Tom's only reply was to nod.

Old Bill put on a satisfied smirk before he continued. "As you all know, I work and live in Butcher's Alley. I have seen many a strange sight during my lifetime, and as you all know, I don't believe in nonsense... Though what I might tell you next, might sound like nonsense, remember that I am the one telling you about it. Do you know me as a liar, Tom? What about you Gustaf? Have I not spoken only the truth in all the time you have known me? Am I not a man of my word?"

Gustaf sat up, nodding. "Aye, I have known you all my life Bill, I haven't caught you lying to me till this day. I shall give your tale credence, considering that you are the one telling it. Even if a bit outlandish, as it might turn out to be."

Old Bill smiled gratified at Gustaf for a second, before beginning his story.

"The beginning of my tale takes place on a night much like this one, three weeks ago. It was a stormy evening as you all perhaps remember? We had not seen rain like what came down that day, in ages. Any sensible person would have remained indoors, but me being the fool I am, forgot my best set of knives at my shop. I ran back, fearing it might be stolen or damaged by the damp air." He stopped for a moment, a lost expression on his face now as if he was experiencing whatever he saw that day once more.

"Go on Bill!" Urged Gustaf.

Bill seemed to be recalled to the present, and took a hefty swig of his tankard of ale, before continuing. "Thank you, Gustaf. As I was saying, I had just run through the soaking rain, with only the poor light of the street lanterns to guide me. It was quite dark, and while I was fiddling with the lock to my shop, I suddenly heard some strange noise off in the distance."

The old man shivered slightly as if the mere memory kept him awake at night. Nonetheless, he kept going.

"At first, it didn't bother me too much, we live in the city after all. But then it got closer, enough for me to make out that it was a voice... Never in my life have I heard something quite like that voice. It was as if someone shoved a bunch of rusty nails down the throat of a hoarse man. The worst part was not that voice itself however, it was what it was saying..."

At that exact moment, as if it was a bad omen, the shutters of the tavern rattled while the wind howled. Everyone at the table was jumped with a start, as an earsplitting peal of thunder made itself known to the people inside.

Old Bill looked grimmer than ever as he gazed towards, the once again, calm shutters. He looked back down at the ale sitting placed before him. It appeared he was having second thought's about the whole ordeal, but in the end, his hubris won out. He took another long swig of it, before having the courage to go on.

"So, where was I? Yes! There was that voice... At first, I couldn't make out what it was saying, but when it finally got closer... I think I shall try to retell the whole ordeal as well as I possibly can, but no promises."

He took a deep breath, and then began retelling the tale as he recollected:

It was raining hard that night, as I have already said... Nobody but me and the rats was out... I had just reached the store door and was struggling with the lock when it happened...

...

"This blasted lock... I am a fool for forgetting the damn lantern as well. Ah, here it is! Now if I can just get that twist right, I will be able to -"

"Blooo! Ge me bloo..."

"What the heck?! What was that? Hello! Is anyone out there?" I clearly remember that moment like it was yesterday... It was someone halfway shouting... But that voice, that voice... If a man had been screaming for a whole week, he couldn't have had a hoarser voice...

"Blooo! Ge... me bloo... I te yooo fort!!"

"This ain't funny! Fucking door, open up damn it! There! Finally!"

I had just managed to get inside, grab my tools and a lantern before I noticed that the voice had stopped screaming. Carefully, I lit up my lantern. Holding it high, I tried to see outside the window. To my great relief, I saw nothing.

Whatever that was... It seemed to have gone. Phew, I am getting too old for this... I should have just gambled with my tools, this stuff is going to make me tense for weeks... Or so I thought. Until a flash of lightning lit up the entire street.

There, by the end of the street, illuminated by that flash of lightning, stood a man. I could not make out much from that distance and in that poor light, but this I know, I was looking at a mean bastard. Even the toughest cutthroats in town would run meeting this man on a night like this... I never really saw what he looked like, but what I did see, were his eyes...

Some say the eyes are the window to the soul... That night, I started believing in that saying. His eyes even at that distance, shone with a madness hard for me to comprehend... It was like looking at some wild beast! The worst part was that it felt as if he was staring right back at me, even in that darkness...

Needless to say, I ran for the door and threw the bolts down, before I put out my lantern light. Then I hid beneath my desk facing the window. Time seemed to go on forever, and I couldn't hear him approaching through the heavy pounding from all the rain, alas he came.

In another bright flash of light, shadows were cast. That's when I saw it, flowing across my floor, just beyond the shelter of my desk, his shadow. He had clearly pressed himself up against the glass and was now looking in. Looking for me...

I did not see anything of him after that, it was quiet for a long time and just when I thought he was gone, I heard scratching at the door. With that scratching came the same rasping voice, but the content was clear as day this time around.

"Give me your blood old man... I promise that it won't hurt… I will even grant you three questions in return... You can ask me anything, I will give you the answers you seek... Just give me a tiny bit of your blood..."

There and then, I can honestly say that it is the most terrifying moment I have experienced in my long life. What happened after that, and where he went, I do not know. I probably passed out, for when I woke up the next morning, he was gone. At first, I thought it might have been just another bad dream... Night's like that play tricks on your imagination you know... But it turned out to be all too true. On the outside of my door, were long and bloody marks left by fingernails ripping into the wood. There was even a nail left behind, drilled so tight into the wood that I had to use a set of pliers to get it loose.

...

"As a matter of fact, I brought that thing around with me. I have it here, have a look." With that, old Bill took out a pouch from his belt, and threw it on the table, before crossing his arms. Looking at the pouch as if it was something venomous.

Renford, Gustaf, Gurmund, and Tom looked at each other. They had all been captivated by the thrilling tale, but when it came down to confirm the truth of the old man's words, nobody wanted to be the first one. In the end, Renford gathered his courage from a long career as a constable and went for the pouch. He loosened the string that was coiled tight around the end and emptied out the contents onto the table.

They all drew a sharp breath. There it was, a dirty, split, and bloody fingernail. It was covered in dried blood and smelled of decay. Besides Renford, who had seen a lot worse in his time, the others' turned pale. Tom ran from the table, looking rather ill. The other two handled it better, but their faces were all but drained of blood.

"So it is true then?" Asked Gurmund.

"Aye, it appears so..." Replied Gustaf.

"I wish that it wasn't the case, but aye lads. It all happened. Gods know what that thing might be up to these days. Hopefully, the madman has gone and offed himself. Giving us all some measure of peace." Bill cut in.

Renford looked at it for a long while, before taking a deep breath and turning to old Bill. "So how much of what that madman ranted about, do you reckon is true? I mean, do you think it might be possible for him to answer any questions you might give him?"

The old man sat upright and looked at Renford as if he wasn't quite there in the head. He gaped at him, not speaking for a long while, before taking his time to reply.

"I don't know what is going through that head of yours lad, but if you be thinking of trying to find that madman... Then you are on your own. Questions are damned, he wants blood in return, doesn't he? You can't really be considering to trade your blood just to get some bloody question's answered now, can you?" Even Gurmund and Gustaf looked at him sideways now, and Renford couldn't help but slightly blush.

"Enough about that creepy man, let's find ourselves some other damned topic... The stripling over there is looking pale enough as it is. I know! Let me tell you of the time I was lucky enough to go work for the bailiff at the lord's mansion! I bet you, lads, never even seen the inside of his mansion, eh?"

With that, the talk of the madman living in the alley was over with. Tom came back to rejoin the rest of the company, while old Bill went on and on about his days' working for the bailiff. Renford however, couldn't. He was stuck in his head, thinking over the tale he just heard. Would it not be worth losing a little blood to put his marriage trouble at rest? After all, he was a constable, investigation was his job anyway. The worst thing that could happen was that his suspicions would be confirmed.

So on and on it went, far into the night. The others were far gone, and nothing much of sense came out of them. Eventually, the barkeep told them it was closing time, and so they all got up to leave. Outside, they went their separate way's promising to meet more often if time allowed.

...

Now, constable Renford stood before the entrance of the dark Butcher's Alley, thinking himself the biggest fool in town. It had seemed a good idea at the inn, but out here in the darkness... He was having second thoughts. If, and just if, this madman wouldn't kill him and answered all of his questions, that would be a good thing. On the other hand, the chances of him ending up in the gutters with his entrails hanging out could be considered the bigger possibility.

Just when his courage wavered at the last moment, the moon came back out from behind a cloud, and the dark street was suddenly not that dark, nor scary anymore. Renford drew a sharp breath before he headed into the alley with firm strides.

Already after taking his first steps inside the alley, he could smell blood. It wasn't that odd, it was a street full of butcher's shops, but still, his nerves started twitching again. His footsteps echoed across the pavement, making him feel pretty lonely. It would probably have been a nice walk if he didn't have that crazy fellow on his mind.

Finally, he reached what had to be old Bill's shop. There on the door, were terrible scars scratched all over that piece of wood. Dark and dried blood could still be seen in places old Bill couldn't have reached while cleaning it.

Renford steadied himself and brought out a knife he always carried around with him. Laying it on his palm, the sharp side down. Bracing himself for the pain to come, he drew it back in a swift motion. Blood spilled out between his clenched fingers. I painted the pavement red beneath his feet. Bright healthy blood, followed by a slight smell of iron.

"I am here! I am willing to give you my blood, but you need to answer three of my questions in return you hear me!?" Renford screamed his lounges out in the silence, his voice echoing down the street.

Renford waited quietly for a long time until his pulsing palm started to ache, before deciding that the madman wasn't here. He had just started to rip a piece of cloth from his sleeve when he suddenly noticed a shadow fell over him.

He spun around, and there he was...

A man, not too tall, but not short either. Head completely bare, wearing a filthy and travel-worn coat of the type fishermen used. His face was barely hidden by the poor light, but Renford still saw his eyes. Yes, this was the man old Bill talked about alright... There couldn't be any mistake here. Those pair of eyes, with a slight sickly tinge of yellow to them, radiated with something other people did not have. Madness.

It was as if Renford was facing an animal, not a man. At least not the kind of man belonging to this world.

"You called for me, and so I have come... You needn't bother wrapping that up, we are going to need that blood..." A hoarse voice, hard on the ears, quietly rung out on the empty street.

Renford swallowed hard, not at all convinced that this man was some sort of all-knowing seer. Now that he thought about it, why did he even come here?! He probably didn't stand a chance if this madman decided to kill him...

His train of thought was interrupted by the madman coming closer. His movements were truly that of an animal. He slightly lurched forward, arms dangling side to side, as he quietly stepped towards Renford.

Renford wanted to escape, but found to his horror, that he couldn't move. All the while, his gaze was held by that pair of piercing, yellow-tinged, mad eyes. The man got closer and closer to him now, close enough for Renford to sense the revolting smell of rot and unwashed clothes... This mad man stank, and badly at that, but it wasn't until he revealed his open mouth that Renford truly felt horrified.

A gaping maw, filled with sharp pointy teeth. It was far wider than that of your average human as if his jaws were off their hinges. Renford could even make out scraps of rotten meat between those nasty teeth.

The madman was in front of him now. He gazed down at Renford's bleeding arm, and waited another while, looking back up at Renford. Eventually, though, his gaze wandered back to that bleeding palm, which he grabbed in a grip that felt like iron pincers. Slowly, Renford's palm was brought up to the madman's face. He sniffed loudly for a second, and with a sigh of relief, took it to his mouth.

Renford wanted to scream but found that he could not. All the while, he felt a nasty wet mouth had covered his palm. Next, he felt something wet and rough, a tongue, beginning to lick his palm as a dog might. His hair stood on end now, he felt sick. This was too much, but if he thought that was the end of it, he was mistaken. Suddenly the pressure around his palm increased tenfold, then came the nasty sucking sound. He felt blood rushing into his arm like a stream, and the pain was even worse. Like tiny ants running up and down his entire arm.

This went on for a long while until Renford started to feel light-headed. Finally, the madman had his fill. Renford barely felt him wrap his wound in a strip of cloth, before giving a belch in satisfaction.

"My, oh my... I haven't had a meal like this in a long, long while now. I've been forced to live of pig's blood for the last week... You know, pig's blood tastes revolting... It's just so greasy and fat, not at all like good quality blood from a healthy human. Anyway, I am digressing, I have promised you three questions'. Go ahead, ask me what you want to know, and I shall answer them." The madman suddenly did not sound all that hoarse anymore. It did not help much though, Renford already felt he was mad enough as it was.

"R-right! I won't take up much more of your time, so here is my first question. Is my wife being unfaithful?!"

The madman licked his lips with a swirl of his tongue, and put one hand beneath his chin, pondering for a while. Before answering.

"No. The man you think she is being unfaithful with his her cousin, they are planning a birthday gift for you. It is coming up next week, is it not so?"

"Yes! How did you know?! Wait- you said he is her cousin? I thought she didn't have any kin left in town! How is it possible, shouldn't I at least know about him?" Renford was shocked by the reply he got. How could this be? He had braced himself for a reply ten times worse than this.

"That your second question then? Fine. She and he played husband and wife when they were young at their old family place out in the countryside. When her family was killed years ago, she assumed he was killed as well. She didn't find out about it until they met by coincidence on market street. She is planning to reveal him to you on your birthday... That good enough for you?" The madman had an impatient look on his face now, not exactly pleased with Renford doubting his answers.

Renford's world spun around him now. The lack of blood, in addition to the explosion of unexpected information taking place in his brain. Of course! How could he doubt his wife? This man, mad as he might be, was making a lot of sense. Renford was on the edge of crying out in relief but managed to remember to ask his last question.

"I know I am being a bastard for asking this question, but I have to know. Will my wife leave me? And if, with whom?!" Renford was tense beyond words right now. This was asking a lot, he knew, who could tell the future? He had a feeling, however, that if someone could tell him, it would be this man.

The man studied him for a long while, before answering.

"Yes. It will be with that cousin of hers. It appears playing husband and wife while young leaves a big imprint on one's heart. Unless you can turn around the current course of events, you will indeed be alone in a few years."

Clash! Renford's world broke apart. He fell limply to his knees, tightly squeezing his fists in suppressed rage and loss. What he feared most, was going to happen. He was going to be alone for the rest of his days. His happy married life would be taken by another.

"I... Thank you for being honest... I know it is too much to ask, but can you grant me another three questions'?! It can't end like this! We do not even have any children yet!" Renford was desperate now, begging on his knees, looking pleadingly up at the stranger.

"No, I am afraid I only grant questions once. However, since you were kind enough to give me your blood of free will, I shall answer you. Go to a brothel, ask them how to best please a woman if your gear below doesn't do the trick. Practice some if you must. Then go back home and please your wife till she is in the sky, and make her pregnant if you have to try from then till next year. That is your only chance." His voice was slightly amused now.

Renford was mind blown once more. He had never considered this to be the cause. Yes, he was quick to finish in bed, but didn't she look happy enough by the end? Thinking to ask whether or not this was the real cause, he looked up, but the madman was gone. The street was completely void of life, he was all alone. Thinking carefully about the madman's advice, he decided to give it a go. As long as his marriage could be salvaged, it was worth any humiliation on his part.

Little did Renford know, that the madman he just met, was going to become an eternal legend in the Primal Expanse for ages come, and his own end of the bargain, was far from over...