I stood in front of a board filled with faces, and wondered idly, "Human life seems to get cheaper and cheaper every time I care to look..."

I was favoring my right leg, as I still had some slightly damaged flesh on my hip. I'd been able to almost completely heal my kidney, enough that it'll fix itself with time, and I'd stopped most-well, some of the bleeding from my shoulder and back. Turns out I'd been hurt more than I thought-I can walk, but jogging would probably kill me faster than stabbing myself would.

It's been an entire week since I've come to this town, and I'll I'd managed to get is scars. Well, and thirty-seven copper pennies that wouldn't miss their dearly deceased owners. Though, only six remained after buying enough food to live. Times sure are hard...

But, with the grace of god, nothing is impossible!

I continued to browse the faces, wondering which one would be enough to get some bandages. They don't even have to be clean, just not used. But, sadly, all of it was either too strenuous, or not worth enough. I'd always wondered why mercenaries and bounty-hunters always looked so glum and were so irritable, but after spending a week in their shoes, I think I'm already developing what my mother had always called-"The Scowl."

I'd already scared off one or two groups of hooligans with it, so it wasn't really a negative thing. Just made me not want to see my own reflection is all.

I continued grumbling and examining illustrations of faces, wondering which ones could be taunted into coming to me, so I didn't have to walk too far, when I heard a disturbance. I assumed The Scowl and turned, to see three bearded fellows harassing a clean-shaven fellow.

I usually don't concern myself with other peoples problems, unless they are righteous,(or donate a lot) but they were being loud, and my shoulder wound had opened up, and I was just having a bad day.

"Hey." my voice is low, and somewhat gravelly from praying for seven days straight, and I scratch the beginnings of a beard. "Quiet down. Some people are trying to be productive members of society over here."

They take offense to this, and two scoff while the other takes a few angry steps towards me. "Who t'fuck er you? I'm a bounty-hunter, boy, and in case you didn't notice, I can cut you up and serve you fer breakfast!"

I smiled. "Really? I'm simply dying to eat something, so how about you do just that?" I slump exaggeratedly on my walking stick, and pat my stomach.

He scrunched his brow and wiped a hand on his vest. "Wait, are we talking about food? Or violence?"

I hit myself with the staff, and question my choices in life that led to me dealing with idiots. "Oh, I don't care anymore. Just harass more quietly, that's all I'm asking."

He shrugged, then turned away. I sighed and turned back to inspecting faces, until I hear a high-pitched yelp. "Hey! I thought you were helping me, are you just going to abandon me to these people?!"

I turn back, and hold up a finger. "If you really want help, then answer two questions."

The clean-shaven fellow nods quickly. "Whatever you ask!"

"One, do you believe in god and all of his mercy, may his divine name be spoken of in reverent whispers and victorious cries?"

"Yes!"

"Two, when was the last time you made a donation to the church?"

"Um, uh, I think it was...maybe last...um..."

I turned away, but the fellow cried out, "Wait! I'll go make a donation right after this! Okay!?"

I smile, a great, big, room-encompassing one, and spread my arms. "Oh, ye true believer, let this humble worshiper of god do a service for ye!"

The bearded-idiot looked even more confused. "So wait, are we-"

I hit him in the temple with my stick, then twirl it around my neck to catch it with my right hand and hit bearded-idiot #2 in the chin, before spinning and thrusting the end of the stick into bearded-idiot #3s' stomach. One and two collapse, and number three hunches over on his knees and groans. I find the noise annoying, so I hit him in the back of the head to shut him up. I then smile at the beardless-not-idiot, and start heading towards the church while beckoning with my hand.

The non-bearded fellow starts following me, but nervously points at my back and whispers, "Uh, thanks and all, but your back is sort of, I dunno, dripping, and was your shirt always red?"

I reply, "I can't remember. Does it matter?"

The fellow nods several times saying, "I guess not..."

After watching a sad fellow dropping coins into a donations bowl next to a smiling priest, I begin to walk back to the board to contemplate how many people I'll have to kill to get some bandages. The fellow hurries up to me and makes me stop.

"Wait, I just wanted to ask...you seem kind of, lost, and I was thinking that I know stuff and you have a stick and maybe together we could-"

"First, tell me your name. Then, promise me that by the end of today I'll have something to stop the bleeding. Then, I'll do whatever you want me to for one week. After that, we can negotiate. Deal?"

"Oh! Okay, deal. My name is Ren, and I promise to get you some bandages! Oh, and what's your name?"

I grunt, then follow the energetic Ren. "Cyscon, but you can call me Cys, or Conny. Now, lead the way."

Ren grinned, then started walking down the central avenue in the direction of the main road. "Sure thing, Cys!"

Ren kept chattering on about this, and that, and some other stuff, but I was having trouble not fainting from blood-loss, so I didn't really pay attention. Next thing I knew, I was tied up in a chair, upside down, hanging from a rope in the middle of an arena surrounded by spectators, with a gang-leader and a dozen buddies all howling for blood, and Ren smiling sadly down at me, a very full purse in hand.

But, at least I had bandages.