Pitt rubbed his face with both hands. He didn't know where he was, and he didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the pain coursing through his head. He needed a drink.

He took stock of his surroundings. He was in the alley between what looked like shops. They were shuttered against the night and bums like him. He needed an inn. That was where the drink was.

He pulled himself together. He wore a suit of clothes that had seen better days, a long rain coat, and a bracelet. He couldn't read the engravings on the bracelet.

He stepped out of the alley. He had his choice of two directions. He picked right. When you didn't know where you were, one direction was as good as any other.

Flames danced on candles in glass lamps on the top of metal poles. Signs marked out which directions to go. Pitt stayed on the road he had started on, hands in his pockets, head down.

It wasn't the first time he had woke up in a strange place with a headache and no way to get home. The last time he had walked home, and it had taken him a while.

He hoped he wasn't going to be on the road that long this time. He needed to find a horse to help him along.

He realized he also needed to know where he was so he could figure out which direction he was supposed to go.

And naturally there was no one around to help him with that.

He chided himself for thinking there would be anyone around in the middle of the night. From the looks of things, the town went to bed with the sun.

Something crashed ahead. He paused to watch for trouble coming toward him. He just wanted to get home. He certainly didn't want to get involved with some kind of bar brawl.

A guy in a blue striped shirt and breeches plunged through the window of a building ahead. He landed on all fours and started running like that away from the building. Heads stuck out of the window and watched him run away into the dark. One of the heads cursed.

Pitt wondered what was going on, but he was not getting involved. He didn't have a stake in things, and he didn't want one.

The four heads brought the rest of their bodies down to the street. They raced after the bounding man in blue. He put them down as some kind of swords for hire, maybe some clerics. He watched them disappear in the darkness. He turned to go the opposite way.

He was sure that whatever was going on was better left to professionals. And church matters were too complicated for him to want to look at them.

And there was a level of corruption that forced them to think he would agree to their demands instead of doing what he wanted. Several clerics he had dealt with had led him to doing bad things to them.

It was better for him to stay away from the local churches. He could get on his feet some other way.

If he was desperate, he could join caravans going in the direction he wanted to go until he got home. He had done that. Walking security was all right, but boring depending where the trains went.

He had been forced to fight off a few bandits along one route. He had been back there once. They still remembered him.

He appreciated that. Most people moved through their lives without making a splash anywhere. That one thing made him smile any time he thought of it.

Pitt walked along slowly. He ignored the sounds of energy burning the air, high pitched whistling, and a voice of a chorus. He couldn't tell if the ruckus was approaching his path from the sounds. He closed his eyes as he thought about the frog man leading his pursuit in a big circle.

He walked alone. He hoped the frog man didn't try to take him hostage. He didn't have time for that.

The frog man dropped down in front of him. He waited with his hands in his pockets. Where were the four hunters?

“It looks like I have someone I can take for a hostage, and food,” said the frog man. He crouched down on his hands and feet. His tongue was longer than what it should be, the eyes a little too wide for a human, and the fingers looked a little too long.

“I think you should keep moving,” said Pitt. “I have a bad headache, and I don't want to deal with other people's problems.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” said the frog man. “I need cover. You're the only candidate. That's how it's going to be.”

“You should keep moving on,” said Pitt. “I'm going to give you a chance. Just walk away and try to take someone else hostage. I just want to get home, and I don't want any trouble.”

“That doesn't concern me,” said the frog man. He opened his mouth to reveal two sharp ridges of teeth for biting and tearing.

“Hold, Branios,” said one of the four chasers. “I, Sir Edward Talos, command you in the name of the Golden Circle to stand away and submit to the rite of banishment.”

“You don't have the authority, sir knight,” said Branios. His goggling eyes watched Pitt. “I already have my claim for food.”

“You are commanded to not hurt anyone,” said Sir Edward. “I command it. I command you in the name of the Golden Circle.”

“I don't have to listen to you, and I won't,” said Branios. “I think my food and I will take our leave.”

“Don't,” warned Pitt. “You don't want to know the trouble that will come down. Just take your banishment and come back as someone else.”

“Shut up,” said Branios. He struck out with his tongue, wrapping it around Pitt's catching hand. He tried to pull the tongue back, and pull his intended victim with it.

Pitt pulled against him. Branios flew at the tramp, leaving the ground with the pull. The other hand came around and slapped the frog man in the face. He split in two. One was a human being becoming normal again. The other was the shadow of an oversized frog that had strange intelligence in its eyes.

“I warned you what would happen,” said Pitt. “Now you don't have a body.”

The other three chasers ran up. They wore light armor, but only one had a cleric's symbols on the sleeve of his armored top. He paused to catch his breath before he started saying prayers in the clerical language.

Pitt blocked out the sound of his voice so he didn't have to parse the language into real words. He started walking.

He ignored the burning in the air and the croaking of a million frogs in a frying pan. He had warned Branios. That was the least he was bound to do. It wasn't his problem if the possessing demon had decided to ignore his words.

Pitt looked back once. The four exorcists were talking to the man that had been possessed. He looked in a bad way. That was to be expected depending on how long he had been possessed. Branios might have used up more from him than what anyone would expect to have.

That wasn't Pitt's problem. He needed to find a place to stay until the day came. Then he could find out where he was, and how far away from home he was. Then came the traveling to get home.

Getting a horse, or joining a wagon train, would get him home that much faster. Getting involved with Sir Talos and his compatriots would keep him in town until he could extract himself from the problem.

Of course the frog demon would come right at him. Every time he wanted to stay out of trouble, bad luck dropped on his door step like a cat bringing home a gift dead bird.

He shook his head and turned into an alley. Once on the other side, he would turn left and head in the same direction he had been going before he had run into the riding demon.