The inn stood much as it always had, except the front window was now broken, and a few broken pieces of furniture were scattered across the yard. The bodies of four liveried guards were scattered around the yard as well, and the trail of blood leading away indicated the direction that the rest had taken.
Sitting on the front step was a figure that could have been mistaken for a beggar were it not for his eyes. Solid orbs of a piercing blue the color of deep seas, they seemed to glow of their own internal light. The figure let out a heavy sigh and stood up.
The cloak he wore--merely ragged before--was sliced almost to ribbons, and dripped with blood. The destroyed garment slipped from his shoulders, and the innkeeper--still huddled inside--got his first good look at the man. He was not overly large, standing not quite six feet tall, and not very broad of shoulder, but muscles rippled and bulged beneath his skin. The innkeeper's eye's grew even wider if that were possible; the man's body was crisscrossed with scars, several directly over his heart. Now wearing nothing but a pair of short pants that had been shredded to a little longer than knee-length, the figure turned to look at the innkeeper.
"I'm sorry this happened to you, you deserve better for being willing to have a penniless beggar sleep in your inn. I know he won't, but I hope Avi compensates you all the same."
"Wh.. who... WHAT... are you?!"
The figure smiled grimly, "that is a much more complicated question than you realize, but if you desire a name, you can call me Faolan... it's the best I have any more."
He stood suddenly straight and still, and seemed almost to be smelling the air, "I must depart now, I hope the morning brings you more peace than it will to me."
Faolan headed immediately for the woods outside the town. Finding a small stream, he followed it until he found what he was looking for, a tree growing close by the water. He crouched low, his hands almost touching the ground, and leapt. He moved as though shot from a bow. Flying nearly twenty feet up, he latched onto the trunk of the tree, trying to avoid any of the smaller limbs that might break and betray his presence. Showing unhuman agility, Faolan spun around and jumped clear of the tree, away from the creek. He crashed to a halt in a bush around sixty feet away. He took a few moments to patch over his landing site, concealing it from at least a glance if not a thorough search, and took off at a near-sprint northwards.
Avi would come looking for him again, of that he was now certain; the best he could hope for was to put plenty of distance between them.
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