Has to be nerves.

Cool water splashed Raistline's flushed face. Beads of water slowly trickled through his beard, dripping to the basin below. He stared long and hard into the eyes reflected in the mirror.

Your a killer. Military trained. You've lost a fight with a Dark Lord and still survived. You can handle this.

Through meditation his breath slowly calmed. The prep talk completed, mind set on the mission, he pushed himself from the counter. Turning, he eyed his prey.

Without emotion he donned the plastic gloves. Methodically, he laid down the plastic guard on the table to insure no bodily fluid would stain the table. Callously he lifted the body to the table, withdrawing a knife from his belt. Reaching slowly down he cut.

Raistline’s robed arm covered his nose as the smell wafted to him. This was the part of the mission he knew would be the hardest. Determined hands worked. Another cut of the knife, the body kicking furiously before him. The body screamed, anguished at the torment Raistline pushed on it. Slowly the knife slid from Raistline’s hand to his belt.

Viciously, dispassionately, he tore the soiled cloth still clinging to the body. Discarding it and reaching left, Raistline grabbed the fabric meshed device. Slowly he held it out towards the screaming body, preparing to wrap it above its kicking feet. A warm wet stream splashed upon his face, soiling the locks of his hair.

This is the last time I baby-sit for anyone.

Almost four years ago I came home to a note on my desk.

For the past three years prior to the note I spent most of my time working as a cook in a small pub on Axxila. The pay was lousy and the housing was horrid, but I never seemed to notice. In fact this may have been the only time in my life that I was truly happy; for I had Maria.

While on a reconnaissance mission to Arkanis I had found refuge from the incessant rain in a crowded bar. Sitting in a corner, trying to blend in while nursing my drink, a woman fighting with the jukebox caught my attention. After much shaking and kicking the machine finally gave in to her violent assault. To the annoyance of the crowd on the dance floor an unpopular jizz tune came on. For the next five minutes she was the only one dancing. My eyes never left her as those flowing brown locks of hers danced with her. Two drinks later I had the courage to talk to her.

We were married within the year. I abandoned the Brotherhood, my life for my wife, and settled down on Axxila. Never before had I known such happiness and didn’t mind the working life. I was content, though had no idea she was not. Then one day the note on my desk. She had crawled out of my life, and following, I crawled into a bottle.

Manually added