[center][h1]Jarek[/h1]
[u]Kunlun Mountains[/u][/center]

Jarek stumbled up the windy path, wrapping his cloak tightly around his well built figure. He could hardly hear anything, save it be the wind whipping around him. For the past several hours, he had been making his way towards a ley-line track, one said to be controlled by a wizard or magician of sorts. It was the first real lead he had found since his master was found lying face down in a pool of his own blood. As he slowly made his way up the path, he found himself wondering how much further he had to journey. His supplies were running rather low at this point. He had just enough food for three days, maybe a couple more if he rationed it carefully. True, he was a decent hunter and was rather knowledgeable in the various plants and animals of the land, but hunting took time, time which he felt as if he didn't have. The sooner he found his master's killer the better.

Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure that the mage he was heading towards was his master's murderer. In fact, Jarek knew nothing of the many. All he knew is that he was seen in a rather negative light by all that Jarek had spoken to. If he wasn't the man he was looking for, then Jarek would ask for his help. Perhaps the wizard would help, or perhaps he would turn him away. It was a better lead than Jarek could ask for though, so he couldn't turn down the chance. If it was who he was looking for... then what? Would he knock on the door, draw his sword and deliver justice in one fell swoop? Would it be that easy? Even if it was, would that be justice, the justice and honor that his master had taught him? Or would it make him as bad as the one who took the life of his master?

Jarek pushed the thoughts out of his mind, being filled with rage at the confusion he faced. He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted to act, to find what awaited him at the end of his path and face it head on, decide what to do right then and their. With that final thought, he turned his attention back towards his destination. As he did so, he thought he felt a rumble beneath him, as if there was a large creature up the path, or a small tremor, but he quickly dismissed the thought. It was probably just his nerves, if anything. With nothing else for his mind to dwell on, he began to notice a feeling within him. It was small, at first, almost nonexistent, but it was clearly there. It was that of dread, of fear, one that caused sickly anticipation boiling within him. Whatever lay before him caused his soul to scream at him, begging him to turn back while he could. He cursed his nerves one last time and pressed on.