It is a few hours after the storm started to brew. Torrents of rain relentlessly hurdled toward the forest ground, what was once dry dirt had now slicked into thick mud. Trees fought against the wind, a last ditch attempt to hold onto the ground that protected them. Stood in solitude off to the right side of the centre of the forest was a lonely log cabin. Seemingly protected from the rain, it offers shelter to its residents. The resident in question is Geoffrey Moore, a governor at the town hall of Galdor, a town on the outskirts of the forest. He is currently vacationing away because of accusations of fraud that may or may not be true.
A few kilometres away a man was practically wading through the mud, his sheet metal plated boots sinking deep into the mud. While movement was difficult it wasn't impossible. The man moved with purpose, an unrelenting force pushed him onwards.
Geoffrey sat relaxed in an armchair staring up at the ceiling with his eyes closed. Who wouldn't when you had just skimmed a couple hundred gold off the townsfolk. He sighed in relief as he heard rain pour over the cabin, using it as a sign of success for his actions. He could live comfortably off his "earnings" for the remainder of his life, he could always assume a new identity if needed. He jolted up when he heard a thud on his door, Geoffrey had arranged for supplies to be delivered fortnightly for a high sum, however the secret knock had not been given. Geoffrey was a man of high intelligence... debatably, so he knew there was a chance this wasn't the delivery. But due to the heavy rain and long hike required to get to the cabin he assumed that the delivery boy was soaked and just wanted to go home, he reasoned who wouldn't. So unsuspectingly he opened the door, but he did not find a boy with a box of supplies, instead a man covered neck to toe in armour stood before him.
"Who are you" Geoffrey said with a mix of surprise and shock of this strange man.
"You are Geoffrey Moore aren't you" the man grumbled, getting to the point straight away.
Geoffrey's face went pale as practically all the blood was drained out of it, he took a step back to create distance but the man just stood forward. The mud off the man's boots spattered across the floor as he invited himself in. His armour was visible through a dripping tattered garb that had been strewn over the man, it was dulled and covered in marks of all kinds, gouges, claw marks, dents and even in some places the metal had melted and became malformed. The garb he wore seemingly covered some sort of weapon he had on his back, whatever it was, it was big.
"Uhh who? I have never heard of such a name" he chuckled, trying to stop his heart from beating out of his chest. The man unimpressed began to talk.
"The Mercenary guild said that you were somewhere in this forest, so I came to find you"
Geoffrey's voice seemed to go up an octave "B-B-But this forest is huge, you couldn't have possibly searched all of it"
"Yeah, I would have been here sooner, I didn't expect the forest to be this big or the storm. Either way I'm here now so lets get this over with" with that his hand reached behind his back, grabbing onto the handle of his weapon, in a simple movement he unsheathed his weapon and faced it towards Geoffrey. A hulking great axe was face to face with Geoffrey, its handle was covered in rivets and scrap metal holding the shattered piece of wood together. The blade was a thick slab of sharpened steel covered with more marks than his armour. The weapon was one that had been tormented over many years of fighting. Geoffrey fell to his knees tears now welling in his eyes as he began to beg.
"Please I will give you anything you want, I can get you money, a lot of money" his voice was heavy with fear but also laced with trickery as concealed in his sleeve was a dagger.
An intrigued look spreads across the man's face "How much money?" his demeanour had completely changed, from being strictly business focused to now being more negotiable.
"I could give you hundreds of gold pieces we... no you could be rich" as the man nods in agreement Geoffrey places his hands behind his back and slips the dagger into his palm, he rotates his hip drawing back his arm as he takes a wide swing at the man's neck. The man rotates his ace and the strike is blocked by the blade of his axe, the force had such minimal impact that there wasn't any proof of the attack on the man's weapon.
"What, how did you do that. Who are you?" The cloaked man raises his axe and brings it down onto Geoffrey Moore. The blade made contact with his shoulder and sliced all the way down to his hip before the man began twisting his axe until Geoffrey's entire left side had been freed from the rest of his body. Blood sprayed over the walls of the cabin covering furniture and artwork that had been hung over the fireplace, roars of agony came from his mouth. However the man's face showed no emotions, he seemed to gain no discomfort or pleasure from his actions.
In a deep grumbly voice now shaken back into seriousness the man spoke "I am Ragnar, A Mercenary" He raised his axe again and swung it through Geoffrey Moore's head, separating it from his body. As the head flew mid-air Ragnar opened a burlap sack and readied it for the head's descent. As more blood spewed out of the flying head he snatched it out of the air using his bag and tying it closed with a rope. He then turned ready to leave, he wiped his muddy, wet and blood stained boots on the rug before leaving for the trek back to the town of Galdor.
A couple of hours later a boy carrying a sack over his shoulders walked up to the cabin, he was exhausted. He had been promised a high pay for delivering some supplies to a cabin near the end of the forest every two weeks, and so he did. The storm had powered through most of the forest leaving nothing dry, the journey had been horrible, the wind the rain and the mud oh the mud. But it would all be worth it he thought, the pay would be worth it. He knocked onto the door using the secret knock that had been showed to him... but nothing, no one was there to answer it. So he invited himself in , to his horror he found the man who was meant to pay him lying on the floor. Half his torso has been gouged out from his left side causing his guts to spill out of the gap in his ribs. He lay in a pool of his own blood and the worst part was, he had no head. The mans head had seemingly been separated from his body and was nowhere to be seen, the cut was rather clean too. Just as the boy was about to lose it as he wouldn't be paid and the site of the massacred corpse, he noticed a glimpse of gold peeking from a chest covered in blood. He walked over and lifted the cover open, the blood poured over the top of the chest but inside was heaps of gold pieces. His eyes lit up the same colour as the gold and he envisioned a life of luxury. But he knew that when he came back with this much money his family and friends would want it and he couldn't have that. The only way to keep all the money was to run away with it and never return, and so he did, without saying anything to his family.
What good can come from such greed?