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Murdock
Murdock awoke. He was on the floor, in his own bedroom, still in stinking clothes of the night before. He tried to open his eyes, but the sunlight was too bright and it hurt. He remembered drinking last night, and felt around lazily for the proof of this myth. His hand found an empty bottle of something. He could not remember what. HIs last memories were of the grave of Zahara, and the hurt look in Mithia's eyes as he left her to go on a journey alone. She had not understood that it was for her own good, as he would be powerless to protect her from the Macaderians if they were thought of to be spies. He felt in his cloak for a particular item and found it. The reason he had to continue living. A promise to fulfill. He took it out and examined its red hue. What a prize this was! Maybe fetch enough gold to retire and live happily...or maybe make him a formible foe against anyone! But he replaced the treasure within the confines of his cloak. Although a rogue and a man that cared only for himself...he could not be so wicked as to enjoy the luxery brought by the deah of a friend...especally as Zahara had made him promise to take it to that guy she mentioned. Obviously, this was important. Maybe there would be a reward! Still feeling tired, Murdock merely laid there on the floor, staring around at the things in his room.
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