It was another boring noon of another boring day of an all-together boring week. The road was as familiar as the back of his hand, and what had started as an exciting career opportunity as a caravan driver, had become just another way to waste his life. When the surly old man - a friend of the lad's grandfather - had retired, the young man was quick to offer himself as a replacement in driving the caravans from Razorplain deep into the heart of the elven communities and the merfolk conclaves. Little did he expect he would only drive a caravan in the singular form, and for fourteen months had he now done nothing but cross the road between Razorplain and Rez Lagoon, both ways, with untalkative merchants and uninteresting commoners.<br/><br/>He had hoped the monotony of yet another journey would be broken when an odd-looking fellow had come towards his caravan as it was stationed in Rez Lagoon, waiting for enough customers to make the return trip profitable. At first the stranger had, indeed, managed to bring a spark to life in the young caravan driver, if only because he looked so odd it brought a smirk to his face. The young man had never seen nobility before, but he imagined they looked like exaggerated versions of the bloated, bejewelled merchants he occasionally had for customers, so the sight of a coper-haired man as thing as his blade was more of a curiosity than someone to demand respect. He was dressed expensively and rested a sword on his shoulder, but he had such smooth features it was impossible for the young man not to smile through the entire exchange of payment, and he shook his head once the stranger had turned his back and jumped in the back of the caravan, from where he soon began to whistle merrily.<br/><br/>The stranger looked like a woman. It took a while for the thought to manifest itself in the young man, but afterwards it would not leave his mind. The stranger did not have a hint of a facial hair, not even the remnants of a shave, and even beyond that there no lines in his face to indicate sturdiness. The young man almost wanted to head into the back of the caravan and poke the stranger just to feel how soft his skin was, but common decency prevented him. The thought, still, would bring him an occasional smile throughout the boring days to follow.<br/><br/>The whistling stopped and the smooth voice of the stranger rang out from inside the caravan wagon. The young man noticed that his voice lacked deep tones, and the young man made a mental note to see if the stranger even had an Adam's apple.<br/>"How long until we are leaving?"<br/>The young man smiled. He was not the only one who was impatient, and he could not help but feel good when he informed the stranger that they were leaving when the caravan was full, which could take days.<br/><br/>A loud sigh escaped the caravan wagon, before the stranger jumped out, still with his sword in hand, which did shake the young man a bit out of his comfort zone.<br/>"I hate waiting," the stranger said bluntly, while smiling amicably. He wore a look of content tranquillity even when claiming to be displeased, and despite pointing the sword at the young man's leg, there was no threat to be found on his face. The stranger fiddled with his belt and then gently tossed a few coins to the young man, who caught it and stared in disbelief. He had driven with merchants for more than a year now, but this was the first time he held a coin of solid gold. He put it in his mouth and bit down, feeling the coin bend slightly, and failed to reply probably when the stranger told him: "that is for setting out now."<br/>"What... is your name, sir?"<br/>"Pete Girly!" the man replied and briskly walked back to the wagon. The young man burst into a short snicker before he could control himself, but Girly never lost his smile.<br/><br/>That was the last time he had any fun. It had been five days on the open roads and he had hardly exchanged a word with Pete Girly, who had never asked for his own name in return. Pete kept to himself inside the caravan wagon where he mostly alternated between whistling, reading and, if the sounds were any indication, jump around. He most often had the young man bring food to him when the horses rested, or he lived off of his own rations, and on all but two of the occasions the young man had tried to initiate a conversation with him from his seat at the front of the caravan, Pete had completely failed to respond.<br/><br/>A familiar turn of the road was coming up, and the young man position the caravan at the far right side of the road to avoid hitting a medium-sized rock he had never been bothered to have removed, even though it once damaged a wheel.<br/>"Where are we going?" Pete called from his secluded wagon.<br/>"Just a sharp turn, nothing to worry abut," the young man said, slightly confused.<br/>"No, I mean, what is the destination of this caravan." The young driver was baffled by the question and almost stuttered when he replied "Razorplain".<br/>"Oh," was Pete's initial reaction. "And how long until we arrive?"<br/>The young man was completely bewildered by the conversation, but finally managed to respond: "Eleven more days... sir."<br/>"Then stop the wagon," Pete called, and almost like clockwork, did the front wheel of the caravan hit the medium-sized rock and stopped.<br/><br/>Pete emerged and calmly walked up to the young driver, still smiling and still carrying his sword unsheathed.<br/>"I'll take one of your horses, and then leave here." Pete still wore his tranquil smile and tossed some silver on the ground as payment for the horse.<br/>"Where are you going to go?"<br/>"I do not know," Pete said casually, as he worked to untie the brown mare from the rest of the horses.<br/>"What do you mean, you don't know?" the young man asked incredulously.<br/>"I mean what I said, I do not know. I can think of no greater curse than knowing where to go in life. But for a start I will head west from this point."<br/>"There is nothing out there but the wastes."<br/>"Perhaps, but it will be a new sight, and I have already seen Razorplain more times than I care for." Pete finally managed to free the horse and mounted himself on its back. "Tell me," he continued, "you obviously know this road very well, but have you ever actually strayed from it?"<br/>"... No." Suddenly the young man realized his boredom was gone, replaced by curiosity, but also... was that... shame?<br/>"Then perhaps you should try it sometime. It is a pity that a man as young as yourself has so little sense of adventure. I would offer you companionship on my journey, if I was not so bored of you. I might pass this road again, and I hope you will not still be riding the same caravan when I do."<br/>With those words Pete Girly turned his new horse and rode into the wilderness.<br/><br/>The young man stared after him, feeling like less of a man. He left his seat and got down on both knees on the ground to pick up the silver coins Pete had dropped. There was more than a horse's worth, and the young man stopped in his efforts. He shook his head, banishing the thought, and kept on picking up the coins. Dreamily, he opened his pouch and dropped the silver in it, noticing the gold coin, beaming up at him from the inside the leather container. He had more money on him than he had ever had before, and he would have to turn it all over to the old man when he got to Razorplain, and then he would get paid a measly sum to go back on the same road once more.<br/><br/>Fourteen months ago he had been excited to see the world for the first time. For the first time since his spirit was broken he felt a desire to once more travel the world. He knew it was a foolish thought, but at that moment he would rather die young and excited, than to live his life like the old man, stuck in is caravan without ever having seen a merfolk conclave.<br/>Like Pete had done, the young man untied one of the horses. He raided the caravan for supplies and set out, down the road bak to Rez Lagoon. He would buy a sword and that would be all he needed, before he would leave for inhuman cities. Like Pete Girly he did not have a clear destination in mind, but more importantly, he did not need one.<br/><br/><br/>Pete Girly quickly picked up a destination, however temporary. He had been on his own for less than two hours, merrily admiring the untrodden landscape, but his nose was not fooled by the apparent solitude as it picked up the scent of roast meat.<br/>The smell of meat was as close as he got to the smell of adventure and Pete decided to follow his nose, tracking the scent for another while before coming across a deserted camp site, with a smouldering fireplace and with birds picking apart what had been someone's meal not long ago.<br/><br/>Pete took the time to inspect the site. They had been two people, going their separate ways, without much of a scuffle. The earth was largely undisturbed and Pete guessed they would come back. If they were friendly, then so would he be, but if they were not then he would rather meet them one on one, and he set out, picking which track to follow with a shrug of his shoulders.<br/><br/>Another smell soon replaced the roast meat, but this was more of a sharp, poignant one that was easy to follow, but not pleasant to get near.<br/>"How marvellous," he replied at the sight of a woman rubbing the foul-smelling substance on the naked torso of a merman. The women was a bit harder to classify, but the pointed ears and the few scales visible was a clear sign she was at least drakefolk, likely, Pete guessed, of elven ancestry. He was less worried about the couple than he was about the artificial wurm that lay slain and, hopefully, dead.<br/>"It is not often one sees the drakefolk dealing in medicine, least of all administering it to other races. You might want to be careful, as it does not smell quite healthy and the merfolk are more susceptible to side effects than us more sturdy races."<br/>Pete smiled at them. Or rather, he had been smiling from before he started talking. He looked at the slain construct.<br/>"Still, if you fought that," and he pointed with his sword, "and got away with a scratch on the shoulder, then you can't ask the gods - or the dragons - for better luck."<br/>Since neither had attacked him yet Pete dismounted and continued his introduction.<br/>"My name is Pete Girly and I have not fought anything for five days, so I have a surplus of energy. If you need a horse for your wounded merman then I have one to offer."