The want to be accepted is universal for all creation; Mankind as a species has always sought to be accepted by its' peers. For some, this want is fulfilled by overcoming their past; for others to be simply accepted for it. It is for a select few, however, that the want to even be near another human being is all but non-existant. For these wandering souls, the cry for human companionship is just a whisper; the feel of another's touch just a distant memory.
The waves broke briskly against the hull as a small crab clung to the barnicles to prvent being carried away. The captain of Soaring Eagle should have been pleased with the weather conditions on this day, the sky was clear, the wind was more than favorable. But today Captain Harden was uneasy about the upcoming voyage, for his cargo was most unusual and most unpleasant.
"Captain, we've lost two more, John and Valin didn't come back from breakfast." The voice was a loud whisper in the his ear, but he did not flinch by the sound. Captain Harden continued to stare off into the horizon anxiously.
"Sir, if we lose any more men, we won't be able to sail!" the voice said again, "Perhaps we should tell him to find another ship..."
"No!" the Captain interrupted in a whisper, turning to face his first mate, "he's willing to pay us 500 gold pieces, we can't pass this up!"
"The men don't care for him, Sir,"
"I don't care much for him either, Trib, but his money is good."
"Well, I suppose things around here won't be getting any better if we stick around," the first mate sighed uneasily.
"With King Garren on the throne, no one will be safe around here for much longer. That war mongering tyrant will be the death of us all."
"Ikros is going to Megablocks, isn't it Sir?"
"Aye," Harden replied with a nod, turning back to face the sea, his eyes narrowing into a squint. Taking in a deep breath of the fresh, salty air, he closed his eyes and imagined his future with the payment he was about to collect. He could finally sell this leaky boat, pay his debts, and find a good wife to settle down with. This should be a easy trip, he thought, clear day, clear sailing. The time of year was perfect for such a voyage.
But Captain Harden's thoughts were interrupted by a new figure stepping foot on his boat. It wasn't so much the sound of the footfalls onto the deck that alerted him as much as it was the smell.
The cloaked figure was tattered and dirty, reaking of odors that had no business mingling together. His ancient cloak engulfed him entirely, and only his face could be seen through the hood. His face seemed to be always hidden in shadow, only the flicker of sunlight off the water gave any hint to the presence of the man's eyes.
"Ahh, Mr... what did you say your name was again?" Captain Harden asked uneasily.
"I didn't." The man's voice was harsh and aged, cold and emotionless like a battle hardened warrior. The stare he gave the First Mate sent the man running off to elsewhere on the ship looking for work to do.
"Yes, of course," Harden replied.
"Here's half your payment," The figure spoke slowly, dropping a large leather purse on the deck at his feet. His hand never appeared from under his cloak, it just seemed to drop out from under it.
"We'll make way as soon as you are ready, I can have my men pick up your cargo immediately" The Captain nodded, motioning to one of his crewmen to collect the bag of payment.
"I'm ready." The figure began walking to the bow of the ship quickly. A dark air seemed to follow him wherever he went, a sense of dread that filled anyone who would look upon him.
"Ready the ship!" Captain Harden called out, climbing up to the forecastle, barking orders which grew more and more slient as the figure walked further away to the edge of the railing at the bow.
He could no longer stay in Ikros, his once beloved home of long ago. There would not be a single soul in the entire kingdom who would miss him, or even mark his absence. He had become nothing more than a wanderer; a face that you would only walk by and forget just a quickly.
Beggar, thief, killer, he had been called many things, but none of it mattered anymore. His quest was far from over, and he would not rest until he saw it through.
The sails of the Soaring Eagle billowed quickly as they were unfurled into the wind. The large ship creeked forward slowly, gaining speed as it left the port. The sun shined down brightly, but it did not warm him any. Standing close to the railing the man stood, staring out into the horizon before him.
He was unsure of what he would find there, but he knew that for what he was searching lay far in the west.
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It kind of reminded me of the shanara series with jerle ohmsford... Nice fig too... I was thinking there must be something that can be done with those HP phantoms. This has to be one of the best uses. 
