The+Ghost+of+Vendetta

**The Ghost of Vendetta**
The tale of Caspian Vangard and his unrelenting search for vengeance...

A Hit in the City of Gardens

His mug never seemed to have a deep enough bottom to it. The tavern was crawling with Crimmor's knights.

"Is this seat taken?" A man asked, not waiting for Caspian's response before sitting in the chair beside him. The Ghost raised his eyes to the new-comer and looked him over wearily. Tall as he, and build nearly the same, Caspian would have mistaken the man for military had it not been for the rugged mannor in which he kept himself. His cloak was thread-bare and his tunic covered in patch-work.

"Quite the night, isn't it? I'd say everyone in town had gathered here for the night." The man reached over and snatched Caspian's mug right out of his hands. "What are we drinking?" He took a sip and made a pleased face. "Not bad. Would have chosen the amber over the black, but..."

"And who do you think you are?" Caspian asked, settling his hand discretely onto the axe at his hip.

The man shrugged. "Just like you, I'm a man looking for a good drink." He took another sip of Caspian's ale.

Before the Ghost could react, he caught sight of the man he came here for. Another liutenent in the troop who had killed his family. A man who didn't know he was already dead.

Visions of that day wavered in front of his eyes as Caspian followed the man's every movement.

"You're not going to want to do that, lad."

"Trust me." Ghost yanked his arm out of the man's grasp. "I want to."

"Fine, suit yourself." He shrugged and continued sip at Caspian's ale.

Caspian stood from his chair and followed the three men out of the tavern, into soaking night.

"The Ghost!" he let out a fearful cry, fumbling to draw the sword at his hip.

Hn, one more down... How many more have I left to go before I can be at peace?