It was past midnight when Eckhart finally entered the town of Southpine. It had been about a week since he'd stopped at a town, so he was exited to sleep on a soft bed for a change. "Hopefully there's an inn with vacancies" Eckhart thought sleepily. "It would suck if I got here just to find they were all full."
Walking towards what he thought was the center of town, Eckhart smelled something odd. "Is that... ozone?" Now feeling more curious than tired, Eckhart turned onto a side street in hopes of locating where the smell was coming from. Ten steps down the road he stepped in something wet and almost slipped. This was unusual, as it hadn't rained in nearly two weeks. Eckhart reached down to touch what he had stepped in, and was immediately glad that he did. Eckhart had helped enough injured people to know what blood felt like, and this blood was still fairly lukewarm. Whoever the blood belonged to was likely still nearby. From how greasy the blood felt when Eckhart rubbed it in between his fingers, it was most likely mixed in with pus. "That's not good, the wound is probably infected. I should find this guy, I might be able to help them." Walking further down the road, Eckhart heart a very feint, garbled squeaking sound. Pausing for half a second, he slowly looked around.
And that's when he saw ...it. A large figure who appeared to be wearing a cloak was hunched over in a small walkway, backed turned to him. Eckhart could not understand why, but he began to break into a cold sweat. "Sweet Ansgar, what is that thing?" Eckhart began hyperventilating. Why was he getting so freaked out by this? Trying as hard as he could to pull himself together, he nervously called out to the man. "Um, sir? Are you hurt?"
