I – The Hunted Man
Rufio hadn't really known what to do. He'd taken his things and set out. He'd walked in a kind of a daze. It had rained heavily, limiting visibility, adding to the surreality of the situation. Eventually he'd stumbled on an inn.
He paid for a room. He spent most of the time in the room. He didn't really do anything. He paced, twiddled this thumbs. He waited for something to happen. He came out of the room to use the privy, and to eat. When hungry, he would buy some bread from the innkeeper. Then he'd sit in a secluded corner and slowly eat the bread. But then a patrolling Imperial legionnaire started to make daily stops at the inn and Rufio decided to buy a whole bunch of bread, take it to his room, and not leave.
Time passed. Rufio didn't really keep track of time anymore. One day flowed into the next, nothing happening. One day he risked going upstairs and talking to the innkeeper. To Rufio's relief the legionnaire wasn't there. He asked the innkeeper what day it was. When he got his answer Rufio went back to his room.
Rufio worked out it had been two months. Nothing had happened. Maybe things were working out for the better. Tomorrow he'd leave, go to Bravil. No, no. Not there. Too close. To Leyawiin, at least. Maybe over the border. Yes, that seemed like a good idea. Realizing he was tired, Rufio went to sleep. For the first time in months his sleep was undisturbed.
Rufio never heard his killer. He died peacefully in his sleep.
***
A/N: OK, welcome to my Portraits: Victims -series. The central idea of this is to provide short, hopefully artistic snapshots, vignettes if you will, of the victims of the Dark Brotherhood quest line. In this spirit, they aren't very long, so be kind and desist from leaving "yeah, nice but too short" reviews out. Everything else is fair game, really. The idea here is to provide short bits of text, as opposed to long and elaborate retellings of the situation. For reference, compare a haiku and a much lengthier poem. Think of this as a collection of haikus, except they aren't