The Blacksmith's wife had been very beautiful once. Just a few moments ago, she had been a young woman, slender though not skinny, with kind blue eyes and a petite, pale face framed by golden locks of hair.

Now she lay in a broken, rotten heap on the cold stone floor.

The skin was yellow and green with a visible bone protruding here and there beneath her rags. Her eyes had lost their colour and what was left of her hair had turned ashen grey.

I stood beside the blacksmith for a long while as he caught his breath and simply stared at what had once been his wife. Then, he turned away and headed back towards the entrance of the cellar. I cast one final look at the horror on the ground before following him.

"I thank you for the aid," he said in a low and husky voice, though he did not look my way. "I could not have done it on my own."

"You are very welcome," I replied and after a moment's hesitation I added, "and I am very sorry for your loss."

He only nodded at that. I felt an odd sympathetic sting in my heart for this man. Until now I had killed many of those horrors and to an extent I had felt bad for their tragic fate, but never before had I witnessed the final moments of someone before turning. I still felt sick from the experience.

But I hadn't known the victim. This had been someone's wife. Someone who had been forced to kill her with his own hands. Lesser deeds had turned men mad.

We took a turn, passing the corpses of other victims that had turned. They too had been someone's loved ones. Spouses, parents, children…

The light emitting from the cellar entrance seemed so contrasting with the scene inside. I had a sudden urge to run towards it, eager to breathe the fresh air again. Though that too was hard to find these days.

"You were asking about the mad king's crown," the blacksmith suddenly spoke, though he still did not look at me, "my grandfather was the king's chancellor at the time he went mad. He had the crown buried with him for safekeeping. I will tell you where his remains are."

I listened in a half daze. I was surprised he had even remembered why I had come to him in the first place, and even more surprised he had it in him to talk business at this moment. Though I supposed talking business was the best distraction he could find at this moment. And the Heavens knew he could use a distraction. "Thank you, you're help is much appreciated."

Again, he did not reply.

We ascended the creaky, wooden steps and were finally back into the open air. The light I had seen from the cellar had been from a single lamp above the hatch. I found myself disappointed by the lack of daylight, but now that I thought about it, I had not seen daylight since I arrived at New Tristram. The nights here were endless.

I fought a chill as I stared at the moon in the dark sky. Even the bright orb was hidden behind thick, black clouds.

"By the way," the blacksmith suddenly said, and I focused my attention at him instead of the depressing scenery above. "The name's Haedrig Eamon. I'm the town's blacksmith."

I tried to smile at him, but I had not the strength. "It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance," I said.

"Of course, I need not ask for your name," the bulky man continued, "every person in town knows about the great wizard, who has come to save us from damnation."

This time I did smile. Though his sarcasm was not lost on me, I always enjoyed being known by many, not to mention being described as a great wizard. For that I was.

"Listen, if you're going to the cemetery, would you mind keeping an eye out for my fool apprentice and tell him to get back to town?"

"Of course," I said with a nod and noticed he was finally looking me in the eye. I then turned away from him and made my way towards the northern gate. As the guards opened the barricade for me, an image lingered in my head of the most tragically sad grey eyes.


A/N: I've changed some of the conversation flow to better fit my story, though the interactions are still essentially the same.

Also, I have yet to decide if I'm going to continue this as a series or to keep it as a one-shot. I'm allergic to decision making.

Thanks for reading!