The Old Man
The old man, stooped with age and with a scarred face, looked up at you and says: “I-I-I see ye got ta glowy daggeer in yer poket,” a grin split the old man’s face, revealing yellowed teeth. “The Elder Gods shall be pleased with yer.” With that he snatched the dagger and ran at a remarkable speed. You scratch your head in confusion. Have you been tricked?
That night an eerie fog lay over the city of Grendal that night and you here a knock on the door. You open it… CREAK You wince because of the hinges. You look out and see the Old man, but he looks younger. He lunges at you brandishing the dagger. “Ther Old Gods wan’ Blood!” You draw your rapier and skewer the wretched Old man. “The Gods… The Gods… I-I-I failed ’em… ARRGH!!!!” He pulled himself off of your blade and slashes at you with no thought. His eyes held a vacant expression.
As you and the old man danced about the room, kicking up blood with every step. Then the Old Man slipped on one of the puddles, and crashed down onto the floor. He let out a mangled scream as he attempted to stand. You quickly beheaded the man and left the room.
The next day you walked along the pier, whistling a low yet melodical tune, then you saw him. The Old Man begging on the side of the pier, yet he looked twenty years younger with less scars and his teeth were relatively white. He looked at you, his eye going red, he grinned.