Sam tightened the sack around his waist, the rough burlap chafing his already scabbed skin. He hugged himself to the grey stone wall, not looking down. Sam's fingernails scrabbled the top of the rampart, and he managed to pull himself up and over, straddling it.. The quiet city below him was eerily quiet. The sun was already beginning to rise in the east, a spash of pink on a grey world. Being cautious to keep his balance, he checked the contents of his sack. One book, his gold dubloons, and the picture of the beast, along with a chunk of somewhat stale bread. He laid back, groaning. The scabs circled his body from where he had fallen down this same barrier the day before. To enter the city a fugitive was practically impossible, and yet he had done it.
Something about his gaunt face, his ebony hair, and those green, green eyes were quite alluring. Even while his skin was in shreds from climbing all night, Sam was one of those people you can't help but notice.
The city was beginning to stir. Already some villagers had begun their daily rounds. Sam knew he was going to have to cover himself. Going through the town as he is would be like suicide, as most would guess he was running from something in the state he was in. He pulled out the cloth bound book from his bag. The pages were worn and yellowed, somewhat mildewed and were scubbed with dirt.
