The board crashed down on the stone dock.  The rain had eased up, but the stone was still slick with it, covered in the slime of the sea.  I still remember the wind blowing through my hair.  The bustling of the city was a bit of a shock after months at sea with just the captain, crew, and our strange passenger.  They dressed nicely, and their beautiful housing lined the coastline in the distance.  I could see in this kind of city we weren’t getting help lifting our cargo except from our passenger.

He tried to leave the ship quickly, but I grabbed his shoulder quickly, stopping him.  “Your job’s not done yet, mate, we need you to grab a crate.”  It was at that point I noticed something odd about him.  He turned around,  his robes shifting oddly in the wind, and there was something in his eyes.  He was old and weary, but there was something angry in him.  There was a hatred burning behind the glassy stare in his eyes.  It was fleeting, but I was frozen in that gaze.  I swore at that very moment the air went cold and still.  After we unloaded, not uttering a word.

For a man so worn he did a good job with heavy lifting, but I wouldn’t want him around much longer than he was.  The captain shared my concern when I talked to him about it.  I hadn’t noticed him much on the trip, but the captain obviously had.  At the end of our trip, it seemed almost as if our stranger was a pestilence, spreading his weariness to those who come in contact with him.  We watched him disappear into the alleyways, off on his own quest.  I do not pity the men who in the future had the share company with such a creature.