| He stumbled through the drifts of snow, muttering curses under his breath. "All this... for a damned goblet?" He looked up at the sky, squiting so as to not go snow-blind. At least the Daystar seemed to be setting to the east, on his left. He hoped that he was going the right way; getting lost out up in the mountains would not hold well with his employer.
He fingered the goblet again; set with precious stones and intricate carvings, the thing was easily worth a hundred times how much he was being paid; of course, the contract denied him from taking it, and he knew better than to break the contract, or any other contract, even if it was a deal with a demon. His word was the only thing he had; it was his honor. And, as a mercenary for his entire life, his honor was his life.
The man looked up again, sighing in exasperation as he marched onwards. Curiously, no steam wreathed the air...
__________________ 
"My word is my honor. My honor is my life."
-- Demonchild, Angelkin, the Blackest Seraph, the Final Warrior
"Cut down the Gods if they stand in you way."
-- Hagakure |