It befell the riders that on the last leg of their journey to the land known as Doma, they stopped near the tree-line that edged the great eastern forest to rest and eat. Kerrin set camp, started a fire, strung the cedarwood bow that was packed near Marna's haunches and went out to find dinner. A few hundred yards into the forest he spotted a pair of deer, one a doe, of average size and weight. But the other was a huge buck...with 13 points to the rack of antlers atop his head as well as The Scottsman could judge.

"What luck...gods be praised..."

The audible, very distinct, and highly awkward sound that came from behind Kerrin startled him to full alertness at which he stood and turned, dropping the bow and drawing the blade of Ojin in a quick, clean motion.

The cloaked and hooded figure standing only a few scant feet behind him watched in amazement.

"My god, he thought silently...he's as quick with a blade as I am with the guns."

Kerrin's blade fell easily and swiftly to the throat of his unknown assailant. The blade resting gently against the black, silk, covering about the masked man's head and creasing it inwards a bit at the point where the strange man's throat met his neck.

"You're even faster than the legends say Scottsman. I have to admitt that in all my years I've never seen a man with a blade-hand as quick as yours, and I don't doubt the skill to use it with unerring accuray."

Kerrin glared intently at the stranger. He was tall, Kerrin guessed perhaps 6'5'', but slender, perhaps only weighing 200 to 210 pounds. He was well-muscled however, Kerrin could tell that by the simple way the muscles in the mans arm flexed with involuntary motor reaction to having cold steel lain against that most vulnerable of places.

"Lets dispense with the formalities my cloaked friend. You have 10 seconds to tell me who you are, why you followed me, and just why I shouldn't take your head where you stand."

"Lets just say Kerrin, that if you kill me...your life will become a most uninteresting place...", snickered the man in black, gently pushing the sword away with the slender tip of an index finger. Kerrin noted the strange platinum ring that rested there. It was a design of two intertwining dragons, encircling a strange smooth, jet-black onyx stone.

"The signet ring of the house of Kaldone my ancient friend."

"I could care less if it came from god himself, now tell me who you are."

"...And just as stern as the legends say to..."

Kerrin groped for something to say...what were these legends the man kept speaking of. Of course, many knew of Kerrin and his gift/curse of immortality. But in all of his 2368 years, he could never remember having met this man.

The man hooded in black stepped back quickly, criss-crossing his hands, and letting them fall with deadly swiftness to his hips. Like a cat in motion, he produced two objects, spun them around once then, back down, and let the pommels of the weapons come to rest in the caress of his palms...those oh so slender, milky-white hands, with the long fingers and elegant structure. As the mans hands came to rest, strange weapons in tow, his hood fell back revealing his features. Indeed he looked noble, with his deep smoke-grey eyes, pale-marble skin, and raven-black hair, which was cropped closely to his head. He wore a thin silver chain about his neck, which matched the motiff on the ring. He was striking, his features were slender, with tall cheekbones, a pronounced chin-line, and his nose set squarely in the middle of his face. His forehead was high, and he had a couple of days worth of stubble on his face but Kerrin couldn't fault the man for that.

"You see Scottsman, as quick as you are with the blade, I am just as quick with my tools."

Kerrin was astonished, still holding a firm grasp on the black, onyx, pommeled blade of Ojin, which he realized had become quite warm in the palm of his hand.

"And what praytell type of weapons are those anyway...friend...?" ,quipped Kerrin. The obvious distaste in his voice showing through. Kerrin believed in the blade, he lived by it, and he knew that sometimes he could unconsciously spurn anything without an edge as keen as a razor. But he was also intelligent, and two millenia of war had taught him to never underestimate the "carpenter" or his "tools".

"In my land we call them guns Scottsman. These were my fathers, and his fathers before him, and so on and so on."

"And just what do they do?"

"Well, they "shoot"."

"Like a bow I suppose?"

"Yes, something like that, save that the arrows are called shells, and when they strike an object they explode, and rip outwards."

Kerrin curled his lips back in revulsion. The blade was quick and clean, unlike these hideous monstrosities, which "ripped" and "tore" as the strange man so proudly proclaimed.

The man in black did the strange twirling action and replaced the weapons in the "scabbards" at his side, which he called holsters.

"However, there is more pressing business than this Scottsman."

"I still don't know your name..."

"You may call me Daric...Daric of Kaldone, more specifically of the House of Kaldone."

"And where is this house of Kaldone? I've never heard of this place in all my travels."

"That is because your travels have only just begun my friend. Your destiny plays a role in all things my friend. If we had time I would explain, but we don't. Someday though, we will sit and converse at length, as to just what a large role you play in the scheme of this little corner of the universe."

"You speak of strange things Daric of Kaldone, things which I neither care for, nor do I understand. So, if you please I must return to my companions...we have a long journey ahead of us, and wars yet to be fought."

"And that is why I am here.", spoke the "Man of Shadow."

Kerrin looked dumbfounded, such a strange turn of events surely could only be from the gods...wherever they might be lurking at the moment.

"I've come because I had no choice Kerrin. The cosmos has fated this, and I've come to lend my hands...and my guns if need be."

"I don't know what your motives are stranger, but they can't be of an honorable nature...no warrior-born would use such vile, and blatantly destructive weapons as you possess."

"Where I come from Kerrin, these weapons are the pinnacle of elegance, much as the blade of Ojin hanging at your side is in this world of Yvalice."

The man stepped back, his ebony colored shirt billowing in the wind. He dropped his cloak to the ground, reached for a rock about the size of Kerrin's fist and tossed it into the air. Elegantly, his hands performed the instinctual motion, crossing, and falling to his hips...he crouched, spun the "guns" once, pulled back the strange levers at the back of each weapon and fired.

Kerrin responded by ducking quickly and covering his head. 6 extremely loud shots rang out, and as the man, Daric of Kaldone, completed the motion the rock fell to the earth. Kerrin looked up astonished.

"Go on Scottsman, pick up the stone..."

Kerrin looked towards the elegant stranger and walked over to where the tiny rock lay. Picking it up in his hand he turned it over and over...the man had shot the stone into what appeared to be a 5 pointed star.

"And there you have it Scottsman, my show of skill...is it enough to persuade you to accept my company?"

Kerrin turned and glared.

"I know not what evil spurned you Daric of Kaldone, and I don't take well to braggards, but your skill is obviously true and perhaps I have doubted you. But listen to my warning...you are in my company so long as you fill a role, I will learn more about you as we go I'm certain...and then I will decide whether to place my trust with you or not. Until that point, do not give me a reason to draw my blade against you, for I most certainly will. And I can assure you that once the blade of Ojin is awakened from its slumber at my side, not even your precious "guns" will save your head."

"Spoken like the warrior you are. Now, we must leave this place. Even as we speak, a small patrol from Baron approaches, and I fear we are no match for 40 armed men, at least not in this defenseless place at any length."

"You have an observant eye Daric of Kaldone..."

"When your destiny is as hazy as mine Kerrin...you have to be able to see things most men don't."

Kerrin placed the 5 pointed, granite, star in the satchel, when he realized the deer had escaped and he would have to return to camp empty-handed.

"Damn...", he spat at the ground in disgust.

"The others will be starved by the time I return."

Daric straightened a few things in his pack and pointed just over the top of Kerrin's right shoulder.

"Do I have to take care of everything for you Scottsman?", he laughed and turned to walk back towards the makeshift encampment.

Kerrin turned glancing towards the area where Daric had pointed earlier. Lying on the ground near the rocks to his right was the huge buck he had spotted what seemed like an eternity ago lying dead, and waiting to be spitted, roasted, and eaten.

Daric turned to face him as he grabbed his bow, and Kerrin looked at him with a queer face.

"I heard and saw only 6 "shells" leave your weapon..."

"I'm just that fast Kerrin...I'm just that fast...", he said with a grin and turned away from the Scottsman.

Then and there Kerrin made a solemn promise...he would never turn his back on this man, for any reason. When you were dealing with a man as obviously deadly as Daric...that was only an invitation....