Levi Haag's Blog

Customer Name: Heather *********

Device: Tablet

Topic: Photos

Date: April 7 2015

Customer called with questions about camera on tablet, and photo storage. Addressed questions and sent customer related help topics.

Issue Resolved

Andrew *****- Tier 1 Phone Support- USA

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Customer Name: Heather *********

Device: Tablet

Topic: Photos

Date: April 10 2015

Customer called in regards to photo storage. Customer noted that not all photos were being stored correctly. Asked customer to restart device, then reset settings, and issue seemed not to occur afterward.

Issue Resolved

Samantha *****- Tier 1 Phone Support- USA

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Customer Name: Heather *********

Device: Tablet

Topic: Photos

Date: April 14 2015

Customer states that issue has returned after last phone call, and needs help resolving same issue. Spoke for several minutes in regards to the nature of the issue, and was able to find out the following information.

Customer received device as a gift, and was set up already.

Customer can take photos, however occasionally the photos will be replaced by another image.

Issue seems to happen intermittently and inconsistently.

Read through prior notes and asked customer to back up any important information to a computer and perform an erase all content and settings. Customer was not near computer and asked to set up call back. Gave customer my extension, and set up call back.

Issue unresolved, scheduled call back

Erica ******- Tier 2 Phone Support- USA

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Customer Name: Heather *********

Device: Tablet

Topic: Photos

Date: April 15 2015

Called customer at time discussed and customer did not pick up, however customer did call using my provided extension later. Customer stated that she was able to back up all important information to her and I walked her through the steps to erase all settings and content.

Customer was adamant that I stay on the line for several minutes to ensure that the issue was resolved. The customer seemed paranoid that the issue would return and her photos would be replaced again. I was able to explain to the customer that erasing all the content of the device would remove everything but the basic operating system and critical information. After the device turned on the customer took several new photos and they seemed to work fine. The customer still was concerned and asked if she could call back if it happened again. I gave the customer my email address and phone extension again and ensured her that the issue would be resolved.

Issue resolved

Erica ******- Tier 2 Phone Support- USA

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Customer Name: Heather *********

Device: Tablet

Topic: Photos

Date: April 16 2015

Customer Heather had called and left several voice messages, asking that I call her back. I called the customer and she informed me that once again the photos were missing and had been replaced by the same photo as before. Customer was very upset and wanted an explanation regarding what was happening, if it were possible that someone had “hacked” her tablet. I asked the customer if she were using the built in cloud based back up and she said she had never turned it on. I consulted our help desk and there were no related issues. After talking to the customer for several more minutes we decided to book her an appointment for a retail location to see if they could help resolve problem. Called the store closest to the customer and was able to book an appointment for next day. Once again provided customer with my information and asked that she call back if needed.

Issue unresolved- scheduled appointment for retail location

Erica ******- Tier 2 Phone Support- USA

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Customer Name: Heather *********

Device: Tablet

Topic: Photos

Date: April 17 2015

Customer came into the store with an appointment booked by phone support. Customer was visibly shaken and wanted to ensure that I understood the problem. We read through all the prior notes together, and found that some information had not been recorded completely. Customer explained that since first using the tablet it will intermittently delete her photos and replace them with one photo, not every photo will be deleted, but any that are will appear as blank space, and when tapped on will only bring up a blank white photo, but some of the time rather than a blank white photo a black and white photo of a child will appear in its place. Customer showed me and I was able to observe the issue. The photo will be blank, but intermittently after loading a new photo will appear. The photo seems to be a scanned in and not originally digital. Since the last phone technician erased the content of the phone, but the issue persisted this photo might have found it’s way into the base operating system, and the phone needs to be restored to factory settings. Customer seemed hesitant, but was willing to try. I used a known good restore from a store computer and waited with customer until process was complete.

Customer opted to wait in the store for several minutes afterward, but because of the store hours asked customer to return another day if issue came back. Booked the customer another appointment for the 19th.

Kevin  ******- Retail Support- USA

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Customer Name: Heather *********

Device: Tablet

Topic: Photos

Date: April 18 2015

Customer called me after Retail appointment to tell me that issue had returned. Customer was in tears and asked what the next step would be. I partnered with my manager and we have decided to offer customer a replacement since issue cannot be resolved, since customer has an appointment at retail store she opted to take care of problem there, I partnered with a manager from the retail location Christy ********* and she assured us that there would be a new device ready at the appointment time.

I also am escalating this issue to engineering to try to determine the nature of this issue. I asked customer to send me a copy of the photo so I could attach it to my notes and the file could be examined.

Attachment.png

Erica ******- Tier 2 Phone Support- USA

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Customer Name: Heather *********

Date: April 19 2015

**Incident notes**

Customer came in and was given a replacement tablet that had been set aside for her. She spent several minutes using the device and I asked that she call me over if needed. The customer stayed in the store and used the device for several hours, before ultimately collapsing in tears, screaming and throwing the new tablet across the room. Customer yelled over and over “its back” before security arrived and she was escorted out. We collected her belongings including her tablet and gave them to security.

Christy *********** -Manager Retail- USA

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Customer Name: Heather *********

Device: Tablet

Topic: T̡̝̜̟͓̘̥̼̭̝ͅͅͅa̺̞̯̗͇̣̪̘̼͙͓̤̜b̡̨͎̪̦̱̦̜̻̙̹͔͜l̡̙̫̱̝̬̭̼̪̬͈͜ḛ̰̫͍̱̭̘͔̠̞̣ͅt̡̧̙̫̲̞͓̦̥͈̱̰̥

Date: April 17 2015

Customer called several times and left many voice messages to call her back. I attempted to call the number that was listed, but there was no answer. I believe however that the photo that the customer has provided is corrupted in some way. Since loading the image on my computer my own notes will intermittently not work and I have had trouble sending attachments, with similar i͖s̱͉͍̱̝͇͎ͧ̍̈́̂ͫs͛ͣŭ̲͓̮̎͌e̪s̤͙̺͚̣̾̍͗ͮ̏ to the customer. After sending the photo to engineering they ạ̢̹̘̫̟̖̝s̡̯ke͇̦͈d̰̤͙ that I not send the photo to anyone else because they are w̖ò̘r҉̘̝͎ͅr͚̤̫̦̳̦̭i̻͚̫̼͉̥eḑ̝̙ it may corrupt other devices. I have deleted the photo from my previous notes and it should no longer be attached in future notes. If customer calls, please express my heartfelt apology for not getting back to her sooner.

Erica ******- Tier 2 Phone Support- USA

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Customer Name: David *********

Device: Tablet

Topic: Registration

Date: May 2 2015

Customer states that they received iPad as gift and would like to register as the owner. Customer also has questions about photos and how to erase library. Sent customer relevant help articles and assisted in registration.

Issue r̘̮̳͚̣e͙͍͓̯s̘̺̠ól͉̰̣̫v̜̭͞e̱̹͟d͇̬̠̻̤

Greg *****- Tier 1 Phone s̺̟̩̣̻̝͓̄͜u̶̝̲̪̓̆p̲̻̰̫̞̂p͖̥̘̗͇͆ͤͯͤo̯̼͌r̲̩̫̼̙̓͆̾͟t̙̼̮͙̖̉̍̾̉͜- USA

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The smooth rock shore sloped gently towards the water, but with no sand or waves it was nearly impossible to see where the rock ended and the water began. The water was dark and smooth as glass, as smooth as the rock floor of the cave, and smoother than any glass a man could ever make. The black stretched out into the abyss further than the flame of his torch could illuminate, and Kami tossed a rock he was carrying a few feet in front of him. The gentle ripple of the water always put his mind at ease slightly, the reassurance that the same rules applied to the water here as they did above the ground. He placed his pack onto the rock floor, and pushed his raft forward. There was no word or expression to say how dark it was in the cave, it wasn’t just dark for lack of brightness, but it was as if the cave was extinguishing light. Torches that could illuminate an entire hut on a dark night could barely light the ground in front of you, and even great bonfires seemed more like piles of embers down here under the Earth. Kami was a fisherman when he lived under the sky, and he was a fisherman under the stone. There weren’t many like him left anymore, it was treacherous to attempt the descent fully equipped with a team, but Kami had to do it alone. Each way through the cave’s twists and turns, accents and descents, corridors and halls took him nearly half a day, and when the weather was bad or his bones would ache it could take longer. It was hard work, but it paid well.

The raft slid across the rock and the black water rippled as its surface broke. Kami held a mooring rope in one hand and pulled it back towards him. There was no tide in the water, but if it was to slip away even a few feet he might never see it again. He wrapped the rope around his waist and picked up his equipment. In his bag he had nets, a fishing pole, tools, food, and several torches. He grabbed the tallest torch from his bag and pushed it into a crack between the rocks. He shielded his eyes as he lit it and turned away. He was used to the black. His eyes were wider and his skin had grown more pale since he had started fishing in the dark. His wife would comment about how he looked more like a child than a man, and when he looked at the old men who had fished the cave their entire lives he shuddered. With his beacon lit he took a step into the darkness and pushed his raft forward across the black water.

Without the tides or waves there was no need for a proper boat down here, just something light, that was easy to fix if it were damaged and that could hold his weight plus his catches. It was oval-shaped, with just a small lip around the edge.  A long time ago when there were more men fishing in the cave these rafts were highly sought after, but now with fewer and fewer men going down into the abyss there was less of a need and less of a demand. The man who had sold Kami his raft said he was done with fishing the black water. He didn’t even bother to bring the raft back to the surface, and sold it cheaply to be done with it all the faster. It suited Kami, he had spent many years in the dark and had kept his family comfortable. The fishing itself wasn’t hard work, but it was complicated and was viewed by some as disturbing. The first time he had heard about it he nearly retched, but after all this time it was like second nature. He would attach a bit of meat to a hook and toss his line away from the boat then wait for his catch to take it. When the string would pull he would reel it towards him, but it was important not to lift the catch into the boat. What the fisherman sought were crablike creatures with soft shells and razor-sharp claws. The first people who had found them had un-creatively named them knife-claws. There were small eels and fish as well but they weren’t worth the trip through the cave. The knife-claws were highly prized, their shell was like leather but could stop any blade, and their claws were sharper than any metal, and could be used for years without dulling. They grew on the floor of the cave lake for years, starting from something that could fit in your palm, and the largest that had been found was nearly as wide as a man was tall, and had taken four fishermen working together to get to shore. The story goes that first fisherman who had pulled one of the beasts was unaware of the danger the creature possessed and attempted to pull it into his boat; he lost four fingers and his livelihood, but he wasn’t the last to make a mistake down here in the dark.

Kami rowed gently across the surface of the water, each pass of his oars leaving tiny ripples as they pushed him further into the inky black. Once he had reached a satisfactory distance from shore he pulled the oars back into his boat and waited. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, listening to the empty cave and waiting to feel when the boat had stopped. It was important to give a few moments after rowing, the noise and movement would scare away eels, and with them the knife-claws. So he waited and let his eyes adjust. Not that there was anything to see once they had adjusted, just a dull orange glow off the water and infinite darkness around him. Occasionally he might hear another fisherman, or an eel might break the surface of the water, but it was quiet most of the time. Sometimes so quiet that he could hear his own blood pumping, or the hairs on his head rubbing together. While he waited he lifted a pole from the bottom of the boat and attached some of the bait. The crabs were carnivorous, feeding on the eels and fish that grew in the cave, some suspected that they fed on each other as well, but there was no proof, just speculation. Kami swung the pole away from him like he was swatting a fly away and waited for the light sound of his bait hitting the water. He had grown skilled at casting in the dark and could tell how far he had thrown his lure just based on how long before he heard it hit the water. It was several seconds before he heard the light splash of his bait and his line stopped spinning. Satisfied at his cast he put the pole into a holder in the middle of his boat.

The darkness was calming in its own way. He was able to think about his life and explore his inner mind without any outside stimuli.  The meditation and darkness had made him a quiet man, and he found it harder to relate to people on the surface now. He thought deeply about his wife and his children, he explored every part of his mind, and gave the actual world only a passing glance of attention. There was more silence. He thought about his childhood and his father, wondering if he too had spent his time meditating on the black water. Seconds could easily become minutes, and minutes could be hours down in the darkness. His thoughts had drifted to his wife and her soft skin when he felt the world tugging him back.

The boat rocked lightly a few times before he grasped the fishing pole and tugged back. An eel might take the bait and try to swim away, they usually would fight and make a fuss, but a knife-claw was contrary. Trying to pull it to you was like trying to lift a rock.  Kami pulled the line with his finger, its tension increased and it made a deep twang as he released it. He lifted his oars and started moving back towards the light of his torch. The line on his fishing pole slowly pulled itself out, and eventually reached the point there was no more line to give. He was still a ways from shore, but with no more room to extend he would need to try to get his catch to move towards the shore. He tugged on the line again and waited, no slack was given back, and the string made a loud hum as it reverberated over the water. Kami sighed and lifted the pole from its holder. He thought about his cast and wondered just how far he had thrown it. Maybe his catch had moved away from the boat, or had he really thrown it that far? He pulled again at the line and waited. There were several seconds with nothing but darkness and tranquility before he pulled the line again. The resistance was impossibly solid. Kami wondered if he had simply gotten his line stuck in a rock, or if he had actually caught anything. He pulled on the line again as hard as he could, nearly tipping the boat into the water. The line tensed up again, but slowly the tension released, and he smiled wide. Large knife-claws could fetch a huge price if he could bring it back to the surface. He pushed the pole back into its holder and rowed back towards the blackness and his catch.

His boat slowly drifted as he lifted the oars out of the water, and Kami pulled again on the line, it was slack now that he was closer and he reeled in the excess. If you stayed on shore you could catch some of the smaller knife claws, but the smaller ones just meant more work, if two men worked as a team they could make it worth the money, but the time it took to bring the catch to shore, and clean it was too long if you were working by yourself. That meant that men would need to fish alone and further away. The farther from shore you were able to make it, the larger the knife-claws might be, but in the darkness if you got too far away you might never come back. There were stories of men that had gone too far and never found their way back to shore. Older fishermen said they could hear them sometimes on the water, that the darkness had driven them mad, and changed them. Kami had never believed the stories to be true, but they served as warning to young fishermen; stay close to shore, and avoid the temptation that waited in the darkness.

Getting a knife-claw to move closer to shore was no easy task in a boat. The common approach was to wait until the catch had forgotten it was on the line and when it moved reel it in a few feet at a time. This process took a long time but it was proven to work. Without any better ideas Kami settled into his boat and kept a hand on the line to feel when there was any movement. He had meditated for several moments before he felt the line twitch. As he lifted the pole to reel it closer and move his catch closer to shore the line pulled hard and nearly upturned the boat. It wasn’t uncommon for a catch to move away from shore, but usually they would move slowly and only fishermen who had fallen asleep or whose pole had broken wouldn’t be able to pull one once it had started to move. He took his chances, bracing himself in the boat, he pulled back hard on the pole. In the darkness he could make out the glow of the fishing pole and watched it bend under the pressure. The boat tipped until it was nearly under the water, and he was pulled deeper into the cave and further from the shore. Kami had once caught a crab that was nearly two footprints wide and it brought enough money that his family ate for a month without him needing to work. But that was several years ago, when there were more fishermen. His eyes grew wide thinking about how much money might be on the other end of his line. It had to be bigger than any he had ever caught before, and with less men pulling the knife-claws out of the water the price was going up. He let the boat drift, and waited. With a hand on the line he dreamt about what such a large catch could do for his family, he might be able to stop fishing forever, and buy a proper home for his wife. He dreamt about buying a better life for his children, that he might be able to see his own grandchildren, Kami smiled and kept dreaming.

It was another several moments before he felt the line move again, this time it was not a sudden jolt like the first had been, but a slow and stubborn pull. He pulled back on his line and tried to change the direction of the movement. At first his catch seemed willing to move with him, but a moment later it pulled just as hard away from the shore. The glow from the fire was weaker and smaller now, and the darkness was stronger. Kami thought about cutting the line but as he reached for his knife he thought again about his family, and what this could mean for them, then drifted further into the dark. Kami thought about yelling for help, but the thought of splitting the catch with someone else made him even more stubborn, if he did this, he would do it himself. The line pulled again towards the blackness and Kami closed his eyes and kept his hand on the line, waiting.

The cold air slid between the trees like a snake through the grass, sweeping the branches across the snow like fingers through sand. The hunter pulled his flannel jacket closer to his chin and shivered. The winter felt long already but it was only halfway through. Each morning the sun would barely rise before its circumference would below the horizon again. The stores of food from summer were starting to dwindle and he and his wife would need  more food if they were to make it to spring. The deep snow on the ground slowed his movement but as he gripped the barrel of his shotgun he thought of his young wife; her pink skin had grown pale since winter had started, and her once plump face was gaunt from rationing. His pace quickened.

When the sun was up  it was easier to track his prey, their paw prints glinting in the snow like transparent stars against the pure white snow, any movement could catch his attention, and finding his way back to the cabin was easy. At night however he needed to trust his ears, hope the moon would illuminate some rabbit that had strayed too far from its den, or a deer looking for the last blades of life hanging from otherwise barren trees. He would sometimes get lost too, the night would play tricks on him. Trees all looked the same, the stars would twinkle in one part of the sky, and then dash across the night never to be seen again. Even his own foot prints couldn’t be trusted. There were times that he would double back to try to find his way only to find a second pair of tracks that met up with his and merged. The first time it happened he thought he must have gone in a figure 8 and simply crossed his own path unintentionally, but as the nights went on, he found that it was harder and harder to trust what he saw at night.

The sun had been down for some time now, but he imagined it to still be before dinner. The hunter smiled and thought of his wife cooking up a rabbit stew with some of the carrots he had saved from the summer. The thoughts of her warm skin and gentle smile warmed him as he lifted his boots from the snow drift and deeper into the woods. He had tried to use traps to catch rabbits earlier in the winter, but unless he got to them before nightfall all he would find was a bloody mess of fur and bones. His new tactic was to wait till he found a rabbit or deer, and then set his bait out. It had actually worked quite well for him. Over the past few nights he had caught several rabbits, and the week past he had managed to shoot a deer as it liked the suet he had hung for bait. His wife had even asked him to stay in tonight, but he reminded her that even though they had food today, they would need more for tomorrow, and she reluctantly agreed.

The wind picked up again and the branches scratched along the icy tops of the snow drifts. He though about going back to the cabin early, trying for more food in the morning. His wife had grown fearful spending so much time alone. She told him that she could hear noises while he was out hunting, how sometimes while she was cleaning pelts for them to sell she could hear things outside the cabin, and she would want him. The hunter would show her how strong the door was, and the windows were firmly locked, so that even if a wolf felt particularly brave it would still be impossible to get in. At first this kept her calm, but as the dark came earlier, and the nights grew longer the hunter found that her poor health was not from lack of food, or cold weather, but the paranoia from being alone. Once a month the pair would bring the pelts she had cleaned into town so they could stock up on supplies and trade with other locals, but as soon as they would return home and night would fall again she would deteriorate further. The hunter thought about his beautiful wife, and started to head back towards his cabin.

In the occasional sparkle of starlight the hunter made out the fresh tracks of a deer, and quietly followed them. The wind started to blow against his face and the snow stung his skin as it melted, but he knew if he could catch this one deer he might be able to take a night and stay in, and try to relax his wife’s mind. As he walked, clouds passed in front of the moon and the stars making the inky black night even darker. He lifted his hand to his face and saw nothing. While he waited for the clouds to pass the hunter opened his ears, and concentrated. The wind pushed its way through branches around him and hissed as it slid across the snow, somewhere ahead of him he could hear the gentle cracking of ice and creak of snow as an animal walked and he knew the deer was close, he concentrated further, and pointed himself towards where the sound was coming from and waited.

As the clouds started to pass the small dots of light stabbed through the clouds and reflected off the snowy forest beautifully. Up ahead he could see the black silhouette of a buck standing among the trees. It was outside his range, but the hunter knew that so long as he kept downwind and moved slowly he would catch up to his prey soon. As he moved with the wind the buck seemed positively oblivious to his presence. The hunter moved closer and hugged towards a tree to try to steady his shot. The rifle was cold in his hand and without the tree to steady him his fingers would have shaken so badly that he might have missed, but with his target lined up he squeezed the trigger and the animal fell lifeless into the snow. The hunter laughed with satisfaction as he walked up to the animal and lifted it’s antlers. It was much larger than it had seemed, in fact he was worried that he may not be able to carry it all the way to the cabin by himself, but he knew that it was only a matter of a few minutes until the wolves found the corpse and one man and a gun might not dissuade them from attempting to take it from him. He gripped the antlers and swung the beast across his shoulders and then used his gun to steady it as he walked.

The hunter could not be happier with the night, he was already on his way home, so the walk would be short, and such a large buck would buy them food for several weeks, the antlers alone might be able to pay for a week of food. The smoke from his fireplace was drifting lazily over the treetops and the light from inside the cabin could soon be made out from between the trees. As he approached the cabin though he saw something strange. His wife was standing with the door open, looking towards the woods towards the hunters left side. As he approached he called out to greet her.

“I love to see such a beautiful woman in the night, but you’ll catch your death with the door open like that!”

His wife froze at the sound of his voice and turned towards him.

“When did you get over there?”

As he walked into the light of the cabin she stepped back startled and held her hand to her mouth.

“Oh God, did someone leave that out here?!”

The hunter threw the deer onto the ground outside his cabin and rested his hands on his thighs, taking a much-needed breath.

“What? This? No, I just shot it and came home, why would anyone kill it and leave it?”

His wife stepped away from him and gripped the door handle.

“But when did you kill it?”

The hunter stood back up and shook his head in confusion.

“Just a minute ago, I was headed home, ready to give up for the night, when I found this one. I shot it, then hefted it back to you.”

His wife started to cry and leapt back into her house. The hunter drug the buck into the cabin and closed the door behind him, the house was warm and the smell of fresh stew filled his nostrils.

“Whats all this about? Why are you upset?”

His wife looked up at him with dread and started to shake.

“I was finishing up skinning a rabbit earlier when you came back. I thought it was strange because you knocked on the door when you got here. I opened it and you told me that you were too hungry to hunt for the night, and you wanted to eat. Your eyes were dark and sullen so I went about making you a stew. You told me that you would go out after you ate and would try to hunt again later. I pleaded with you to stay in for the night, but you kept repeating that you were hungry, and that after you ate you would go out and hunt again.” I was almost done cooking the stew, and we heard a gunshot. I was scared and you immediately jumped up and ran to the door. I asked you to wait, but then you walked into the woods, that way.”

His wife held up a hand and pointed towards where the hunter had seen her looking when he had arrived.

“That’s impossible, I’ve been out hunting all evening.”

He looked at his wife and was convinced that her nerves had gotten the better of her, that she had dreamt up the whole evening as some way of coping with her fear of being alone. He reached out to hold her and calm her down when she pushed him away.

“Look if you don’t believe me, there is a puddle of muddy snow where you stood while I was cooking.”

The hunter looked across the cabin and saw a collection of mud and footprints near where his wife’s bubbling pot was cooling.

His wife started to cry and scream as the fear started to set in on his own face, and he turned back towards the door. The hunter lifted his gun from the floor and loaded a shot  into the barrel. His wife whimpered as he opened the door and looked down.

As sure as the cold there was a set of his own boot tracks that led towards the forest where his wife had told him he had gone. The hunter held up his hand and motioned for his wife to stay quiet.

The snow creaked and cracked under his boots as he followed his own footprints towards the tree-line. Even the wind seemed to have stopped leaving only the dry, monotonous sounds of the hunter’s footsteps to carry off into the night. As he reached the edge of the forest his foot prints stopped, and the only trail he could find was deer tracks that ran juxtaposed to his own. The hunter waited for a few seconds to listen to the night, but could hear nothing but his wife’s quiet whimpering. He stood for a moment more and closed his eyes. His wife had stopped crying when he finally turned around, and when he made it back into the cabin she had stepped away from the door and was standing near the stew.

“I don’t know what that was, but I won’t be going back out tonight. Tomorrow we’ll head to town and get you a gun as well.”

The hunter took off his jacket and kicked off his boots.

“The buck should help us pay for anything we need, and hopefully I can stay in more.”

His wife ladled some of the stew into a bowl and blew gently on it before sipping on the edge of it. She turned to him and her eyes were dark and sullen.

“It’s fine, we can take care of it tomorrow, but let’s eat, I’m starving.”

The old man tugged on the string and the neon red light buzzed and faded away. He looked out the window and across the street that was tinted yellow by the street lamps, the night was cold, and dark. there was no one outside to see him closing up. No one inside to keep him from closing up. He turned and looked around the room. It’s dimly lit tables were already cleaned, and their chairs tucked nicely beneath them. It was a slower night. Not a bad one by his estimates, but slow enough that he was able to keep the tables clean before closing time. He walked back to the bar and picked up some small pieces of trash along the way. It was winter, and a weekday, this was the slow time. Things would pick up again soon, but for now he could take his time and enjoy his customers.

He walked behind the bar and pulled a rag from the sink, tossing it onto the wood. The rag made a satisfying slap as the water spread out underneath it. The old man rubbed the cloth across the bar, moving with the grain of the wood and admiring the patterns and imperfections that he had loved for so long. Once he had wiped it clean he found a dry cloth and wiped up all the water. He moved his head from side to side as he cleaned, looking for any wet spots or streaking, and once he was satisfied that the job was done he smiled and pulled a stool up to the sink behind the bar.

The bartender looked down at the sink and smiled, he remembered when the sink was installed. It used to be a terrible white sink that leaked when it was full, he was proud of the new one, and showed it to anyone who would take the time to look. It felt so silly now, to be proud of a sink, but as the cold metal filled with soap bubbles and water he felt that same pride swell again. He looked across the room and tried to find any stray glasses before he sat down. There was one on a window sill that someone had forgotten, so he brought it back to the group he had assembled, and dumped them all into the sink. He tossed a few clean rags over his shoulder and turned the knob for the water off. His old wrinkled hands reached down into the sink and felt blindly through the water and bubbles. When he felt the first cold glass edge he smiled and pulled it out gently. He looked through the clear glass and started to wipe it with a rag.

Each of the glasses told a story to him. The lips that had kissed their edges still told their tales, and weaved their yarn. The glasses were all raconteurs, bards, and authors. They told him the stories of the man who had run away from his wedding only to find an old friend who convinced him to go back to the woman who loved him. They reminded him of the priest who had lost his faith only to find it again at the bottom of a bottle and top of a morning. They recounted the woman who wanted to kill herself to be rid of her loneliness, only to find a man who was willing to just listen to her talk all night. They reminisced about friends who had long since passed, and mourned the ones who deserved it. They showed him the mistakes he had made, and how old he had grown.

The old man stacked the last glass on his bar and reached through the water to pull the stopper from the drain. The warm water soothed his aching joints, and relaxed his muscles. He could put the glasses away tomorrow he decided, and stood up to leave. As he stood the door opened and a figure walked in. He glanced up, but all he could see was their silhouette against the yellow streetlights.

“Sorry, I meant to lock the door. I’m closed up for the night.”

They stepped forward into the light from the room and smiled. The old man crossed his arms across his chest and grinned from ear to ear.

“I was just thinking about you.”

Gondar followed the trail of paint and wolf footprints silently. There was no telling what was happening now, the Lycan could be dead already or worse Mirana could have gotten away. Their trail turned into the forest and the Bounty hunter readied his knife. The brush was thick here and until he was sure of the situation he knew better than to let his guard down. Up ahead there was a loud snap, and a low growl. Gondar could see Banehallow’s two wolves fighting over a large bone, and leaning against a tree nearby was the lycan himself.

“I’m glad you caught her.”

The bounty hunter walked up to the body of the priestess and removed her crown.

“I nearly expected to find you here, and her gone by the time I got back.”

Lycan shifted off the tree and walked towards his wolves.

“What attacked Night Stalker?”

The bounty hunter opened his bag and tossed the crown into it.

“He used to be a rival, now he’s a dead rival.”

Lycan grinned wide, his dagger like teeth glowing in the moon light.

“No one stays dead for long though, not anymore.”

Gondar tied his bag closed and put it back over his shoulders.

“No I suppose you’re right.”

Lycan’s wolves dropped the nightsaber bone and walked to his side.

“Where will you go now?”

Gondar smiled and slid his knife into its sheath.

“I’ll go and collect my gold.”

The lycan started to follow him towards the edge of the thicket, his wolves following close behind.

“There is no honor in gold. You should stay and fight with me.”

The bounty hunter shook his head and stepped onto the path.

“You see killing may be enough for you, but it’s not for me. Never do something for free if there is someone who is willing to pay you for it.”

The lycan shook his head in disappointment.

“I am sorry to hear that, you fight well.”

The bounty hunter tightened his bag and made sure his blades were all secure before he started off.

“Well if you want to fight I suggest you stay here, the priestess and her warrior should be back soon, and unless my senses are off there are two wizards headed this way, you can’t take them alone, and I’m not going to fight with you.”

Banehallow lifted his claws and sniffed the air.

“I would rather die alone then run away with my tail tucked between my legs.”

The bounty hunter started to fade out of sight and laughed.

“Suit yourself wolf.”

Banehallow watched the path ahead and waited. His wolves both gripped the ground and growled.

“I say we bring the fight to them, what do you say?”

The wolves both bolted forward and the lycan followed closely behind.

“Honor is something earned, not bought.”

The bottle clinked loudly as it fell into the pile of discarded glass at the bottom of the recycling bin. The man laughed and grabbed another from the fridge and set it onto the counter. It was hard to tell what he had  for lunch that day, it had been too long since he had eaten, but he was hungry now. The bottle cap rang as it fell onto the extended stay suite floor, and he pushed around a few boxes of leftovers looking for something that would catch his interest. There was a half eaten cheeseburger, some Chinese noodles, and a whole meal’s worth of chicken wings that he had ordered and never eaten. His beer rushed past his lips and filled his mouth. The taste warmed his chest and made him smile as he wiped his beard.

He still had another two weeks till he needed to go home, two weeks till he was back with his wife and kids, two weeks until he had to grow up again. He opened the freezer and moved some cartons of ice cream out of the way. Near the bottom was a box of pizza, his mouth started to water and his tongue started to tingle.  He brushed off the frost as he placed it onto the counter and read the instructions. He lifted his bottle and turned on the stove, belching loudly as it pulled away from his mouth. A few drops had fallen onto his shirt and he rubbed his chest. Leaving the pizza on the counter he walked over to the couch and fell into the cushions.

There was never anything good on the hotel cable, it was always some terrible movie on the premium channels, a reality show about a middle america families, cooking shows, or news about a town he cared nothing about. He settled on a show about people who went through the trash trying to find treasures and decided it was the least boring thing he had seen so far. He lifted the bottle once more and looked at the rooms ceiling through the bottom of it. With a groan he stood back up and walked to the kitchen. The bottle rang out as it fell into the pile and he found himself another from the door of the fridge.  He looked at the oven again and looked for an indication of how long he needed to wait before he could put the pizza in. Satisfied that the metal box was useless at anything besides heating itself, he sat back on the couch and looked at his cell phone.

It was still early here, but back at home his wife and kids were already asleep. He missed them. He opened up the text messages and closed the phone again.

The oven beeped, and he got back up. The pizza slid out of the cardboard box and onto the hot metal rack. He set an alarm on his phone and closed the oven door. He turned to walk to the couch again but it seemed pointless. He sat on the floor and opened up his phone again and texted his wife.

“I miss you so much”

Lycan howled as he watched Night Stalkers body fall to the ground. The Bounty Hunter had seen it too and was already sprinting towards the assassin. Lycan re-focused himself, his target was ahead of him, his wolves were hungry, and he could feel his own hunger growing stronger. Banehallow laughed wickedly into the night and pushed himself even faster. The priestess wouldnt escape this time.

She was fast, but their last attack had left her wounded, and disoriented. They would have had her down already had it not been for the assassin catching Night Stalker un-aware. His wolves snapped at the cats legs with anticipation. Lycan could only keep running and wait for either his wolves to slow her down, or Mirana to make a mistake, but he had no problem chasing her as long as it took.

Mirana lifted an arm towards the sky and said a prayer to her goddess. In a flash she had disappeared entirely, and Lycan ran to where she had last stood. It was the second time she had used the trick, but she didn’t know that the bounty hunter had tagged her. Banehallow lowered himself to the ground and sniffed the orange paint that was still dripping from her. It wasn’t much, but there was a scent, and a trail. She may have gotten outside his reach, but she wasn’t free of him just yet.

Banehallow called his wolves to his side again and showed them the paint. The animals howled at one another and sprinted ahead, following the same trail that he had seen. It was leading into the trees, and Lycan knew that he had his advantage. Her cat would need to slow down in the underbrush and take its time, but he and his wolves could move quickly, they would catch her soon.

The forest was dark, from under the tree’s only a few pillars of moonlight would reach the ground. Lycan watched for signs of the paint, and sniffed the air for its scent, but it was getting hard to find it among all the other smells of the thick forest. His wolves too were having trouble and had slowed down. He looked up and tried to see if there was a sign of his prey.

They say that the priestess of the moon goddess glow in the moonlight, and Lycan had always thought it was an expression, but surely as his wolves wanted blood, there was a flash of light up ahead as Mirana passed under a shaft of moonlight. Banehallow saw his opportunity and ran towards her. As he ran his arms lowered to the ground and his back stretched and grew. His fingers turned to claws, and his mouth snapped shut on its immense teeth. He and his wolves moved so quickly that the trees seemed a blur, and it was only a moment before they caught up to the Priestess.

Lycan was the first to leap, but both his wolves were right behind him. His huge paws landed squarely on Miranas side, knocking her from the cat, and both his wolves landed on the mount itself, their momentum knocking it over, and then started their attack.

Mirana lifted her bow, but Banehallow was faster, as the arrow left her hand he leapt up, snapping it in his jaws and breaking it into two pieces. The Priestess started to back up and look for the moon. Banehallow howled loudly and jumped on her. The moon gave him power too, and he reveled in it.

Gondar was sprinting towards the Priestess when he heard the sound of a blade leaving its sheath. He had trained himself to listen for it at all times, and he knew that neither of the hunters that were helping him chase down Mirana carried swords or daggers. Without hesitation he threw his shuriken from where the sound came from. He rolled as he threw and used his momentum to leap after the weapon as it spun through the air. Night Stalker was mid way through casting a spell when he released his blade, but Gondar knew that he wouldn’t finish it.

A flash of purple smoke was all he could see, and as his shuriken disappeared into the smog he heard the familiar sound of metal ripping into flesh. The trickster faun had followed them, or at least found them, and was using their momentum against them, hoping that he could remove one of them before the other two were able to catch on. Bounty hunter leapt into the purple gas and rolled onto the ground. It was hard to breath, and just a short sniff of the ground made his head swim. He could see Night Stalker laying on the ground nearby, and could hear the familiar sound of Riki running through the fog. He just needed to stay low, and quiet for a moment before he could make another move. The moonlight started to split the smoke and Gondar camouflaged himself. Night Stalker was prostrate on the forest floor, but Gondar had no need of him now, with the smoke clear he could see the deep wound from where the trickster had cut him, but he could also see that the shuriken hadn’t hit him, and wasn’t nearby. A satisfied smile crept across Gondar’s face. His enemy was wounded, and his target was being chased down by Lycan. There was still a chance he could eat his cake and have it too.

The ground was covered in tracks from Night Stalker, Lycan and his wolves, and Mirana’s cat. But there was a mark that didn’t belong to any of them, and Gondar knew that it was Rikimaru. There was another up ahead, and a few small drops of blood. The faun had obviously tried to cover up the wound, but there was too much for him to stop it all. He would need to rest soon to clean himself, but with the danger around he would also want to find somewhere quiet. Gondar ran along his trail as silently as the wind, watching for any signs of traps or an ambush. Soon the trail stopped and he found himself standing in the middle of an open field with no indication of where the purple faun had slipped off too.

He could hear the sound of fighting back on the trail and was certain that the Lycan would be fine against Mirana, and if he wasn’t he at least would keep her busy long enough for Gondar to rid himself of the pest and get back. He stood silently and invisibly for several seconds before he heard a small groan, and blades of grass rubbing against one another. Gondar looked down and right in front of him a drop of purple blood fell from the night air and into the grass. The bounty hunter quietly lifted his knife above his head and waited. There was a shallow breath and then another trickle of blood. Here the two of them stood close enough to touch one another, but each was invisible to the other. Gondar sliced his knife through the air and landed it deep into an invisible back. He lifted the knife and watched the purple blood drip onto the body of his fallen enemy. Within a few seconds the fauns body had bled its way back into the visible world and the bounty hunter retrieved his shuriken from his enemy’s side.

“Now where was I?”

A loud howl carried over the trees and echoed in the nights air.

“Ah yes, I have a bounty to collect.”

Gondar sprinted back into the forest towards where he had come from. The field was silent now, and the dead fauns blood was pooling under him. The purple liquid getting thick with sand. The moon reflected off of it with a sickly glow, and then it, and the grass around it froze.

The gentle nights breeze carried the sweet smell of night-blooming flowers to their noses as Gondar the Bounty Hunter led them towards their quarry. The three hunters were silent, watching the ground for any signs of the orange paint that the Bounty Hunter had managed to tag the Priestess with before she escaped into the forest. The Night Stalker stayed near the back of the group, keeping his ears towards the night listening for any sound of a counter attack, or the nightsaber mount they were chasing.

Gondar pushed a few ferns out of his way and followed the trail that led through them. The three of them made no noise as they passed through the forest, leaving only a trail of wolf prints behind them. It didn’t take long for them to catch up to the wounded rider. She had found a path and was trying to rest for a moment before she continued. Without speaking the three knew what they needed to do. Lycan rushed out from the forest and headed towards Miriana with his claws raised. From behind he could hear Night Stalker’s screech to distract her, and the sound of a knife sliding through the air.

As Lycan reached the priestess she leapt onto her mount and started to ride away as fast as the cat would run. He knew that if she got away there would be no chance to catch her this time, and he looked over his shoulder to his fellow hunters for help. Night stalker was already in the middle of conjuring a spell when he looked, and knew that the priestess would be knocked off her mount, or at least left in a stupor from it. But as his head turned he caught a glimpse of something else. From behind Night Stalker there was a puff of purple smoke.

Luna watched as the man cried out in pain as his body transformed into a wolf before her eyes. The process was incredible to watch, and had she not been fighting him she would have loved nothing more than to watch him and observe the nuances between the Lycan and his real wolves. But the moment fled as one of his wolves bit deeply into her arm. A surge of blood and adrenaline rushed through her body and she threw the beast across her mount and rushed away. She had the advantage of range on her adbersary and needed to use it to her advantage. She had barely strode a few steps away before the wolves were on her again. She started to lift her glaive, but was stunned when she turned to see Lycan in his wolf form.

He was massive, nearly the size of her nightsaber, his eyes glowed with a burning fury, and his claws looked like hooked daggers. She recoiled in fear and tried to run away, but it was too late, and the wolves were too fast. Teeth and claws found their way into her arms and back, and within a moment she had fallen. Leaving only a flash of moonlight behind as her body disappeared.

Mirana was busy attempting to deal with Night Stalker, she had beaten him back and was starting to string him along like a kite, staying outside his reach but keeping the pressure on him. Banehallow and his wolves leapt from where Luna had fallen and started towards their new target. The priestess looked across the battlefield and saw the light carry her ally to the sky. Panic set in and she knew the time to flee had fallen upon her. The Priestess leapt through the air back towards the forest, and the two hunters followed. As the Priestess got to the forest’s edge she stood for a moment to look at the hunters. They were closing in fast, but the panic in her face faded to a relaxed smile, and as she faded into the night Lycan could swear he saw her wave goodbye.

The two reached the point where she had last stood a moment later and growled in anger.

“The scent is gone, she must have used a spell to get away.”

Night terror swiped his claws through a tree and Lycan howled at the moon.

“It’s too late now anyway, even if we had a scent its hard enough to run after her on clear land, nevermind chasing her nightsaber through the forest.”

Banehallow’s wolf form gave way and he stood back onto his human legs. His wolves sniffed the ground and walked towards a tree, growling as they got closer.

“My wolves are hungry, and there is something close, I can smell it too.”

He looked up into the tree and heard a branch snap. The wolves leapt, snapping at the air, and Lycan watched for any movement.

“Show yourself, before we tear down the forest to find you, and rip you limb from limb.”

Lycan turned to see if Night Stalker had seen anything and found him with a small creature holding a knife to his throat. Before he had a chance to react the creature spoke.

“Look, I want to help you, and you need me. Before you talk about what you’re going to do to me anymore, listen to what I have to say.”

Banehallow growled at the creature and waited.

“My name is Gondar, and I just so happen to be hunting that priestess, so I think if your willing to let me help, this will be beneficial to all of us. Now I’m going to let you go, and I’d like you to be reasonable.”

The knife disappeared and Night Stalker spun around, lifting his arm to strike, but catching himself before he let his anger go unchecked.

“We lost her already, how can you help that?”

The catlike creature laughed and held up a small pouch that was dripping orange paint.

“I managed to tag the priestess before she disappeared. The paint drops should lead us right to her.”

Lycan laughed and nodded.

“I like you already.”

The three of them sprinted into the forest with the Bounty Hunter leading the way.