The Morning sun was creeping over the horizon creating strange shadows across the land, the quiet sounds of animals in the fields and the permeating smell of fresh dew. The 5:00 AM morning bell sounded, and Egil could see movement along the walls of Old Millborn as he walked toward the gates of the town. It was then he could hear the creaks of the gate begin to move as it opened for daily business and traffic. Approaching the gate, he saw the two guards standing with their cloaks hanging loosely around their shoulders conversing with one another. This was good for Egil as he always attempted to move unnoticed into the town, better than the alternative. Passing by, he held up his hand in a polite nod going largely unnoticed and quietly made his way to the docks. He was soon sitting at the corner of one of the buildings, eating some berries, and observing the docks. The object of his quarry could be heard snoring from his vantage point, laying face down with his stained cloak laying chaotically over him like a black stain, his hand curled around the bottle. Egil looked left and right before moving closer to the sleeping form, kneeling down he lifted the cloak and was rewarded with a cloud of alcoholic vomit stench that wafted over him and he turned his head reaching quickly into his pouch for a pinch of herbs that he stuffed into his nostrils. Shaking him, the drunken figure moaned and rolled to his side, but continued his alcoholic slumber. Egil checked his body, looking at his fingernails they were cracked and broken, some fully missing in places, shriveled skin, and bloated face and belly. Peeling back his upper lip, he saw that several teeth were cracked, and more were missing from the black gums. Taking a deep breath, he looked up to the sky and marveled at the brilliant beauty of the Morning sun filling the sky and raked his forearm across the moisture in his eyes. "You stupid, stupid old bastard" he muttered as he realizing he was in the late stages of the drink. Grabbing a waterskin and a pouch full of Goodberries, Egil surveyed the area and no one had taken notice as of yet. He shoved the pouch into the drunk's cloak, and squirted some water onto a cloth attempting to wash some of the vomit clean and wipe some of the dirt and grime from him. He then drug the man up into a sitting position, and tucked the waterskin under his cloak, leaving an additional pouch with some silver. He knew he needed to leave, if not for his emotional state, then for his want to be unnoticed. Tears freely falling from his eyes now, he gave a hug to this vessel, the vessel that was once the man he looked up to, the man he wanted to be. Tearing himself away, he walked to the far end of the dock and knelt at the river's edge. Taking handfuls of water, he washed his face clean and steadied himself. This was his life now, and any hopes of his Father, Darvis removing the claws of alcohol were gone. The cycle, he will be taken back to the earth soon, but I say goodbye to him for the last time today.