Might and Magic

"Who the fuck are you?" Michael calls. The man laughs and starts walking towards him, fighting the ankle-deep sand with each step. Michael is so surprised he doesn't know how else to respond. "I'm Gavin," the guy pants when he's pulled up to Michael, offering a hand. Michael shakes it warily. "That was bloody amazing, mate, that fight." "What are you - Why are you out here?" Michael asks, because no one trudges out to the middle of the Ruuksah for a fucking - midday stroll. "You lost?" "Could ask you the same thing," Gavin says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His scarf is tucked messily around his head and over his face, his satchel is a small, threadbare thing by his hip, and his only weapon, by the looks of it, is a dagger strapped to his thigh. Moron. "That's none of your business," Michael replies gruffly, sheathing the saber on his hip. He turns to continue his path - and hopefully leave Gavin behind. "You might need me," Gavin calls. "For that treasure you're looking for."