Excerpt: Nanomage

An unusual calm overtook Clad, and he peered at the monster once more through the hole. Nothing could be seen, the hole was completely covered. Reversing his grip on his simple knife, Clad slid back the bolts and opened the door.
The beast fell at his feet, the rough hem of it's cloak pulling Clad's knife from his hand to clatter to the floor. Clad fell back with a cry, his foot caught under the weight of the creature. It's pointed wizard hat fell to one side and by the glow of the dying fire Clad realized that he was looking at an old man rather than the stuff of nightmares.
The man had three arrows pointing straight up from his back, each one at a different depth and from a slightly different angle. All three had blood red fletching.
“Water” the old man groaned “water for life”. As he spoke, a thin trickle of blood crept from the corner of his mouth and fell to the floor.
Clad stepped over the collapsed man and out into the night. Running recklessly, he stopped at the well and pulled the full bucket up, hand over hand. The clouds covered the moon as he sped back to the hut. Tripping over a swollen root, he fell sprawling, throwing the bucket down the path with a clatter. He scrambled to the bucket and ran back to the well in a panic. Panting he tossed the bucket into the well after tying a stout knot. He pulled it up full of water and staggered more carefully back to the hut.
He pulled the man into the room completely and bolted the door. Then he lit a months worth of candles and placed them on the hearth. A few logs from the pile started the fire to smoke and then burn freely. Clad knelt by the man and gently rolled him to his side. He cradled the man's head and raised the bucket to his lips. With an unnatural eagerness the man began to drink. Clad could only stare as the entire bucket was drained.
“More” the old man croaked. “another bucket”.
Clad lowered his head gently and went back out into the night. Blinded by the glow from the fire, Clad tripped again on the very same root. He rose again, cursing softly and picked a more careful path to the well. Sore and shivering from the stress and the cold, he lumbered again towards the doorway, now glowing with the light from the reborn fire.
The man was sitting up on Clad's low stool, his back to the fire. Two arrows lay on the dirt floor before him. The third he held in his hands, closely examining the fletching and point. He looked up as Clad entered. “Blessing on you, I could use a drink” he said.
Clad had only fainted once before in his life. The night that his parents sat him down as a child and explained that they were both leaving to fight for his life, and the life of all in the world. That night, as tonight, he simply slid to the floor and the world faded away.
The old man watched Clad fall with a grimace, then took a long pull from the bucket. Resting it on the simple table, the man pulled Clad fully into the hut and then bolted the door closed on the approaching dawn outside.