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Urist didn't ride the wagons like the other guards. He walked point, leading the caravan from the most dangerous position. For most of the nights, they would circle up the wagons, start a fire, and camp. When they did, Urist would patrol the perimeter, far from the fire, deep in the darkness of the night.* The other guards make jokes about him, but the world wise merchants knew better than to taunt one with death in his heart.
Occasionally, Urist would eat, facing away from the warmth of the fire, staring into the night. On one of those occasions, a young hammerdwarf sat with him, holding a portion of salted pork and a quart of strawberry wine. For awhile, they ate in silence. Then the younger dwarf said, "So, why do you stay so isolated?"
Urist smiled grimly, "Friends die."
Silence, for a long time. Urist took another bite of his biscuit, washed it down with some milk. Another bite, and the sound of chewing.
"But everyone dies, sir. If you never get close to people, you won't have any kind of life." The young dwarf shrugged a bit, "Unless you don't want a life."
Urist sighed. "Listen boy, I've fought in the vampire wars. I watched a squad of dwarves slaughtered by a Giant Cave Spider and four cave crawlers. I've killed spawn in a six on one fight. I fought a pair of vampires from a traction bench with a scalpel. One was my best friend. And when I got out of the hospital, I learned my wife had decided I wouldn't be the same, so she left. Took our boy, went back to one of the Mountainhomes. Left me a note." Urist paused. "I had a life. It didn't want me. So now I'm looking for a good death, maybe I can balance the scales a bit. This Spearbreakers place, this sounds like exactly what I need. If I don't die there, then I'm going elsewhere. I'm walking the earth boy, I hope you never know what I mean by that." Urist lapsed into silence, and finished his biscuit.
The younger dwarf nodded. "Okay. Seems fair enough. Just so you know, I'm Sarvesh. I'll be around if you need anything." He finished his pork, and threw back the last of his wine. "See ya around...?"
Urist looked up, "Urist."
"See ya around, Urist."

Two days later, they reached the edge of the blood forest. It seemed a perfectly normal forest, until the dark clouds gathered, and let loose a mighty deluge of thick, dark blood. It stained everything, seeping into clothes and coagulating in the creases of armor. The guards remained vigilant through the forest, knowing the old stories of vicious undead monsters, necromancers, and the everpresent threat of bandits.
The travel through the forest was mostly uneventful, save for the final day. On the final day, Urist felt a familiar tingle in his beard, like that of static electricity. Without hesitation, he ran to the caravan, taking his spear from his back, bellowing a warning, "Spawn! Spawn of Holistic Detective! WARE! There be Spawn about!"
The guards reacted swiftly, drawing their arms, taking up defensive positions. The four merchants pulled the wagons up close together, and drew knives and daggers from close at hand bundles.
Everyone was poised for action, no one moved for several long minutes. Silence reigned for long minutes, and finally one guard spoke up, "I thought you said Spawn. Where are they?"
A merchant snorted grimly, "Ever heard a forest be silent? Shut your booze hole and wait. They're coming."
They waited, and waited, and finally, shapes detached from trees to either side of the road far ahead of them. The spawn had been waiting in ambush, camoflaged against the blood soaked trees. There was seven of them, and they rapidly advanced on the waiting caravaners. The guards instinctively gathered at the front, tightening into a knot around Urist. The spawn spread out a bit, in a semi-circle, letting themselves have room to swing their long arms, and room to shake a dwarf around with their maw.
The spawn slowed as they got close, creeping closer, waiting for a sign of weakness or a flinch. An opening. One dwarf stamp-faked forward, trying to draw them in, and the spawn took it. With astonishing speed, they dashed forward. Urist was face to face with a spawn, again. This one was bigger, somehow even worse. Its eyes were a dead black, like a shark's, and it had barely any hair at all left on its whole body. Urist lunged, plunging his spear deep into its chest, doing no real damage to it, but distracting it from the next guard's attack. The next guard hacked at the other side of its ribs with his axe, breaking several, and deeply injuring it. Not that a spawn would notice. It kicked Urist in the chest, sending him rolling back, spearless. He stood swiftly, and drew his trusty dagger, circling the spawn, waiting for an opening. As he did, he watched the others battling the spawn. One group opted for a vicious method, going for its limbs, cutting everything off and finally shearing it in two with axes. The young hammer dwarf got a lucky blow in on his groups' spawn, breaking ribs and jamming them through its evil heart.
The axedwarf that was fending off Urist's spawn rolled back from a slashing hand, and Urist dived forward, under the arm, and tackled the overbalanced spawn in one fluid motion. It fell back, and slid a bit across the slick grass. Urist stabbed it frantically once, then again and again. Finally, its heart shredded, it stopped kicking and fighting and living.
Urist stood, and yanked his spear from the corpse. He turned to see another spawn bearing down on him. The axedwarf dived into it from the side, axe flailing violently. A limb was sheared off, and the spawn turned on the axedwarf, grabbing him by the abdomen and squeezing. Its' vicious claws ripped through his belly, spilling his guts. He stood shocked, staring at his insides, as it pulled him close and snapped its maw shut on the exposed intestines. He shrieked, and several other dwarves barrelled into the spawn, swiftly dispatching it.
The wounded dwarf fell down, babbling and bleeding profusely.
Urist grimly marched over to him, kneeling down by his head. The dwarf had tears in his eyes, and he was saying, "Do it do it do it don't let me be one of them. Don't let me turn. Kill me please. Kill me. Finish what it started."
Urist nodded grimly, and held his dagger up high, to be interrupted by a hand gripping his wrist. "No, Urist. Let Medtob do it himself. He's got the strength yet. It'd be better that way." Urist nodded, and handed the infected dwarf his dagger. Together, with the young dwarf who'd spoken up, they lifted Medtob up into a sitting position, then standing. He held the dagger over his heart, closed his eyes, and said, "D-d-drop me before I lose my nerve." They let go of his arms, and he fell on the dagger, dying nearly instantly from the wound.
Urist turned to the young dwarf and said, "I hope one day, that I go out like that. Like a true dwarf would, in battle, or by his own hand rather than by mutation or decay or treachery. Bringing death to his enemies and life to his allies. Medtob is with the blood god now, laughing at the spawn."
The younger dwarf smiled, "I'd like to die in my sleep, or of alcohol poisoning. I guess overeating wouldn't be so bad either."
Urist smiled for the second time in a month. "I think I like your style, Sarvesh.