Quinlan's Decision [Bonus]

The old man turned and began walking away.

Again, Quinlan and Feng exchanged a look for the second time since meeting this eccentric geezer. Hers was questioning while his was resigning, already expecting it would go like this. 

They both fell into step behind the old man. The shack disappeared behind the trio as they descended the hill and stepped onto the dry, cracked earth of Vulkaris' outskirts. Morning wind stirred the grit along the ground, and the sky was still faintly purple with night's residue.

They walked in silence, as always, until they arrived at what could only be described as a flat plateau of scorched stone, perhaps the remnants of a battlefield or a testing ground long since abandoned.

There were no weapons. No tools. No disciples. Just the wind, the stone, and the dull grind of the old man's prosthetics as he came to a stop.

Then, he raised one hand and pointed to the stone.