"There's something called the Game. Rather less fun than the name would lead you to believe." Methos sighed.

He approached the bed, arms crossed, "Immortals... we can sense each other. And some like to kill one another. To gain their Quickening. Our... life force, almost. Some might even say our very souls. When one kills another Immortal they gain that. They grow stronger. It's intoxicating, the power of it."

"I try and avoid it all together. I've worked very hard to convince the majority of other Immortals that I don't even exist. I'm the oldest, you see. The oldest living Immortal. There are many who would like the chance to kill me."