On a barren mountain, atop a sharp incline, stood many trees. They provided shade to the many inhuman, and unholy, creatures that lubed across the top. Usually, sound would pervade across the entire mountain, along with the stench of blood and carcasses of their prey.
But today though, today it was all quiet.
Standing at the edge of the trees, stood a man. His tall silhouette spread across the entire surrounding, creating shade across the entire region. The prey, for the first time in forever, had peace.
The man stood staring at the battle that was raging at the bottom. He saw when the mindless beast raged on against the group of five. He saw how the older Goblin laid a comprehensive, yet rushed, battle plan. He saw how the younger one there tried to argue with the older one, yet failing. He saw how they fought together, trying to, yet failing, to harm their opponent fatally. He saw the final attack, that unique spin, where the young human pierced a hole through the beasts face.
He witnessed the final moments of their leader, when he burned his life to power the spell. He witnessed the desperation of the remaining survivors, when they realised they had no option left. He witnessed the young human's desperate attack, failing at the last moment.
He witnessed when the book escaped the bag, vapourising the beast in a flash of bright golden light, its final scream filled with terror.
As the battle ended, he took one step forward, before arriving in front of the book. The book, upon sensing the man, immediately attempted to go back towards him, towards his weathered hands.
Yet was denied the chance to do so.
"Go. You have already chosen a new wielder. Protect him, guide him, nurture him until the time arrives, and it's fast approaching even as we, or I, speak. You have chosen your owner, now you must journey with him until the end." Sensing the tone, the book sadly flapped its pages, before descending upon the unconscious human, drilling into his heart.
The old man looked at the fainted and heavily wounded trio, before breathing out a sigh of sorrow. Boy, don't blame me for this. I wish it did not have to happen, yet it must, for you are my only chip left. He is awake, and will be coming soon.
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Jeremiah B. Waterford was not having a great day.
No, you could be saying that it was one of the worst days in his life.
Just a couple of hours ago, everything was going fine and dandy. The adventurers were going and coming out nicely, carrying herbs and rare instances of artefacts. Merchants were happy getting their fair share of deals of the herbs and artefacts coming out from the ruins, grinning ear to ear at the thought of money earned. Jerry was happy that everything was going smoothly, with no apparent incidents occurring at the ruin, except a few rare instances of really bad luck.
Life was perfect.
Suddenly, a mass influx of adventurers started coming out, most injured heavily. He dropped of the ringwich that he was eating, rushing frantically, trying to figure out what was happening.
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Huff, huff, huff...
A masked man is running through the dark alleyways, trying his best to evade his pursuers. He thought, he hoped, he even prayed that they would not be able to find him. He believed that they would not be able to spot him if he got out with the crowd escaping from the ruin.
Oh how wrong he was.
The Dulred family immediately found out where he was, and they did not waste a fraction of a second of it. The Darksters of the family immediately hunted him down, injuring his left leg, and blowing off one of his arms. He was barely able to escape, thanks to the Talispells he managed to acquire from embezzling the family funds allocated to the young master.
Buts apparently, it was not enough.
Despite his meticulous attempts to evade them, they still managed to find him at the end. Just as he was about to be killed, a soft wind was heard, before the five Darksters that were chasing him all had their heads decapitated, flying through the air with beautiful grace.
As A109 turned his head towards his saviour, all he saw was a large, dark top hat, covering his face with his shadows, displaying all but his bright, blue eyes.
As he watched in awe, his saviour turned his head towards him, a smooth, magnetic voice calling out to him:
"Do you want to live?"