Fire. It‘s bright shimmering flame scurried around in haste, as Wail’s playful eyes followed it around. Lips frozen in a crooked smile. He never considered himself a pyromaniac, but the little rabbit - fleeing for its life, desperately trying to put out the burning fur, did serve as quite an amusing sight.

The show lasted for hardly a minute, but it might as well have been an hour, so consumed by the spectacle Wail felt. Unsatisfied with its end, he simply gazed towards the next innocent creature his sight managed to catch and slowly lifted a right hand. Soon, an anxious little fireball was conjured – moving around in one place, unable to stay put for even one second.

Wail, as a responsible master did not leave this creation to its suffering and threw it at a nearby fox that tried to escape this crazed individual. Fueled by its insatiable hunger, the fireball quickly caught up with the little creature and engulfed it in flames, inflicting torture with its unbearable touch.

This time though, Wail did not stand mesmerized by the light-show. Instead, he slowly walked towards the spot where his previous victim died. Only ash and scorched ground remaining - where once a living creature stood.

Amongst the ash and bone, a few copper coins were visible. The torturer picked them up with deft hands and calmly looked around the field soon after. With scorch marks here and there, the plains seemed quite barren. A few little creatures, yet not a single individual. No wonder, having in mind what kind of person occupied them.

Wail. An unpleasant existence be it in action or appearance. He wasn’t particularly tall, nor was he short. Unwashed and unmanaged hair covered most of his scalp, with a few barely visible marks of encroaching baldness. A sparse fuzz covered his jaw, dark bags under his eyes. By the looks of it, his bodily structure wouldn’t impress anyone either, but it was wickedly covered by ragged grey robes, that were in desperate need of fixing up.

No wonder he was alone in an empty field. Who’d want to spend their time with a guy, who enjoys torturing cute little creatures, while looking like that? No one, that’s who. Thus here he was. Alone. With fire at his disposal and wildlife conveniently scurrying around him. Who could blame his choice in fun? Quite a few. But who cares what they think anyway?

At one point another self-proclaimed adventurer found his way in the same open field. But after witnessing Wail at work, he decided to apply his sense of justice in the matter. With an over-sized two-handed sword, he continuously finished off any wildlife, afflicted by a sudden fire in their fur. Picking up the copper coins right under Wail’s nose.

That didn’t last long.

A few fireballs, screams and evil chuckles later - Wail was left to himself once more. A solitary man indeed.

He sat down after picking up anything left behind by the so called “adventurer” and sat down on a nearby rock. Wail reached into a bag that was hanging from his waist - bulging with goodies and took out a stale loaf of bread.

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Not a very appetizing sight, but he didn’t mind and chowed down, while observing his day’s work. An empty field - scorched and barren, the wind playing around with ash - while the smiling sun shared its fading rays before disappearing in the horizon. Romantic, seemed like an adequate run-down for a description.

Wail felt a sense of accomplishment. Truly - a splendid day’s work. But as they say, work never waits and his afternoon snack was interrupted by an angry snarl from the rear. As he quickly turned to the sudden disturbance, the first thing his eyes caught on were sharp teeth - dripping with saliva.

A skinny looking wolf, covered in black fur, glared hungrily at Wail – intentions clear as day. This wolf found its prey. Crouching, ready to pounce any moment.

Some would spend their time doubting, thinking of what to do. Some would feel threatened, run away even. Some would just stay frozen. Not Wail though. Oh no. He reacted with coldblooded instincts, discarding the loaf of bread without a single thought. Well maybe a single one. His mother did teach him not to waste food. But sometimes one needs to make sacrifices.

He quickly lifted his left arm in defense and conjured a fireball with his right.

But Wail wasn’t the only one who reacted. With jaws opened wide for a quick bite, the wolf leapt at dinner without a single second wasted - and bit into Wail’s left arm.

Sadly, the puppy didn’t have time to savor the taste as a sudden burning sensation encroached on its belly. With a whimpering whine, it quickly disengaged and fell to the ground, squirming on the sand, attempting to put out the fire. With visible success. Once done, it quickly jumped to the side – and just in time, as another fireball hit the ground seconds after the departure.

Wail grinned revealing a set of crooked teeth. This was fun. He was enjoying himself, dancing in the scorched field with this cute little puppy dog, left hand bleeding - a sweet sensation of pain. This is the life. Roles have changed - as the advantage now belonged to the former prey.

With the received initiative, Wail sent multiple fireballs one after the other at the poor creature, most of them missing. A few though, did indeed hit - fur already smoldering.

Another fireball, another dodging jump. A slip and now the wolf was right where Wail needed him to be. He readied his right hand one last time, ready to perform the finishing move. Yet to his surprise - no fire appeared. An empty palm stretching out comically.

Out of mana.

“Fuck…”

The smile was now gone. Wail didn’t feel like he had fun anymore either. The wolf on the other hand could sense the tables turning and even with fires burning on his back, chased its food around the rest of the evening. Until the last of his health burned away and only ash remained.

Wail sat down and released a heavy sigh. Barely alive he managed to survive this sudden turn of events. Relief slowly washed over the exhausted body. Money earned, experience gained and alive. All in all, the day ended in quite a pleasant way - is what he thought, until a loud noise interrupted his thought process again.

“Stop right there, criminal scum!”

Wide eyed, Wail could only watch a heavily armored guard charge at him with a sword held high – ready to bring down justice.

Seems like he ended up on a patrolled road.

“Shouldn’t have burned that guy…”

You have died.