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Come adventurer, brave the land of magic, and stake your claim in the realm of heroes.

-From Aeons of Arcania, Introduction

It was a moonless night in Seven Groves, and Munch the Minotaur smelled death.

His own.

Light reflected across from the sharp blade of a menacing halberd ax. Its curved wooden handle had ancient engravings that depicted bulls and men doing battle. Clutching the wooden stick along its grooves was the monstrous, black-gloved hand of a dark brown Minotaur. Munch the Minotaur's colossal shadow danced alongside the green bushes, attuned to the flicker of the sulfuric torches lining the maze.

Munch stared down the pathway lined with perfectly cut boxwood bushes. A silver knight held tightly onto a steel two-handed broadsword. In the knight's polished full-plate armor, Munch could see his reflection staring back at him. The man glowed with a faint blue aura that gave him an ethereal appearance.

Munch could perceive the magic - a spell of protection.

Beside the knight, stood a tall, lean figure with long, flowing, silver hair. A mage with elven features: pointed ears, a worn black cloak, and a wooden staff. He was young, noble in stature, light-skinned. A blue orb was affixed to the top of his staff. It glowed with the same hue of blue as the knight's armor.

"Prepare to die, vile scum," said the knight. He charged at Munch with his broadsword raised above his right shoulder, ready to swing.

"This one will be an easy kill, Chance," said the wizard peering through a transparent, triangular shard of glass that he held in his right hand. "My analysis shows that his strength is surprisingly weak."

"I claim that ax, Mordux," the knight said.

Mordux, the elven magician, raised his staff into the air and whispered something that Munch could not make out. The orb on the staff glowed brightly, and a red beam of energy erupted vigorously from within it. The streak of light shot out from the staff's orb like boiling liquid, searing the air with a blaze of crimson. It streaked toward Munch through the dark night, coruscating like fireworks on Nightfest. A fiery heat spread across the green maze bushes lining the path, causing black marks of burnt leaves to form like the tentacles of a lost sea monster.

Munch's chest surged with adrenaline at the sight of the approaching attack. He reached backward with his right hand and drew a large iron shield that was attached to his back. Its enormous ovular shape would grant some protection against the magic shot. Munch positioned the shield directly in front of him like a pikeman walking into enemy fire.

The bright red streak slammed into the shield exploding in a tremulous howl. Munch thought he could hear cackling and screeching accompany the impact. The front of Munch's round shield turned black as the night as it absorbed the majority of the blow. The intense heat spread up Munch's hand and arm like a shadow enveloping a landscape at dawn.

The nerves in Munch's arm shrieked in pain before turning numb, a false tinge of coldness following the burning sensation. His jaw dropped, shocked at the effects of the spell. It burned only his right arm. The deadened blood vessels near his shoulder cut off his circulation, walling off the boiling hot blood from penetrating his heart.

The attack hadn't hit him directly. He'd only experienced the aftereffects of the impact on his shield. Even that was more than enough.

Munch stood wide-eyed as the knight clambered forward. Munch raised his burnt shield to block the knight's forward thrust of his broadsword. It clanged against the shield, shattering it into a thousand ash-coated pieces that lined the dirt path of the Minotaur Maze. The blade sliced clean through Munch's arm, leaving it intact but separated from Munch's torso.

Munch growled like a lion on the Savannah. His mind failed to conceive that the missing limb was gone. He perceived a writhing, tingling sensation emanating from the would-be appendage.

"I have you now, beast." The knight's eyes glowered through the visor in his steel helm. A long red plume was attached to the top of the knight's helmet. The crimson feather curved backward in an ostentatious show of import and pretention.

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The knight drew back his broadsword. "Prepare to die."

Munch's heart skipped a beat. His body braced itself for impact. Dying was painful.

Munch backstepped as the knight swung his sword, missing Munch by inches. The wind from the blow turned back Munch's fur. His eyes widened as he saw the sword-tip pass in front of his nose. The blade was sharp. Its tip would easily shear metal, much more so Minotaur flesh.

Munch countered with his halberd. The muscles of his left arm tensed as he aimed the weapon. It was meant to be a two-handed ax. With one hand, Munch would be lucky if he landed a solid blow.

The ax made contact. Munch landed a critical strike on the knight's head. Munch's hand seemed to jolt more from the collision than the knight.

A blue aura shimmered along with the knight's figure like water rippling from a dropped stone. It brightened and quivered like sap flowing from a tree. Munch's jaw dropped. He had managed a perfectly aimed blow but yielded zero damage to the haughty intruder. The spell of protection had absorbed the entire impact.

"Ha - you weak, mindless beast," said the knight. "You can't even beat a basic spell of protection."

"You're welcome," Mordux added snobbishly. "That scroll was expensive. Let's get this over with, Chance."

Why were these tortuous adventurers so puerile and petty? They took pleasure in ripping his guts out and butchering him like an animal. Over and over and over again. It never ended.

Munch was only the first of seven boss Minotaurs and by far the weakest. He was meant to die. He was the appetizer, the warm-up before the real battle would start. But Munch occasionally had a few tricks up his sleeve even if he was rather weak and had little to no affinity for magic. He had a brain, didn't he?

Mordux the mage cast a spell from his staff - the same one. The orb glowed with a bright orange, yellow flame that was ten times more brilliant than Munch's measly campfire. Fire appeared as a slithering snake-like shape that pushed its way out of the staff-orb. It had a luminescence that matched the sun and a texture that was nearly like liquid syrup. It writhed its way toward Munch, seemingly alive.

Munch had a more unobstructed view and recognized the spell from his studies. He was no mage himself, but that didn't mean he couldn't read books on magic. Lesser Fire Wyrm. The shot of lifelike light would follow him wherever he went. An idea impressed itself upon Munch's mind. He wasn't particular nimble or skilled as a fighter, but this idea required neither.

"This shot will finish you, beast. This is Mordux's best spell. It will finish you. You'll be turned to ash in one hit."

Munch reached down and grabbed his severed arm off the ground and waved it in the air to attract the Lesser Fire Wyrm. The liquid light slithered through the air until it was nearly a yard from making contact with the limb when Munch snapped the limb sideways, tossing it directly at the knight.

The enchanted wyrm snaked a sharp left after the airborne arm like an eagle following a lesser bird. The aerial arm lightly thudded against the knight's helm.

Chance, the knight, gasped in shock as Munch's arm hit him directly in the visor, realization impressing itself upon his mind. As the arm flew, the wyrm lept after it, and the severed Minotaur arm erupted in flame. The enflamed limb merged with the Lesser Fire Wyrm, which grew into a larger version of itself - Fire Wyrm.

Munch thought he could see the magical spell grow fangs as it tripled in size. Munch's lips turned upward. He was a magical creature, after all. He had heard that Minotaurs, as well as their body parts, were known to have beneficial effects on certain spells. He'd thought that was just an old wives' tale, but today he discovered it was true.

Chance screamed and flailed his arms in the air as the Fire Wyrm penetrated his visor and worked its way into his body. The magically summoned wyrm was consuming him from within. Gray smoke poured out of the chinks in his armor as he fell to his knees. Munch could smell bits of ash in the air and charred metal.

Chance's helm and armor fell into pieces in a pile on the ground. The wyrm cremated him such that Munch could barely make out his bones.

Incredible.

"You must think you are clever?" said Mordux. "Well, I have to admit, it was rather clever. I am not yet good enough to cast a Fire Wyrm on my own. After I finish you, I'll have to collect bits of your hide for later." Mordux glanced at Munch and narrowed his eyes.

"Stop. You both attacked me."

"Well, you can talk? Very nice. I didn't know Minotaurs could talk."

"I can make it worth your while if you agree to a truce."

"Ha, a truce? With a Minotaur? You must be joking. More like an unconditional surrender."

"You'll just kill me and take my hide if I surrender."

"True."

Munch leaned in, grabbing the fallen knight's broadsword from the ground and charged at the wizard. He had only a small window of attack before the wizard would cast another spell. Against which Munch stood no chance.

Too late.

As Munch sprinted forward, bright blue particles emerged from Mordux's staff and floated toward Munch. They looked like miniature stars hovering in the air. As Munch approached, a bolt of electricity connected between them, forming an interlocking web of light. The bolt leaped from the web, striking him in the stomach. A vice gripped his insides and jolted them with pain. Munch's stomach felt like it was thrown into a blender and puréed.

Munch gasped and fell to the ground, helpless.

He looked up blearily, unable to move. His vision was blurred, but he could make out the robed wizard standing above him. Mordux awkwardly dangled his companion's broadsword with two hands and pointed it downward at the debilitated Munch. With his entire body weight, Mordux stabbed the sword into Munch's chest.

Munch's heart was literally split in two. The pain from the blow was beyond words. Utter blackness followed.