The Drifter’s cracked lips have long since grown numb to the taste of hunger and the cold of winter although they can’t seem to get used to the headaches that assail their mind.

They are in a dark, piss lined alley somewhere in the southern outskirts of Starfall as the dark clouds above starve them of the rising sun’s light.

Memories of how they got here and who they are elude them and they would sigh in defeat but any following breath could be their last, so they simply continue to sit.

Clad in dirty rags, their motionless body presses itself against the hard brick wall behind them as they try to keep themselves awake.

Countless people walk past the alley and none of them spare a glance at their pitiful self.

Passing conversations reveal that the city’s inner parts are accessible only to followers or affiliates of the Order of Light.

It seems as though they are the governing body of city although a handful of people mutter curses regarding the strict laws they enforce on the masses.

Most of these mutters are hushed and whispered but it seemed as though residents periodically have their houses inspected for prohibited activities.

Same applies to businesses who are searched from time to time all in the name of Light. Whatever that means.

Most of these things ultimately don’t really matter to Drifter though. Not in the moment, at least.

All Drifter wants is a hot meal and a bed to sleep on but alas.

A strange change in the air widens their eyes and they turn to the north, toward the center of Starfall.

Their nose twitches the slightest bit as the smell of fire fills their sense.

Screams follow from beyond the cruel comfort of the Alley bringing the Drifter to their feet and they dread to investigate the cause of all the sudden chaos as terrified several people run past the alley.

The Drifter bites their teeth as fear now pulses through them with every beat of their weakened heart but before they can even decide whether or not to leave the alley, a strange bubbling noise catches their attention.

They look down to find a small puddle where there was none on the ground.

It’s filled with a thick black liquid that seems to be boiling hot but they cannot feel any heat.

Their heart then nearly ceases as a strange and small humanoid creature jumps out of the puddle.

The Drifter instinctively raises their arms to defend themselves from the creature which has pitch black skin and a large bald head that’s covered in lumps.

It's eyes creepily glow a dull red as it snarls at them with needle like teeth.

It’s covered in uneven patches of fur and is wielding a club made of a dark, shiny stone.

The creature lashes out at the Drifter, wildly swinging as it does and they fearfully evade its attacks by dashing backwards.

The creature is small, no taller than a preteen child but the Drifter can see the power behind its swings. If even one of them land, flesh will tear and bone will shatter.

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The Drifter quickly realizes that they can’t keep backing away as countless more anguished screams from beyond the alley torment their ears.

There are more creatures out there!

Fear soaks the Drifter’s skin.

If they fail to save themselves from the creature in front of them, then what chance do they stand against the horrors that await beyond the alley.

Fear is rapidly accompanied by determination so, after waiting for the to wildly swung its club once again, the Drifter dashes forward, grabs its small arm and twists it until it dislocates, prompting the creature to cry out in pain.

But this isn’t enough to convince the Drifter that they’re safe so they unceremoniously dislocate its other arm before quickly tumbling backwards and out of the alley as the creature falls to the ground all while whimpering in pain.

It’s here that the Drifter sees countless more small dark creatures attacking the denizens of Starfall. They rip through the bodies of men, women and children before feeding on their flesh, letting the blood of the denizens of Starfall wash over its stone paved streets.

The Drifter shifts their hazy focus to the one in the alley just stumbles onto its feet and readies to attack them again but, without its arms, it’s movements are limited. It can only launch itself forward in an attempt to bite the Drifter, who simply backs away.

They wait for another opening and this time, they kick the creature in the shin, making it fall onto its face, before straddling it and wrapping its own broken arm around its neck.

The creature let’s out several agonized screams as the Drifter suffocates it even further and it isn’t long before its small body goes limp.

The fiery smell from before grows stronger and, while it burns a little, it also brings with it visions of a place not even the Drifter’s worst nightmares could conjure.

A realm of darkness and oceans of Sin.

Fortresses of Obsidian and rivers of black blood make the backdrop of a scene where the countless corpses, born of the Black Rivers, are hewn onto the faces of the towers as if something crushed them onto those places.

The dark vision quickly fades and the Drifter turn their Quivering eyes to their surroundings where rest of the creature’s kin continue to they murder, brutalize and defile their victims.

No one is spared, man, woman or child, from their violence and while one of them is bad enough, the unfortunate are attacked by groups at a time and their bodies are mutilated beyond recognition in seconds.

The Drifter’s eyes widen as a pack of them notices them.

The creatures begin their wild sprints towards the Drifter who uses what little strength they have left to raise their fists but just as the creatures reach them, a wave of light passes through all of their necks in a a second.

All of their bodies then fall and their heads roll away soon after.

The Drifter fearfully turns their head to the left in search of the source of whatever or whoever saved them.

Their already wide eyes widen upon seeing a tall man clad in a dark cloak that party covers a suit of blackened armor.

At his waist are what appear to be four crystals, three of which are glowing brightly white.

His skin is as pale as his ashen grey eyes and hair which is odd since doesn’t seem to be much older than thirty five years old.

The Drifter’s trembling eyes then begin to water a little as they glance at the weapon he wields in his right hand.

A sword that seems to be glowing but the light is so soft, so gentle, that it lulls a bit of the terror that has taken root in their heart.

“I can’t tell if you’re a brave soul or an idiot but you really shouldn’t be standing around here-“ The man’s growl is stopped partway as he walks towards the Drifter.

His sharp eyes scan them briefly and he glances at the remaining creatures before quickly spotting the dead one behind them.

“Huh… looks like you’re no ordinary Drifter. And with just your bare hands too.” He muttered to himself.

“Say, I know this is a lot to ask of someone but could you help me clear this place of these filthy demons? Your reward will be a soft bed and some hot food… if you survive.” The man softly smiles even as more creatures approach from the shadows but, for some reason, they keeping their distance and have resorted to barking.

The Drifter tries thinking about the offer and their mouth waters at the thought of food.

But… these Demons, as the man calls them, are not to be taken lightly.

And, even though he managed to kill a few of them, is he really capable of handling the small horde that’s rapidly gathering?

The Drifter’s focus returns to the man who seemingly reads their expression and raises his left hand as if stopping them.

“My name is Brandóm of Mistshire and, as you can probably tell, I am a Sacerd – a warrior of the Order of Light. Also, I don’t mean to rush you the fiends behind us are getting a bit impatient.” He smiles again as the snarls from the Demons grow louder.

So… what does the Drifter do?

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