He was in the middle of the town square when he looked up at the sky. It was as dark as the night. He stared at it, dumbstruck and confused, and looked down to observe the wooden roofs around him. They were lit up by sunlight as if everything were normal.
In front of this otherworldly phenomenon he screamed. At that moment it was the only logical way for him to get anyone to notice him, to have noticed if something was wrong, and to help him. Villagers came and tried to restrain him, as he was flailing himself maniacally. The miners heard the blood-curdling shrieks and came rushing and they tried to figure out what to do with him. The last thing he saw before his vocal cords burst was shadows gliding downwards into the crowds.
The village is in ruins. The midday sun hovers directly over the catastrophe. Flickering fires that are about to burn out show signs of a pitiful struggle against the dark force that descended upon the town.
A silhouette of an old man appears on the horizon, shuffling towards the devastated town. It walks past the village’s famed silver gate, which is left towering amongst the ruins., the old man can be seen holding a dusty notebook of some kind, jotting down his observations of the wreckages casually as he walks towards the town square. As it strolls closer, the illusion breaks and the hunched old man’s face deforms into something completely alien and inhuman. It thinks out loud telepathically.
They did a number on those villagers, hm?
Talking to no one in particular, the creature-
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I’m talking to you, Diem. Are you going to explain why you are here, meddling with our world? Face it, everywhere you go, the Dark World follows-
I prefer to call it the Otherworld. It’s none of your business to ask my justifications for doing whatever I want to the universe.
The creature smiles, its face wrinkling into a monstrous uncanny drawing. Even the dying flames seem to naturally lean away as a result. It scribbles down notes while studying the nearby crumbling stone church.
May I introduce myself, Diem? You’re probably going to kill me anyway. Might as well make myself a named character in the story, right?
You are Sinner the Wandering. You are here to witness this event because… yes, you will record the story. I’ll let you live.
Sinner sits and begins to review his writings. If that is what you want, Diem, then I shall do the task. May I ask where our protagonists get introduced?
If you have any sense of direction around this area, I’m sure you can find it. It will start in Eldenhaven in two days. Be discreet.
Sinner nods and produces a handful of milky white orbs that seem to glow. They quickly melt together to form a kitty that seems to fall apart at any moment. It bounces around in Sinner’s bony and shriveled hands, apparently grateful for the opportunity to freely move about. Sinner telepathically gives it instructions, and it floats away into the clouds, toward the little town of Eldenhaven.
The first of its kind.
The first for your world.
People will always be second-best. Men are easy to give up once they learn that.
Then I suppose they will never learn. I’ll see ya later, Sinner.