A boy runs around a small village yelling the words ‘It has appeared, it has appeared’
The people of the village immediately run to their respective houses and prepare their various champions. Their champions wear their family heirlooms, assortments of charms and armour. Some carry grimoires and ingredients of all sorts and rush to the outskirts of their village.
Only the champions were allowed to attend the gate’s opening so the villagers stay behind waving goodbye and good wishes as they left for greatness.
The champions marched forward with their families blessings. As they walked, towards the gate they could see its majesty from afar. Adorned with the skulls of its past challengers, lined from edge to edge caging their souls. Some champions began to pick up their pace while others began to run, they were all eager for the prices that lay within it.
As they came closer, the large doors slowly swung open, welcoming them into its bright light.
They went in, each only as eager as the last…
Inside, there was a green land, with blacksmith boxes scattered all around, the mimicking rumours were true… some champions went to open some, arming themselves but the wisest were those who left the boxes alone, nothing from the blacksmith was truly good… one cursed by the gods
After the ruckus calmed down, the air changed… it became thinner and harder for them to breathe
The green land became a desert and they went silent sensing danger. From the vast space within the gate, a loud cheer could be heard coming their way
From the distance, all they could see was dust being raised but as the large crowd got closer they could see an army of the dead armed to the teeth
Some of the champions immediately lost morale and gave up, others turned around to try and leave through where they came come through but the doors were sealed shut. They had no choice but to fight so they began
The battle raged on and on for hours, days, months even, that’s what it felt like to them at least
Eventually, the army of the dead withdrew finding their challengers worthy. The doors came open again and they ran for their lives.
Reaching outside they notice that only those who had taken one item or the other from the boxes made it through the battle
They appreciated each other’s lack of humility but came to understand just how shrewd the blacksmith was. He had made it impossible for those who didn’t desire his inventions to make it out alive.
When they regained their energy, they tried to leave as the gate disappeared but in front of them was an incoming crowd. It was an army of the living and they were also armed
The champions laughed at the absurdity of their situation realizing that they had only survived the first battle, there was still more to come.
They eventually died valiantly in battle but that was to be expected. The blacksmith had created the gate to gather souls for his many, many experiments offering them dis defective junks as a price
The gate was about to disappear and reappear to another gullible lot that would offer sacrifices when it felt a familiar scent in front of it.
It was a man, he had white hair and white pupils. The gate felt threatened and tried to run to another dimension but all it could do was freeze
The man pulled out his sword from its sheath and slashed the gate… that was the end of this calamity birthed by an anomaly
Ravens felt the shake in existence as thousands and thousands of souls were freed from their bondage but none dared to come close, dreading the white rabbit
The man then returned his sword to its sheath and bowed a little uttering the words ‘Sorry…’
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The Marked Slaves
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