• In a world where there is no hope, there lives a young man of incredible stature. His hair dyed red in the blood of his enemies. He’s always been alone…wandering the sands of time…until one day.
    The young man was staying at a large Inn filled with bandits and thieves alike. He took a seat at the bar hoping to find a companion to accompany him in his travels. He was waiting a while until someone came up behind him and said, “Aye! Let me buy you a drink young man.”
    It was a very large man almost the young man’s size. His face was scarred with a large X on his cheek but was covered up almost completely by his wild tangle of a beard.
    He asked where the young man was headed. He just replied, “I’m looking for someone. I don’t know where to look however.”
    “Aye, aren’t we all?” says the large man; the man takes another drink before continuing.
    The young man turns around to see a bar full of angry bandits and thieves staring at him and the man. He turns to the man and whispers, “Don’t look now but I think those bandits may want to slit our throats.” The large old man replied, “Well everyone here aside from us is from that new thieves guild. This new thieves guild does not care for leaving their victims alive and seeks self-wealth unlike the old one. The old one kills no one and steals for the poor.”
    The Young man just stared and said, “Then I suppose we’re not leaving here without a fight.” He grasps his sword firmly. The bandits glared at the pair in the dimly lit tavern. The candles were burning closely to their end, the wax of the candles slowly reaching the bottom of the holster, which they were held. The candle was starting to lose its life and then the candle blew out. The bandits leaped from their seats, knocking their food, the furniture, the drink everywhere. They dived toward the two men. The time seemed to stop around the young man as he spoke to the old man, “What’s your name?”
    The man replied, “Balthazar, what is yours?”
    The young man replied, “I’ll tell you if we get out of this.”
    He unsheathed his sword as well did Balthazar, One of the bandits yelled out; “They’re armed!”
    The rest of the bandits quickly unsheathed their blades. There must have been at least 40 bandits.
    The two warriors clashed with the bandits, they were ravenous wolves among a herd of sheep. The Bandits were slaughtered, one by one, their blood dyeing the walls of the inn red. Many a bandits had fallen in this short battle, yet the pair had come out on top without a single scratch. There was only one bandit left on the ground, shivering in fear.
    He stared at the two men who slaughtered his comrades; they were demons of hell in his eyes.
    They both started to walk slowly up to the bandit, the bandit ran, ran like the coward he was, afraid of two men. Balthazar went into the back and brought out a barrel of whiskey, along with the unconscious barkeep. The young man asked, “What’s that for?”
    “Half of it is for burning this building; the other half is to drink.” He replied.
    As he said, he began spreading the whiskey all over the floor. He and the young man left the building first, and then Balthazar lit a match and ignited the whiskey. They watched the flames dance in the night, thousands of embers igniting the inn. Watching everything burn, the corpses of the bandits and the bodies of the employees, burning into black piles of ash.
    “Well, what’s your name boy?” asked Balthazar.
    The young man replied in a small voice, “My name is Destan, shall we go?”
    And with that they started walking to towards the outside of town, Into the winds of the desert.