The slender frame of a dark cloak-clad figure swished past the tall trees in the Wanderling Woods.
His cape billowed behind him, the wind howling in his face. The dark sky showed hints of rain, and drops would occasionally fall, pattering softly on the mysterious man's face.
He snuck behind an ancient Wanderling, it bark cracked, its roots wild and twisting over each other. The man knocked twice on the bark, and ripped a loose piece off.
A door lay underneath.
The man, clearly excited, ripped the remaining bark from the back of the tree. After that was finished, he grabbed the brass knocker on the door and raised it up…
The door swung open and the man was pulled forward by a gust of wind so strong it could carry a Velociraptor.
The man fell, fell, fell, wondering if it would ever stop.
Then he hit soft, cushiony ground.
Dazed, he stood up, wincing as his burnt hand got stuck underneath him.
Another man stepped out of the shadows, wearing the same dark cloak the man was.
"Are you ready, Brant?" The second man said to the first one. The first man, Brant, grinned and held out his hand.
In it was a spark of Everblaze, dancing intricately across his palm.