He emerges from the sewer visibly shaking, grasping a rusty iron bow to his chest as though it's a life preserver and he a drowning man. Before today, he has never shot a rat, a goblin, a walking skeleton; never lit an arrow on fire with willpower alone and sent it soaring off into the ubiquitous gloom. Never walked in the presence of emperors. Never seen a man die.
"Maybe I came here too hastily," he begins to think, but then he shoulders through that grate and sees the sun rising and feels – knows that this is his world. Now. Forever.