Samuel had known for a while now that someone was coming after him. It was inevitable really, he had made so many enemies in his short life, the Academy, the Warrior’s Guild, and he’d killed one of the Black Hands best assassins…

Two days into a long chase, Samuel finally found the sort of place he was looking for. His boots splashed through saturated grass and all around him large boulders protruded to the sky, as if worshiping their father mountain far off in the distance. The Ice Mage, dressed in simple robes and furs which met more utilitarian needs than anything else, peered out into the dim-light of a winter’s late-afternoon, the sun just threatening to dip beneath the mountain.

“Here is where I’ll meet him.” Samuel said to himself, slightly worryingly he had taken to talking to himself as of late, though the ramifications of this behaviour had yet to sink into his paranoid mind. Looking around, he took cover between two nestled boulders which obscured most of his body, and began drawing mana to his hand, looking around intently as he did so. His satchel pushed to one side, he slammed his palm directly into the rock beside him, a blue rune suddenly appearing and fading away just as quickly as he did so.

“I’ll kill him.” He muttered, settling down to wait.

(Mana: 85)