Merek watched as the thief dashed away with his enchanted letter, mouth agape like much of the crowd he’d gathered. It didn’t take long for him to stumble down from his makeshift stage and begin sprinting after the barefoot rogue thoughtlessly, shoving his way through the dense crowd. Even though he didn’t know the contents of the letter, he [i]did[/i] know that there was a good chance he’d be incinerated if he didn’t follow its instructions, a fate Merek very much wanted to avoid. The throng thinned after escaping the square and he dashed after the hooded figure, barely able to keep his eye on the short thief through the crowd. Merek’s already tenuous focus was further drawn from the task at hand when the rogue jostled a rather fetching, though bewildered, blonde woman during his escape down the narrowing alley. Time crawled to a stop, as if the gods were blessing him a longer glance at the specimen before him. Her long, golden locks flowed through the air, shimmering from the light of the dying sun. Eyes brighter than a full harvest moon that seemed to burn through the rabble of the busy street and lock with his own. Her modest dress served only to further accentuate the natural beauty of her body, for even the finest silks and linens in all the land couldn’t outmatch this goddess.  
 
[i]This is the woman I marry.[/i]
 
In a grandiose, overly-chivalric movement, Merek swept the staggered woman into his arms as if she were a dainty flower in danger of blowing away with the wind. Everything was lost in this moment for Merek; no thieves, no letters, his only concern was what he held in his arms as his eyes eagerly absorbed every inch of her being. However, this eventually lead to her hands, and his eyes couldn’t help but soak up something in the palm of her hand. A scar, very much like his own. The scar that threatened to incinerate him. If he didn’t have something?
 
[i]The letter.[/i]
 
The words that came out of Merek’s mouth weren’t nearly as charming as the sonnet he’d been composing in his head, but they served roughly the same purpose. [color=0072bc] “Minnie’s Tavern! Later! Scar!”[/color] With these scant words, Merek righted the girl and dashed off after the man in possession of the letter that might dictate whether or not he turns into ash.