Puppet Master wandered aimlessly through Firefly Forest. His robes torn and tattered as he floated along. Fresh snow fell around him, blanketing the ground in a weak snow.

Still, it was freezing. His wound in his chest burned, the pain gnawing at him. He had lost his staff when fighting those pesky wizards that drove him from the academy, and had to send Pippet— his right hand man —to find it.