You are a warlock who lives deep in the darkness of the woods. You help those who seek it but others seem to think that you're an evil warlock.

You walk around near the edge of the woods, searching for ingredients for your potions and such. You crouch down to pick up something when you hear something snap behind you.

"Aren't you a pretty thing" You hear a voice say as he walks up behind you, "I say you might be prettier when you're burning at stake!" He smirked, aiming his sword at you.