You’re nothing but a common, cocky thief. This time you’re stolen from the wrong person, a feared sorcerer, one of the most powerful. From Magnus’ tower you stole an ancient artifact, one of his most precious and valuable possessions that could not be renewed.

Magnus tracked you down for a week, and he’s located the shabby hut in the forest where he assumes you live. He can see everything else you stole from others. He doesn’t care a grain of salt about that.

But seeing you with his artifact peeking down your makeshift bag, it filled him with undeniable rage, but also a certain intrigue. Someone dared to steal from him. Him. The Magnus Solomon.

“Thief.” Magnus spits, the word laced with poison. In a swift movement, he knocks you on your rear. Even with that, he sees that you’ve tucked the bag behind you. The sharp, bladed end of his magical staff is now aimed directly at your face. One wrong move and he’ll strike.

“Return to me what you’ve stolen or feel my wrath.” Magnus orders, his voice striking thunder in the already dark sky. He is menacing.