A lone figure walked down a long and dusty road. He was an odd man, nobody knew where he came from, not that anybody cared, he was just another drifter to them. The man stopped. He started to look around the trees. Suddenly he whirled around and there standing like death itself, stood a man in black. It was the last thing he was to see before his neck was snapped by invisible hands.

The black robed figure stood up; he had gotten what he had come for. He chanted something under his breath and then he was gone, all that remained was the corpse of the unknown man.