When Everything is Made to be Broken

Chapter 1 - An Unborn Soul

Hey guys! After a long break, Scatter is back!

Did you miss me? No? Eh, I hope you like this anyway.

Don't forget to comment, and on with the story!!!!!!!!!!! :)

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Nate was never particularly fond of crowds. Actually, he hated them. They were always so noisy and busy. And besides, crowds never really seemed to enjoy him either.

At least a couple good Samaritans had the moderate decency to pretend as if they weren't staring. He could feel it – all of the eyes icily trained straight at him sent chills shivering down his spine as he hurriedly scanned the quest board for a job with a suitable reward. It was faster than reading through each description only to find that the quest's pay was nowhere worth his while.

"...a flame-proof wristlet.... No.... when would this ever be useful?" he muttered to himself. "...why on earth would anyone want this.... And-?" All other noises but his own slow, steady breathing drained out of his ears as he read the reward over and over again in his mind. Snatching the rare chance off the board, he silently read the briefing.

An Unborn soul

Party size: 1 – 4 people

Difficulty: medium

Quest type: protect the reward

Monsters: Hogs and Slimes

Description: find and protect the dragon egg before the monsters destroy the unborn baby.

Reward: dragon's egg

A dragon's egg. An actual dragon's egg.

"Hey, give me that!!" Nate's head was violently jerked backwards as dark green haired punk yanked the long, flowing ends of the scarf that Nate had tied up as a head band. He instinctively grabbed a bronze pen out of his left pocket, crumpling the quest as he shoved it in to fill the pen's place.

"Let. Go," he ordered.

The kid snickered. "Then give me the quest," He commanded, allowing Nate to see the summoning rod he held intimidatingly over his head. "Otherwise you'll be sporting claw marks all over those grimy pants of yours." He smirked, inspecting Nate's well-worn clothes. "And considering your class, who knows how long it'll be before you can get a new pair."

A couple of kids snickered at his sharp remark, fueling the rowdy troublemaker's razor-edged comments. "How terrifying," he joked. "Nothing but a pen in his hand to defend himself. Sorry, but the letter to mommy won't make it in time." He paused, a smirk to rival death's played tauntingly across his face. "You know, assuming you can write."

Mutely holding the pen out before him, Nate squinted his eyes as a familiar glow enveloped the harmless writing utensil. The bully froze, summoning staff held midair as he botched up the process of calling forth whatever clawed creature he'd threatened.

"I'll make you a deal," Nate snarled, menacingly gripping the axe that had previously taken the form of the pen. "You don't bother me, your rod stays in one piece. After all," he mimicked, "considering how low you were willing to stoop, who knows how long it'll be before a poor little weakling like you can get your hands on a new one."

Meekly nodding, the hooligan bolted, paying no mind to the bystanders he rammed into in his escape. Nate sighed, returning his axe to pen form and dropping it back in his pocket. Quite frankly, it really worked to his advantage that most spineless imbeciles were terrified of his brutish magic.