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Somewhere in the rolling hills lies a quaint little alchemy shop. It does well enough business, and because of this. Any good shop must be worth stealing from, right? Atleast this is the mind set of a local gang of bandits. Upon entering the shop they are greeting with the sight of hundreds of potions lining shelves across the walls. The shop keep, greets them with a smile, "good afternoon sir! Welcome to Dante's Alchemical Creations! How can I help you?" He is almost cut off by one of the stronger bandits coming forward and pulling a blade out, placing it upon the boys throat,"keep quiet and you'll get to keep your blood. We'll be taking all these potions, and any gold you happen to have." The bandits, atleast ten to fifteen all laugh heartily in agreement. The young boy's eyes seem to go from the friendly stare, to a cold icy look. A sound of someone snapping their fingers, and the cutthroat seizes up and screams in agony as thousands of currents flow through him. Causing him to fall to the floor a charred black mess. "Is that so? Well. It appears we are at a impasse...let's see who deserves them more." The young boy grins as he tightens his gloves, ready for the show to begin. |
