3. [WP]You are a guard in a fantasy world. You notice a man in elegant armor kick a...

[WP]You are a guard in a fantasy world. You notice a man in elegant armor kick a chicken in the streets. In your lawful rage, you manage to kill this man in the name of justice. To your dismay, you realize you just killed The Chosen One. You just doomed the world.

Someone had to do it.

Jim Calyan knew as much when he saw another smug young scoundrel in ridiculous, gilded armour kick his favourite pet chicken to unconsciousness.

"Loraine!" he shouted in dismay, rushing over.

The young knight looked his way and grinned.

"Ye nobles think ye ken do anything!" Jim grumbled at the boy, fiddling for his handcuffs. There would at least be a penalty fine for property damage. "Why would ye do that? Just 'cause ye were born into proper blood doesn't mean ye ken-"

"Come at me bro," the gilded idiot said with a smug grin. "I need the XP anyway."

Jim breathed calmly out. He was ready to ignore this nonsense and just take out the handcuffs, but then the young fool went and planted his gilded heel into Loraine's head and squashed it to a bloody pulp.

Even in the hierarchy and foolishness of "divine right" in this medieval world, there was a limit to Jim's patience.

"LORAINE!"

"It's just a chicken bro," the knight said.

"Ye've gone and done it now, punk," Jim grumbled, unsheating his sword. The young fool danced away, surprisingly spry in the heavy gilded plate-metal.

"Come on, have a go," he grinned. "I'll let you take the first hit."

Jim Calyan waved his sturdy iron sword, and it magically bounced off the gilded armour. The young knight laughed, but Jim pressed on in his rage, lunging wildly at one of the uncovered gaps in the armour. All it did was put the knight slightly off balance.

The gilded knight took a spry step back, raising his own, massive sword.

It was at this point that he realised he'd stepped right onto the road where a massive cart, pulled by three horses, was roaring towards him. In a deafening crash of wrecked wood, cloth, and screaming horses, the magical sword went flying, twirling in the air, and landed with sickening precision - Jim could only follow it with helpless eyes - point-first into the gilded knight's chest.

The lad was deader than Loraine.

"Shit," Jim Calyan said.

"Gods save us," the cart driver groaned, somewhere in the mess of cart parts and horses. "That was xL33tda0ne."

Jim paled. He'd killed the only non-NPC in the world.

"What're we gonna do," the cart driver groaned. Somehow, deep down, subconsciously, they all knew they had needed the young gilded knight to save their world. He had radiated it, with more than just his silly gold-shine.

"I'll tell ye what we're gonna do," Jim Calyan said, stooping over the gilded corpse and stripping it of the platemail. "I reckon someone else is just gonna have to go to Dune-itanya and challenge the Sand-Lich."

He spat as he withdrew the magical sword and felt power fill his limbs, muscles flooding with ethereal, coded power.

"For Loraine," he said.

Because hell... someone had to do it.

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