The Staff

A man, horrified, flees to the very tip of a rocky, coastal peak. He carries only a long, metal staff with him. His purple, flowing robes are tattered and bloody. A large gash reaches down his body from his shoulder. Blood streams from the wound. He breathes heavily as he climbs.

His pursuer calmly walks behind him, unimpressed by the victims strength as he dies. at his side he carries a long blade, seemingly once attatched to a scythe, upon an elaborate handle. Long, black hair is whipped behind him by the sea-breeze.
" Magician. Give me the staff and I will let you go. I have no intention of using it. You must know that. You have seen me kill your accomplices. That staff is the last magical item in the world. Its powers have already effected you. Once you give it to me you will be able to teleport out of this god forsaken place.Just give me the staff!"

The wounded manturned around for a moment, as if considering the opportunity, but then turned back and continued clambering, almost reaching the top of the mountain. " I only have to get up here . . . I have no chance of living, but . . . ."

His gash only got worse. Blood stained the stone as he ascended to the flatter space. As he stood there he looked back at his pursuer. Seeing that the prey had finally gotten to the peak of the cliff, he sped up, leaping from stone to stone.

The magician looked down at the murderer he plunged his staff into the very rock he stood upon.

" Into the cliff, into the stone,
I relinquish that which is my own,
From power to land, land to power,
Entomb my body in this hour"

" No!!!!!!!!!!!" came the cry of the killer, using his weapon to get a better grip on the rocky outlook.

" Protect the staff within the earth,
May gargoyles protect it until the birth,
Of a boy whose power matches no other,
Whose blood comes from that which is my brother,
natural talent for the magical art,
causes society to shun him from the start,
To my crystal cavern he will be drawn,
Claiming my staff at the time of dawn,
Creatures love him, magic vows,
To make him the best, all others bow,
Until this time my staff but weeps,
This land will be where magic seeps,

Gruesome protectors of illusion,
Denizens of night,
For the less enlightened,
There will be no light"
The would-be-assassin reached the peak just as the magician finished working his spell. From the land the powerful man stood burst thousnads of crystals. Rushing forth to seal away the staff and the wizard.

" The last item!" spluttered the killer.
The staff in the Earth twinkled and claimed the blood money the wizard had set for it. His life sparkled from his body in thin strands of gold, emnating from his heart. As the body fell back, a crystalline coffin entombed him. The staff then proceded to do what was set about for it. And transformed the assassin into one of its own. A new species. He yelled in horror as the change occured.

His dark hair dark hair grew until waist-length. Thick, ebony horns grew untilthey curled at his back. His skin gradually turned black. Leaving only a few things a brilliant white, His teeth and his now inches long nails. The nose upo his face receded into his head until it no-longer existed. His irises turned a deep golden color. His memory was wiped.

The staff had claimed its first victim carrying out the will of its last pocessor.