OoC said:Prologue: Here
Fujimoto Shiro had been wandering the city for quite some time it appeared. Street lamps now illuminated the city with a greater luminosity than the sky was providing. A slight chill was starting to coalesce as Shiro threw on a tanned and roughly patched animal hide jacket. It was thin and looked ratty, but it broke the wind and provided him with a little bit of extra comfort.
Shiro came upon a vast and architecturally complex building, the Bibliotheca Conscientiae. He had a feeling this place was a repository for a vast amount of knowledge. Here he would begin his path to become a scholar-warrior. His prior embarrassment would be but a grain of sand in the desert of his lifespan; a single misstep down the pathway of years. He stepped inside and began to wander once more.
After what felt like hours of meandering, he came upon a text that spoke to him. It seemed to be quite an old book, and one that had been read quite infrequently. It was the tale of a man who lived in a far distant village who created a humanoid creature out of wood and clay. He transferred life energy into this creature, and its purpose was to protect the city's inhabitants from an evil occupying force. Every night, the creator granted his golem some of his life force and sent it off to roam the streets. It would protect the locals and brutally punish the oppressors night after night, and in the early morning it would return to the man's house. The man would take his life force back and go about his business, repeating the cycle.
Eventually, the occupying force tracked the beast back to its den. They saw the man sap the energy out of the creature. They put the pieces of the puzzle together, and moved in for the kill. The story goes that the old man, in his final moments, transferred his remaining life energy into his creation and told it to escape. It is said that the golem can still be seen wandering the streets of a long forgotten village, protecting long dead inhabitants from a nonexistent occupier.
Fujimoto Shiro was taken by the story. *Was this magic?* he thought. *Where can this power come from?* This text was written in a very historical manner, surely there must be some truth to it. He set the book down and strode out onto the front steps of the library.