Slums of Arcadia.
The rain poured down, violently hitting the pavement of the dirty streets. A small mouse frantically scurried into an alleyway, dodging the steps of the Arcadian denizens. Raven watched the tiny creature’s steps curiously, intrigued by its actions.
“There is much desperation in Arcadia these days. The gods haven’t made life easy. Crime, starvation, poverty…all important tenants of our current society. In times like this, some of us learn to improvise, to scavenge…like my little friend down there.”
The tiny mouse sniffed around, plundering for any morsel of food that may have been left. It would seemingly grab something, place the item in a hiding space, then continue the hunt. Raven made a slight movement, causing the mouse to run. When silence returned, the small creature returned to its work.
“A scavenger is an interesting sort. Their moves must be precise. There is no surplus of rations, no abundance of resources. Nothing is retrieved by its own volition. The scavenger waits in the shadows, allowing the larger predators first pass. Once gone, they scurry into the light, hoping by some miracle that something of value remains,” Raven states softly, his eyes fixated on the movements of the creature.
“What is it that you covet, Mr. Fury? Do you seek the shovel of Tombstone? Perhaps the top hat of the curious Mr. Way. Or do you seek the precious gold wrapped around the waist of the Uprising’s diabolical leader? What is it that you seek? I’m curious how long you dwell in the shadows waiting the alphas to pass? Perhaps there may be something of value left.”
The mouse continued its actions, deliberately finding particles of food. A smile began to form across the painted face of the man know as Vengeance. A loud shriek suddenly filled the night sky as a raven approached from the stormy heavens. It pounced upon the small creature, digging its claws within its body. After a few moments, the mouse’s body went limp.
“We now come to the problem with the scavenger, Mr. Fury. They become so preoccupied with the pursuit that they fail to see what may be lurking from above. Their eyes become so fixated on the trinket of their desire that they miss the predator that may be hiding in the shadows, awaiting the perfect time to strike. OSW is filled with predators such as these, Mr. Fury.”
The raven pecked at the flesh of the mouse, squawking periodically between “bites.”
“I’ve watched from above as you’ve cautiously made your way around OSW, Mr. Fury. Last week, you were successful in adding something to your collection, something representing strict discipline, I presume. But your desperation weakens you. Know this, Mr. Fury, I will not contribute to your collection. This week, you will meet your first predator of OSW. Your destruction will take place outside the shadows you so desperately sought to remain in. The truth is, you’re already dead, you just don’t know it. What you seek is unobtainable. All your aspirations will be devoured, destroyed by your inability to mind your surroundings. Quote the Raven, nevermore.”