The Story of Azoth

1 out of 1,000,000 people are born with a power called magic. Magic comes alive when you turn 18 and when that happens it finds your deepest ambition and makes it a reality. So if I were to really want the power to never die, then I would then presume that ability of Immortality; however, since the chances of receiving this ability are slim nobody takes it seriously and on their 18th birthday they never truly want anything amazing. My favorite magic user is #6 - Merialus, his deepest desire was to make anybody love him (and I don't mean love him the way you probably think, they don't want to be married or even date each other, rather something else that you can probably imagine.) Whenever someone is found with the ability to produce magic they get a number, there are currently 10 known numbers.

Anyways, I'm deviating from the main story of me, speaking of which I should probably introduce myself. My name is Azoth, a child of two shitheads that left their child for death. I live in my own Necropolis of all the people I've slain as contracts. They're the only ones I can trust.. dead people don't betray you. My contractor is an old man that owns the grave site I sleep at. He's bald with a scar over his left eye, it's apparent that he's been fighting in wars against "The Freezers" which is a group of goblins trying to terrorize the human race. There are good goblins too; however, it is very rare to actually find one that doesn't have some reason to hate humans as we're generally a savage race that discriminates against anything that isn't human.

"Azoth? are you in there?"

That would be my contractor here to give me an assignment

"Yeah - who is it this time"

"Imi"

Imi is the lord of our town, Peaksound.

"How much?"

"Two thousand"

My heart stops for a second... "Consider them gone, dig a new one while I'm out - I'll return with the head"

My old man requires me to decapitate them and bring the head as proof of the deed, but that doesn't bother me anymore, what does bother me is the two thousand coins I'm getting for such an unprotected target. She's nice to the rich and poor, I can't imagine anybody wanted her dead. Maybe an old feud? I don't know why I'm getting into it too much, with two thousand coins I can hire a sailsman to take me away from this cursed place. As always I check my gear and make sure my dagger is on me along with my rigid bone knife which I use to cut off the heads, I climb out of the grave I was resting in with my last contract since his body hasn't decayed yet and stretch my body.

Time to kill my lord.