He leant forwards, straining his eyes against the darkness as the candle beside him flickered. Shadows danced across the wall, running and darting about like frightened animals. He dipped his quill into the ink and started to write.

Dragons are not like us. They are cunning. There is no way to know if a dragon is truly good or wicked until it is too late.

The ceiling above him shuddered, dust falling down around him. He sighed and started to write faster.

I have made a mistake, and know I am sorry. Alert my next of kin, where ever they may be and begin their training. To those at the guild office, my last will and testament is located in vault 117 at the Penen county bank, Penen town.

"Show yourself old man!" A voice boomed, deep and rasping. "I know where you hide. I know what you have done. I can smell the sins crawling across your withered back."

Know I am truly sorry for my actions and I seek mercy with the souls of those who have died as a result. May Meden be kind when he receives my life.

Hatchet.

He fumbled with his bag, throwing the paper inside seconds before everything exploded in a frenzy of orange and red.