Provided by: Templar

Chloe loved her job. As far as she was concerned, it was the perfect job. She had been hired right out of college by a big, New York law firm. They paid for her apartment, she got a great salary, excellent benefits, and all she had to do was carry around a cellphone. They had told her that the phone linked her to an important client, and that she would need to be on call to help that customer out. They also told her, however, that the client only came to town once or twice a year. So she made sure the cell was always charged up, and with her, but other then that Chloe was able to do whatever she wanted with her time.

It was a typical Tuesday. Chloe puttered around the her apartment for a few hours in the morning, eating some oatmeal and watching the morning news shows, then headed down to the gym, and a late lunch with her friend Dani. They were about halfway through their salads when a beeping noise came from Chloe's purse. It was the phone. For the first time since she had been hired, it rang.

"Its simple - you start with 'Hi, my name is Nick.'"

The young man frowned. "Funny. She probably doesn't even speak English."

"You wanted to experience the world, time to work on foreign relations!" Carter pushed his friend forward.

"How much was the tab?"

"Three million won," the little matron said with a small dip of her head.

Nick had to collect his jaw from the floor before he spoke. "Three million? I'm sorry there must be some mistake." He glanced towards his friends and scowled.

The weathered miner's hard brown eyes narrowed, and with a blur of motion he sunk a knife into the table near the pile of coins. All the conversation within earshot died. A growl escaped his lips, and it took a second for the table to realize he was asking a question. "How come every time you need a card to beat me, it always shows up on the river? Somethin don't smell right, boy."

Provided by: Templar

Jake and his family had come to the beach for vacation, but it had been raining the entire time they were there. After two days of sitting around listening to his wife and daughter complain about the weather, Jake decided to take a walk. It was a typical small, seaside town; video arcades, seafood restaurants, and nautical themed taverns. He found a small strip mall with a dry-cleaner, bookstore, and deli, and decided to buy a book and a sandwich.

The bookstore was small, quiet, and a bit dark. There was a little old lady with her nose buried in a romance novel, behind the counter. He wandered through the shelves, not looking for anything in particular. A leather bound book sitting along high up on a shelf caught his eye. The titled was "My Life: An Autobiography" by J. P. Smith.

"Jacob Philip Smith was born in Providence, Rhode Island on October 13, 1969. His father, Philip Smith, worked as an insurance agent, and his mother Sarah was a homemaker. Jacob was the oldest of three children..."

Jake found his hands beginning to shake as he flipped toward the end of the book. This was his autobiography, his life, and he had no idea who wrote it, or how the book ended.

The archmagi wrapped the tip of his staff on the marble floor, the runes that covered the gnarled artifact blazed sliver. "We will begin!" The seven judges standing in a rough circle began to intone and a curtain of mystical energy blossomed to life.

"I won't!" Nick set his jaw and shook his head once.

Lane smirked at the young man's ire, a gleam dancing in the corners of his eyes. "Well, Nicky, I don't see how you have any say in the matter."