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The Flailmaster - Part 1

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With a sharp intake of breath, Jasper pushed the ancient golden key into the chest's lock. As he twisted, the rusted chains fell off with a clank.

His breath hissing between his teeth, he creaked open the lid. It glimmered in the faint torchlight on the walls.

Inside were various potions, stacked in rows, and coins lining the bottom of the chest. There was something else, too, glimmering a faint blue. But there was an ancient scroll on top of it.

Jasper picked up the scroll, turned it over and read it. It displayed its message in worn, old text:

He who wields this flail

Will bring change to the land of Terraria

And if he fails

Doom it all

Jasper read it and considered. He shook his head. What could an old scroll do? He had never heard of a prophecy being given in Terraria before. Silver and his friends hadn't known they would be heroes, and Gray had just tried to make everything right in his own way. Ignis had had big dreams, and Terra was given his fate vocally. No one had been given a prophecy before, written or otherwise.

Behind the warrior, a crack sounded, that of a skeleton creeping across bricks.

Without thinking, Jasper spun, stabbing the monster in the bony ribcage with his Light's Bane. It had become reflex down here in the hellish Dungeon.

It wasn't enough to dispatch the monster. It grabbed his blade and inched forwards, putting its face in that of the petrified man. "If they had opened this chest, they would have left well enough alone. You're unworthy of being a hero," it hissed, barely audible, in an evil voice.

It crumpled in a pile of bones and died.

Shaken, Jasper just stared at its remains. He had never come that close to death before. And its warning... no matter. Skeletons lived to spread discord and fear.

He opened the chest, took out the scroll and tossed it aside. He lay his hands on the glittering blue weapon below it, and pulled it out, marveling at its density and power.

The Blue Moon has risen.

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