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Emma laughed out loud at the high wizard's response to her inquiry. The foolish oaf really believed that he had the legendary Font of Imagination in his possession, never once considering that his was a forgery. The real font was not the magical marble fountain that he possessed, but rather a font of knowledge - a book, and its owner was none other than Emma herself.
For years she had hunted it. From the highest of mountains to the lowest of valleys, she had fought off fierce opponents and monsters of every kind in her pursuit. Atop an ancient elven temple, far to the north of the Land of Fire, she had found it. Made of pure ironbark, the book had weathered the years remarkably well.
To her surprise, she had not been the first to find it. It contained two previous entries, written in a language lost to history. Emma wondered what kind of calamities those entries had unleashed upon the world. She wondered how many people had lost their lives, and how many nations had collapsed with the simple swipe of a quill.
Soon she would add to its pages.
Taking her quill in hand, she paused momentarily to gather her thoughts. To her delight, a twisted prophecy came to the fore of her mind. The idiot wizard Magnus had at least partially inspired it.
From the deepest depths of the underworld, they will emerge with a thirst for blood. With no remorse, they will slaughter women and children for sport and feast on the flesh of the armies that stand against them. Not even fire will slow their march. As the end draws near, darkness itself will envelop the land, bringing with it a new order of reality divorced from the old.
Content with her entry, she smiled, and closed the book shut. Revenge was a funny thing. Only a few people had wronged her, but now all of humanity would share in her pain. How exhilarating it was for her to make people suffer.
With a red and white glow, the book begged for an offering. Emma had prepared herself for this moment. No goat or baby would do, the book demanded something more powerful.
Lying the book carefully on the ground, she said one final incantation and then stood over top the growing magic dissonance. Without hesitation, it gorged itself on her flesh, loosing her creation on the world.