Who Stole Breaker's Boots?

The sun bowed beneath the horizon off the western coast of Corone. Breaker rose in darkness, his deified gaze penetrating the gloom.

I'm alive.

The realization left him confused, but grateful. Even with his memories of his visit to the Thayne-realm shattered, he knew he had visited.

He recalled little more than sounds and colors, but he knew where those memories came from.

Breaker took a deep breath and steadied his stance. The turbulent voyage between realms nearly sundered his will.

He had appeared on Althanas on the edge of a cliff. Far away, he saw the sun disappear behind the curvature of the ocean.

He had departed in winter. Now, the heat of the summer sun radiated from the rocks into his bare feet.

How long was I gone?

That and many other questions echoed in his mind, but one stood out from the jumble.

Who stole my boots?

Breaker padded down the mountainside. His bare feet did not feel the sharp edges of the hard rocks beneath. They beat a relentless rhythm over stone and moss alike, driving him ever downwards until he glimpsed a smoke plume in the distance.
Breaker followed the plume to a town that was more village than city.

A few tall structures dominated the skyline, including a church that dwarfed its neighbors at just over five stories. Smaller buildings surrounded the main attraction, most with shale shingle roof tiles that showed significant wear.

Breaker wandered to the center of the village, feet sinking into the muck that likely swamped the roads through most of the year.

No one else stirred.

The buildings had few windows but most remained lit, shining out over empty streets.

It seemed strange. While the sky frowned an overcast gray, the sun had fully risen above the horizon. Someone should have been up and about.

Breaker's head throbbed and his vision blurred. The sudden pain disoriented him yet he spun around, focusing on his other senses as a haze filled his eyes.

"Who's there?" he shouted.

Someone nearby was focusing their considerable magical might on rendering him unconscious.

The haze cleared from Breaker's eyes, and he stared into a frostbite blue gaze.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Across the square stood a muscular dark-haired man with a scar on his left cheek.

Breaker tilted his head in curiosity. Where have I seen that scar before?

"My name is not important," the man's retort struck him on the wind, hard and cold as the wall of glacier. His eyes narrowed, his stare strong enough to pierce steel. "But you are the most powerful man in all of Corone."

"So I've been told," Breaker said. "Who am I to you?"

A smirk ghosted across the man's face. "A challenge," he said, and reached into his jacket.

Breaker crouched low, searching for shelter and finding himself stranded in the middle of the square. His adversary was closer to the nearest building - the church - and armed with...

Black metal kissed the air as the man drew a short-barreled firearm. Breaker blinked and shook his head. I know I've seen that gun before...

"Are you just going to stand there?" The man asked as the sidearm cleared his jacket. And then he snapped into a shooting stance and squeezed the trigger.