A dry heat radiated off the blinding white desert sand as the midday sun beat down from a cloudless sky. A lone man stood before an ancient stone doorway half submerged within a sand dune, clad in but a simple purple coat and brown trousers. He bore not any of the traditional desert faring garb of the Falleni people, carried no pack with him, nor possessed any beast of burden to speak of. To the average observer, he was ill prepared and not long for this savage wasteland. However, this was no average man. This legendary hero had once slain a false goddess, traversed ancient ruins with ease, brought the wondrous joy of pizza to the land of Althanas, and even gotten married in the process.

This man was Vincent Cain, God Slayer, Pioneer Culinarian, and excellent husband. He was far from unprepared, he was slightly more prepared than usual in fact.

The young man quietly murmured to himself as his blue eyes traced over ancient wind beaten runes, hands planted firmly on his hips as if he were about to demand to speak to the doors manager. How dare these runes be in some ancient tongue long forgotten to the sands of time, they should have known better than to let the wind damage them to the point in which the scholar was forced to SQUINT at them, they could be assured he would be leaving them a scathing review on Yelp! that was for sure.

“Most unhelpful doors,” the man muttered in a mocking tone. “Super uninviting, created a real nasty vibe for the whole trip, I most assuredly will not be visiting this place again.” This entire monologue echoed through the empty landscape as the man trudged closer to the door, each step slightly labored as his shoes sunk into the sand. “They didn’t even have signs marking the way to the restroom.” He managed to reach the base of the massive doorway and placed a gloved hand on it, rubbing it over a groove that used to be one of the runes.

“All in all, I only managed to translate half of you, and based on all the cryptic warnings and half riddles I can only imagine I would have needed a keyword to open you up.” He gave the stone a gentle, reassuring pat. “But you don’t have a fucking lick of magical residue left on you so I can only imagine none of the would even work.” He took a couple steps back, looking this door up and down before cracking his neck. “Let’s give this a shot then. Been a bit since I used this trick.”

The scholar took a deep breath, fixed his gaze upon the door, and exhaled. He could feel power crackling deep within his chest, welling up as if it anticipated what he was about to do. He raised his right hand up, palm facing towards the door, and took another breath. The spark within his chest ignited into a flame, sending chills down his spine and goosebumps across his skin as the man spoke aloud in a tongue that transcended sound or even meaning, but instead pure intent left his lips as he gave the door one simple command.

“Open.”