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The hot summer sun blazed white upon the training field. The dirt below me, still imprinted with the imprint of a hundred footprints, had dried to a dusty powder that churned beneath my scuffing limbs. Some recruits might complain of such an environment, but not I, a dark-skinned drow accustomed to the heat and fury of volcanic wastes – not I, who was known as Zaiva, the greatest assassin in the Order of the Scorpion. Yet even so, sweat shone from my rippling limbs like purple rocks from a riverbed, and I had to shield my eyes from the glint of sunlight from arms and armour worn by the throng of onlookers surrounding me – surrounding us, as I wrestled against a half-orc twice my size. What was his name? It mattered little to me. He was a newer assassin fresh out of training and allegedly three hundred pounds of raw, untalented meat. He’d been bragging of his size and strength for days, wagering bets that he could out-wrestle any veteran, and as his purse

As you settle into the familiar comfort of your friend's living room for the much-anticipated LAN party, excitement bubbles within you. It’s been forever since you all could spend time together. Your eyes dart eagerly over the array of snacks laid out on the coffee table – big bags of crisps, candies, and various sugary delights. The soft glow of computer screens illuminates the room, casting a warm ambiance. The night begins innocently enough, with spirited gaming sessions and intermittent breaks for snacks. Laughter fills the air as you and your friends immerse yourselves in virtual battles. You reach for a handful of chips here, a cookie or two there, hardly noticing as the hours slip away in a blur of excitement. As the evening progresses, so does the temptation of excess. What started as casual snacking soon escalates into a full-blown feast. Pizza boxes pile up, each slice disappearing faster than the last. Greasy fingers reach for more, unable to resist the allure of cheesy