The mayor was roused from sleep by the town elder. The elder was wiser than any who lived there, and thought privy to the unknowable secrets of the universe. The panic in his eyes scared the mayor. Strangers had arrived, said the elder. Nine strangers, as the prophecy foretold. The mayor’s eyes widened. The prophecy was just a story. A fairytale from days long past, a joke among the teenagers. The elder shook his head forlornly. He assured the mayor it was real, very real, very dangerous. The mayor was at a loss for words. He asked the elder what to do.
The elder had come prepared. He pulled out three ancient tomes from within his long, patched cloak. They were marked with age, and indistinguishable from one another. The nine strangers did not yet know each other, explained the elder, but that did not matter. These tomes held magic powers; each, when read from, would alter the strangers to fulfill the prophecy, to begin the process that would save or destroy them all. The mayor was to bring the nine strangers together, then let them have it out in a days-long battle of wits and wills. The books would seal the pact, and ensure through arcane rites that the fate of the town was tied incontrovertibly to that of the strangers.
The mayor asked what would happen if he refused to play along with this game destiny forced on him. The elder’s cackle was unsettling, and told the mayor all he needed to know.
"Choose wisely," said the elder, his grin toothless and invisible beneath his beard. "All of Scumland will burn if you don’t."
Modern Trio