[Author’s Note: This is a cinematic scene written in screenplay style. It’s a teaser that introduces the tone and three core characters before the main story begins.]

  EXT. BRICK TOWN – OUTSKIRTS – DAWN

  A chill fog clings low to the blood-soaked ground. A small brick town, surrounded by cracked walls, lies broken in the golden haze of dawn. Slain soldiers. Broken carriages. Mud-caked shields and weapons scattered like old bones. A crow pecks at a bloated corpse.

  THUD.

  A heavy, armored boot steps into frame, sinking into the mud. The crow startles and takes flight. The camera stays low. Only a glimpse of an armored figure’s leg brushing past the dead.

  He walks slow and silent. Passes a corpse with a spear lodged in its chest—doesn’t stop. Just grabs it, yanks it free with a wet crunch, and keeps walking.

  The camera begins to pan up slowly—the silhouette of a tall, armored figure strides forward:

  HAL BLACKBIRD. Not yet fully revealed.

  As he reaches the gate, we move behind his shoulder. He places both hands on the massive wooden doors—smeared with dirt and dried blood—and leans into them. They creak open.

  HAL’S POV – INSIDE THE TOWN

  Over his shoulder we see bandits fill the square—drinking, shouting, looting. The chaos quiets as they all turn to face the armored figure pushing through the gate.

  Silence.

  Then: shouts. Movement. Weapons drawn. As they begin to charge so does Hal.

  But the crow suddenly swoops into frame, stealing our focus. The camera follows its flight path up and over the chaos, just as Hal collides with the first wave of bandits.

  CONTINUOUS – THROUGH THE TOWN

  The crow weaves through crumbling alleyways, low-slung roofs, and smoke trailing from smoldering beams. It glides upward toward a looming stone tower overlooking the square.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Landing on a scorched window frame, it turns its head.

  The camera glides inside.

  INT. TOWER – LONG DINING HALL

  The hall is a wreck of opulence and fire. A long banquet table stretches through the room. It’s covered in roasted meats, fruits, and goblets—half-eaten, overturned, still steaming.

  The camera floats down to the table. We track along the length

  scorch marks start to appear. Broken plates. Utensils melted. Flickers of fire still dancing. Then: a charcoaled corpse, slumped face-down in the pudding.

  At the far end, two boots—black, heavy, relaxed—rest on the edge of the table. We rotate behind the grand chair, a black robe hanging of it. Still no full reveal.

  From one side of the chair, a hand plays idly with flames. And from the other side: a few strands of blond hair, and part of pointy ear, peeks through.

  VAEL.

  Bandits pound on the door behind the camera. CRASH. The door slams open—bandits flood in.

  A sound. A glow.

  The camera turns slightly

  A torrent of fire explodes through the frame, consuming the hall—and the camera. We're thrown backward, out the tower window, as the upper floor ignites in a deafening roar.

  EXT. WOODED HILL OUTSIDE TOWN

  The camera, still reeling, follows the crow again as it cuts through smoke and sails toward the treeline at the town’s edge. The forest rises just above the walls, dark and quiet. Morning mist curls along the forest floor. The crow lands softly between two armored guards.

  Suddenly: rustling. Two thuds.

  The guards fall to the ground on either side of the bird—dead before they hit. The crow hops back to avoid the impact. The camera snakes through the underbrush into the dark.

  INT. FOREST – MOMENTS LATER

  Deeper in the shadows, the undergrowth is thick, silent. A pair of glowing, ghostly blue eyes pierce the shadows. We push in on them—unnatural, ancient, aware.

  THALOS HOLLOWGARD watches from the brush.

  The reflection in his eyes shows the silhouette of a ghostly child beside him. He listens for a moment—then shifts focus forward. A camera pan reveals a drawn arrow, bowstring pulled tight—aimed through the trees, perfectly still.

  Release.

  We follow the arrow through the trees— WHUMP.

  A bandit falls.

  WHUMP. WHUMP. WHUMP.

  Six fall in precise succession across rooftops, alleyways, and doorways—each one collapsing before they realize they’ve been hit.

  Crows burst from the rooftops, startled by the dead.

  The camera follows the crows upward, swirling into the sky.

  As they part away and clear the sky, the title: BLACKBIRD fades into the sky.

  A final caw. No music. Just the quiet wind of morning and the promise of death.