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The Race is On

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Ch. 1: Who is he?
Everyone wanted the scroll. Everyone could use the scroll. Everyone knew of the scroll. Everyone wanted the scroll. However, nobody knew where it was or how to find it, or if it truly even existed. The wielder of the scroll could obtain magics comparable to that of a human god, but finding it demanded one to require these godlike skills. One of the many pursuers of the magic scroll, known to all as the Scroll of Spell Mastery, was a human man of twenty-four years. He didn’t go by his given human names. Wizards had to exercise specificity in their practice or could face dire magical consequences be it someone damns them. For these purposes, he went by Sen’nin; this was his wizard name. He pulled out what was the most accurately detailed description of the scroll’s abilities from having gathered a respectable amount of research over 7 years traveling seas, hells, and planes. He looked it over, memorizing and updating it daily: Scroll of Spell Mastery: requires attunement.
This weathered scroll appears to be stained with the blood of many previous owners, while being used to store a spell the blood stains rearrange into the necessary sigils and runes needed to cast the stored spell effectively.
While attuned to this scroll, as an action, (or as a reaction when a spell is cast and the scroll is empty) you can present this scroll to a creature within 30 ft of you (including yourself) and cast a spell which the scroll then captures, no spell slot is expended when you cast a spell in this way. Once a spell is captured within the scroll you can expend a charge from the scroll to cast the spell at the level that it was cast before the scroll captured it. Every time you cast a spell from this scroll you take 1HP of necrotic damage that cannot be mitigated in any way, through either spells or resistances. This scroll has three charges, which it regains upon taking a short rest. The stored spells magic fades after completing a long rest or once 24 hours have passed.
The scroll was both said to exist and not exist, but overall it was regarded as a myth, and was worth more than money or gold could measure.
He knew more about the scroll than anyone in history dared come close to before. His fearless will and persistence were unyielding. But, even Sen’nin himself wasn’t entirely sure it existed. It seemed obscene. Unbelievable. There of course was the spell Wish, the Staff of the Magi, and the Eye of Vecna, but none of these quite measured up to the Scroll of Spell Mastery, a title coined by the wizard himself that was embraced throughout the lands. He was well known not only in his town or country, but throughout the multi-planes by scholars, thieves, bounty hunters, and merchants of all kinds. He had a reputation for cunning that wooed (or, rather, seduced) even the highest and fairest of entities including Laeral Silverhand of the Seven Sisters, Liriel Baenre, and Leanan Sidhe of the Unseelie Court. “Wooed” loosely suits how he truly engaged the women: he entered their bodies with his own. In his self-entitled “sexcapades” he never encountered rejection or dissatisfaction and couldn't even begin to imagine the one who’d consider him disenchanting. The few known lucky ladies bragged about their sexual encounters and would spread the news themselves. Sen’nin didn’t need that gratification from others, though. He fucked them because they were hot and worth it.
The relationships he’d forged maintained steady information retrieval on the scroll, and these relationships were also the foundations for his rising infamy. The newspapers labeled Sen under the pseudonym the Man of Mist. He was culturally accepted as the Man of Mist. He appeared in the papers a lot, oftentimes described as invincible, unstoppable, or persuasive and intelligent. He was definitely intimidating for those with a sense of self preservation, definitely handsome, though not many have truly studied his face. He really was a man of mist, appearing and disappearing like a foggy black cloud, never failing on any one mission.
Now, on this mission, it didn’t seem possible for him to fail; it ought to be easy. Sen’nin had been tracking a specific merchant wagon; he followed the small loaded cart into a village courtyard where some goblin raiders launched an attack in attempt to overtake the loaded wagon. Sen believed it possible that this wagon was transporting the Scroll of Spell Mastery. He thought to himself, those stupid raiders don’t know what they’re messing with, and he sprang atop the covered wagon and stood without a sound. His sword’s blade sliced a human-size slit precisely in the middle. He swung himself down into the cart and placed everything he could inside his Bag of Holding, being sure to leave behind items he knew weren’t the scroll. He leapt out of the hole he created only seconds ago and landed in a shaded tree branch to take inventory on the bag. What! Fucking dammit! He cursed the cargo load for turning out empty handed. The wizard glanced up in frustration, and spotted a young, blue Tiefling dash out of the driver's seat and into a hidden alleyway. She looked to have a bag clutched tightly to her torso, which was behavior enough to alarm Sen’nin.