“Everyone! Listen up!” A man with greying hair yelled to an audience of what appeared to be royal soldiers. They were the Monte Cristons.

“We have word from the Seekers,” the man proclaimed as the audience began to halt their chatter to eachother. The seekers were important.

“The Seekers have informed us of the new location of the Phoenix Soul.” There were hushed gasps in the crowd.
“The Soul has reincarnated in Dexterity.”
At this, the crowd’s voices roared with yells, shouts, profane comments, and objections. So many things were being said at once that deciphering any of it would have been impossible.

Dexterity was a country of outlaws. Uncivilized and in a constant civil war. It was mostly blockaded from the rest of the world, although the walls had begun to degrade. Hundreds of years a go, Dexterity had been established to throw all the most dangerous and most vicious criminals into. Over time, the country had developed into its own community, established its own government. It even had public schools. However, it was years behind the civilization of other countries. It didn’t have half the technology of the others, and that alone made the country a world of its own.
Needless to say, no one wanted to go there.

“Calm down!” The speaker shouted, pounding his fist on his podium. “Calm yourselves!”
The clamor of the audience began to cease. That was, until one man spoke above the crowd.

“Can we not simply leave her there?” the anonymous man questioned. “If she self detonates, the country will be destroyed.”

The old man behind the podium frowned. “Are you suggesting, Oberon, that Dexterity must be destroyed?” The room went quiet.

“I am merely implying, Sir, that the world may be no worse if we did not pursue this particular reincarnation,” The younger man named Oberon replied.

The older man gasped with disgust.
“Are we not Monte Cristons?” he shouted.
“Is it not our duty to our country to save any country or city from the curse of the Phoenix?! Our very nation was founded on the task!” The room remained quiet as a look of disparity reigned from the crowd.

“We have dedicated our lives to stop the Prophecies,” the old man continued, his hands gripping the podium with such strength that his knuckles had turned white.
“Even if it includes a country we may not be particularly fond of, it is our duty to protect them from this Soul. And it is our honor that will allow us to continue our venture – to accomplish our mission – to kill the Phoenix Soul!” The man behind the podium glared at his citizens.
“Now who will go to this foreign land to collect the Phoenix? Who will brave Dexterity?”

The crowd began to murmur again. It was clear none of them wanted to leave the country of Monte Cristo.

Infuriated, the speaker began to scream. “It is the duty of the Monte Cristons to–”

One man stepped forward through the crowd. “I will do it,” he stated, interrupting the speaker. He was wearing a white long sleeved shirt, black vest with gold trim, black pants and a cape of the same color. His shoes were black with gold toes, and he carried a golden hilted rapier inside an ornate scabbard at his side.

“I will go to Dexterity.”

His name was Edmond Dantes.