Theo stood above them, both physically (as he was on a roof), and because of with his higher standing in society. The villagers were tiny black dots, as they scuttled from house to house. He was perched atop of the guild building, his feet gliding in the air as his body rocked with each passing breeze. Standing up, he lifted his arms to his side and belted a laugh. For he was more than them, he would rule them all –
“God damn it,” he screamed, as a passing wind pushed him off-balance. It would be okay, he was still the mighty Theo – crap, his foot landed poorly on the sliding tiles, causing him to trip. Falling off the roof he screamed in rage, what indignity for a mage to fall, he thought.