From a dense forest on the mountainside, a shadow kept staring at the village near the foot of the mountain. Barely hiding his body with what looked like old rags, his body was covered with wounds that beggar all description.
Gazing at the village with his only eye, with tottering steps the shadow started to follow the path leading to the village at the foot of the mountain, while using a branch as a walking stick to support his only leg.
The people of that village followed a ritual of offering a sacrifice to the mountains in order to avoid disasters. This pitiful shadow had been this years sacrifice, and whereas it would normally have been impossible to come down from the mountain alive, after a desperate struggle he had barely managed to return here.
The man had turned into a demon of hatred who swore revenge on the villagers who did nothing but think of their own security while causing him to go through an ordeal like this. As he slowly walked towards the foot of the mountain, the dark flames of hatred were almost tangible from each of the steps he took while relying on his stick.
The villagers had thought that they had averted a disaster with the sacrifice, but now they were about to learn the true meaning of calamity.