Climb on the roof.

Looking around a bit you can see movement in the dark. “Fuck. I better get on the roof. But how?” You ask the air, as you do a lap of the building. There isn't any way you can see to climb up. “So I gotta jump?” It seems that is the case. It takes you seven tries as you leap at the ledge overhanging the edges of the building. Sadly you fail to pull yourself up. A little rest later and you decide to give it another try. Once, twice, finally on the third jump you catch the ledge and are able to pull up your foot. Struggling and scrambling you pull yourself up onto the roof. Panting you finally find yourself lying on your back on the roof looking up at the sky. The inky blackness with what at first look like stars, only to notice as you stare up, that they are actually massive creatures high above you, is quite unnerving.

As soon as you can get calmed down, you look around and find the small tent like structure on the roof that you can sleep under. You pull aside the flap and are quite surprised at what you find. Inside there is a comfy looking pair of large wool blankets, a 3' long sword in a brown leather wrapped scabbard. All you can see of the sword is that it seems to have a wide blade that might be a bit curved, a white wood or carved bone handle, with a silver hand guard and pommel. Last is a rather simple hand made backpack. Plopping down on the blanket you open the backpack to see what is inside. You find two wooden jugs with cork stoppers, both empty. A little box of tiny twigs, twine, little strips of paper, and a piece of rock you think is flint. A small thin dagger. A small spool of thin strong rope you would estimate at 25', with a small two forked hook at the end. Last you find another little wooden box. Pulling it open you see a few little brushes, some simple old looking makeup, mostly black, red, and some blue or purple, plus a silver comb and a small silver mirror. Tucking it all back away, you curl up in a ball between the blankets and drift off to sleep, the sounds of monsters screaming in the distance somehow a tiny bit comforting.

Morning comes all too soon, and you climb out and stretch, absentmindedly scratching your cock and balls as you step out of the little tent. A quick look up at the bright light of something huge overhead almost looks like the sun, if it didn't have a face in it. You do some quick exercises and stretching before you do anything else, knowing full well he is going to punish you again today. Then it hits you, despite all the punishment yesterday being tossed around, you aren't in any pain at all. “Cool.” You laugh, and head back to the tent to grab the sword. Drawing it from the scabbard you find the blade is in fact a bit curved, roughly 3” thick and maybe two and a half feet long, with holes cut out of it along the entire length on the back side of the single edged blade. The handle is long enough to use either one hand or two easily, and it is really not all that heavy, two or three pounds at most. Testing the blade, you find it shockingly sharp. Hell if you had any hair you could probably shave with it. You swing it around a bit and do some moves, not sure if you are actually remembering something, or if you are just an idiot, but it is fun.

A loud voice calls out from below. “Are you coming down? Or do I need to throw you off the roof?”

“Fuck it.” Running to the end you simply leap off of the roof doing a flip in the air in an attempt to hit the ground on your feet and roll with the impact, springing up after the roll. What happens is you vault off of the roof, do an amazing flip, land on your feet, spring forward, flipping around and landing facing back at the house in a crouch. The amazing thing, you didn't get hurt, you even flipped and landed much better than you expected. The bad, you dropped the sword when your hands hit the ground for the flip. Running forward you scoop up the sword and attack.

“Not bad.” He says as you fly at him, sword clenched in both hands. “Not good either.” He says as you swing, Reaching out he blocks the obvious swing with the side of his ax, with a clang, then with a single punch to your gut he doubles you over causing you to drop the sword and fall to the ground. “Try again.” Once you catch your breath you pick up the sword and try a more cautious slash, and jab. Once again you find yourself on the ground gasping for air. “Again.” This carries on for the entire day. Finally as the light fades he simply states, “Time to eat.” Picks up his ax, and heads inside.

“Ouch. I think you broke something.” You say as you limp after him, but as you scarf down the rather simple meal, you notice you really don't hurt. “Are you doing something to heal me?”

“Why do you ask?” He says, not looking up.

“Because I am not in any pain. I should be right?”

“I had a feeling you could regenerate. It is a power that will serve you well. Anything holy, or made of cold iron you will most likely not heal, but other than that, as long as you are alive, you will heal.”

“Even chopped off limbs?”

“In time yes.” He answers.

“Neat.” Supper ends once again with a bottle of wine and him kicking you outside. This is how you spend the next two months. Getting kicked around, eating simple food, and pondering the meaning of it all. He doesn't say much more on the treasure, or why he is here, but as the weeks pass you begin to think he is the last guardian and he is training you to fight him. If that is so, you will have to be here for years before you can hope to win, and you don't really know if that is what you want. Finally one night while eating you decide to ask, “So are you the third guard of the treasure?”

He stops eating but doesn't look up. “If you could have any weapon to use in a fight to defend your life, what would it be?”