The moon cast an eerie glow over the maze like alleys of the citie's market district, painting the cobblestone streets in shades of silver and shadow. Rayleigh, his cloak blending seamlessly with the night, moved with a silent grace belying his age. Beside him, Marco kept pace, his eyes darting from side to side, ever vigilant.
Their destination was a disreputable tavern known as The Crooked Crow, a haven for whispers and secrets. The tavern's dimly lit windows glowed with an ominous orange light, casting flickering shadows on the cobblestones. Inside, the air hung heavy with the scent of stale ale and unfulfilled promises.
Rayleigh pushed open the creaking door, a wave of raucous laughter and the clinking of tankards washing over him. The tavern was packed with a motley crew of characters: grimy mercenaries, furtive merchants, and wide-eyed maybe on the run travellers seeking refuge from the night.
He and Marco made their way through the crowd, their eyes searching for the broker. They found him slumped in a shadowy corner, a burly figure with a scarred face and a predatory grin. This was Finn Tronic, the elder of the infamous Tronic brothers, information brokers with a reputation for ruthlessness and a network of informants that stretched across the kingdom.
"Well, well, well," Finn drawled, his voice a gravelly rumble. "How can I be of service?"
Rayleigh wasted no time on pleasantries. "I need information," he said, his voice low and menacing. "About the Fourways Kingdom."
Finn's grin widened, revealing a row of yellowed teeth. "Ah, yes," he chuckled, "the massacre. A tragic affair, wouldn't you say?"
Rayleigh's eyes narrowed. "I'm not here for your commentary, Tronic. I want facts."
Finn leaned back, his fingers drumming on the table. "Facts are a commodity, my friend," he said, his eyes glinting with greed. "And they come at a price."
Rayleigh slid a pouch across the table, the clink of coins silencing the nearby conversations. Finn's eyes lit up, his fingers greedily snatching the pouch.
"Now we're talking," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The Fourways Kingdom was attacked by a force unlike any we've seen before. Superhumans, but their abilities beyond our comprehension. Apparently it was a highly effiecient army. We hear they hit the king first before getting to the rest of the kingdom."
Rayleigh's jaw tightened. "Who are they? Where did they come from?"
Finn shrugged, his grin widening. "No one knows for sure. They appeared out of nowhere, like a plague of locusts. But one thing's for certain: they mean't business. I can't imagine what actions would inspire such cruelty. Perhaps? Madness maybe."
"What about survivors?" Marco asked, his voice filled with concern. "Were there any?"
Finn shook his head. "None that we know of. It was a total massacre. They say the kingdom is a wasteland now, a graveyard of ashes and despair."
'He is right, I saw it. It's a scene straight from hell.' Thought Ray. 'Still this is information everyone knows.'
Rayleigh's fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms. The image of Linley, his beloved grandson, flashed before his eyes. A young man, so full of life and promise, now reduced to ashes.
"I need to know more," Rayleigh growled, his voice barely controlled yet measured, spoken with confidence. "Who led this army of superhumans? What do they want?"
Finn leaned in, his breath hot against Rayleigh's face. "That information will cost you dearly, old man," he hissed. "But if you're willing to pay..."
Rayleigh met Finn's gaze, his eyes showing exasperation, he had already resolved to pay for whatever information he could get. "Name your price, Tronic," he said, his voice a low growl. "I'll pay you well."
Finn's grin widened, a predator sensing weakness in its prey. "Double the price," he added, his eyes glittering with avarice. "This information is highly sought after, and I take risks providing it."
Rayleigh, however, remained unfazed. His resolve hardened with every revelation, his thirst for vengeance eclipsing any monetary concern. "Done," he said, his voice a steel blade cutting through the smoky air.
Finn leaned back, seemingly satisfied with the agreement. "Very well," he began, his tone shifting to a more serious one. "The creatures that attacked the Fourways Kingdom weren't just any superhumans. They were Beastmen, not from any identifiable tribe. We've heard that the 6th captain of the Kingdom of Avalon has followed this armies tracks west. Not that their trying to hide it."
Rayleigh and Marco exchanged a look of surprise. Beastmen were creatures of the far west, in actuality another continent. Their Arrival on this side of the world is a long story. But one thing is for sure, they've been trying to crack the Eastern kingdoms for a long time. The centuries old border wars are proof of that.
"Beastmen?" Marco asked, his voice laced with skepticism. "Are you certain?"
"As certain as the sun rises in the east," Finn replied, his voice firm. "The Round Table has recovered several bodies. They're not human, nor are they any creature known from around here. Their bodies are a grotesque fusion of man and beast, their powers fueled by primal rage and bloodlust. Their aura was still fading from some of the dead bodies."
"Who leads them?" Rayleigh asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Finn hesitated, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "That information is... difficult to come by," he said, his voice tinged with fear. "The Beastmen are a secretive lot, their hierarchy shrouded in shadow."
Rayleigh sensed Finn's reluctance, but he also saw the fear in the man's eyes. He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "I need a name, Tronic. A starting point. Give me something to work with."
Finn swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "Rumours speak of a Beast King," he finally said, his voice barely audible. "A creature of immense power, said to be the leader of this invasion. Right now the surrounding kingdoms suspect the beastmen have united under a single being."
Rayleigh nodded, absorbing this new information. The Beast King. A name to focus his rage upon, someone who in his considerations was already a dead thing walking.
"One more thing," Rayleigh said, his voice low and dangerous. "I need to know where these Beastmen came from. How did they breach the border barrier?"
Finn's face paled, his eyes wide with terror. "I don't know," he stammered. "That information is beyond my reach. A shaman is suspect to have been involved in this."
Rayleigh stood, his chair scraping against the floor with a jarring screech. He leaned over the table, his face inches from Finn's. "This Beast King or whatever will find that he isn't beyond the reach of my sword" he growled, "I will find out what's really happening here. And when I do, those responsible for grandson's death will pay."
"You plan to do something about it?" Asked Finn, catching on to the essence of why the old man needed this information.
"What I do with this information doesn't matter to you anyway." Responded Ray. "Let's god Marco"
He turned and strode out of the tavern, Marco following close behind. The night air was cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the burning rage that consumed him. He had a name now, a target. The hunt for the Beast King was taking shape. And his vengeance was turning from dust to smoke