Leviathan shoved open the creaking tavern door, the weight of it groaning in protest. A wave of noise and stench assaulted him as he stepped inside. Dim candlelight cast flickering shadows across the rough-hewn wooden tables, occupied by a motley crew of patrons.
The air hung heavy with the smell of stale ale, sweat, and something vaguely acrid that made Rayden, who followed close behind, grimace in disgust. Raucous laughter mingled with the rhythmic clinking of mugs and the slurred shouts of drunken arguments. A lute player strummed a discordant melody in the corner, barely audible over the din.
Leviathan, unfazed by the cacophony, scanned the room with his sharp eyes. Smokestained tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of dubious taste and questionable artistic merit. A greasy log fire crackled in the hearth, casting an orange glow on the faces of the patrons, most of whom eyed the newcomers with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
Rayden pulled his cloak tighter around himself, his nose wrinkled in distaste. He clearly wasn't accustomed to such rough establishments, a stark contrast to the opulent halls of the castle he usually inhabited.
Leviathan ignored his companion's discomfort. He had a purpose here, and the pungent air and boisterous crowd wouldn't deter him. He strode towards the bar, a weathered oak monstrosity presided over by a burly barkeep with a shaved head and a missing eye.
"Two ales," Leviathan announced, his voice cutting through the din. The barkeep grunted, his gaze flickering from Leviathan to Rayden, then back again. He slid two chipped mugs across the bar, the amber liquid sloshing precariously at the brim.
Leviathan tossed a coin on the counter, the sound swallowed by the noise. He grabbed a mug, the cool ceramic a welcome relief against the clammy heat of the tavern. He took a swig, the bitter ale burning a welcome path down his throat.
Rayden leaned in conspiratorially, his voice barely audible over the tavern roar. "Lord Leviathan," he hissed, "we're not here for a leisurely drink. We have shadows to investigate, remember?"
Leviathan cast a fleeting glance at Rayden, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. With a sigh, he set the half-finished mug back down on the counter, the ceramic clinking against the worn wood. The barkeep, eyeing their exchange with suspicion, wiped down a mug with a rag.
Rayden, ever the fastidious one, scanned the room furtively. His eyes darted from table to table, searching for any sign of the 'shadowy creatures' they were supposed to be investigating. "But how do we even know what we're looking for?" he whispered, frustration creeping into his voice. "Lord Azrael's message was vague at best."
Leviathan shrugged, a gesture that seemed almost nonchalant in the dimly lit tavern. "They can shapeshift, Rayden," he explained, his voice a low murmur. "Take the form of humans, animals, anything that suits their purpose."
Rayden's brow furrowed. "Anyone? That could be anyone in this room then!" he exclaimed, his voice rising slightly above a whisper. A few patrons at a nearby table turned to glare at them, their faces obscured by the flickering candlelight.
Leviathan silenced him with a sharp look. "Lower your voice, you fool," he hissed, his tone laced with annoyance. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves." He scanned the room once more.
Leviathan's attention drifted away from Rayden's hushed conversation with the hooded figures. His gaze snagged on a lone man stationed by a darkened corner. The man seemed to be deliberately shrouded in shadow, yet his piercing gaze was fixed directly on Leviathan.
The moment passed as the man's attention flickered towards the stage. A woman, her scarlet dress clinging to her curves, belted out a bawdy tavern song, her voice husky and alluring. As she reached the end of the verse, her eyes, painted with kohl, locked with Leviathan's for a fleeting second. A spark of something unreadable passed between them before she resumed her performance, a provocative smile playing on her lips.
Rayden, oblivious to the silent exchange, noticed Leviathan's focus shift. He leaned in, a sly smirk twisting his features. "Bored with the shadows already, milord?" he snickered. "Seems the entertainment back at your manor wasn't enough to quench your thirst."
Leviathan ignored the jab, his gaze unwavering as the woman finished her song. With a practiced shimmy, she descended from the stage and made a beeline towards their corner. Her movements were purposeful, a predator closing in on its prey.
As she neared, the scent of jasmine and something heady and intoxicating reached them. Her voice, a husky purr, broke the raucous din. "Well, well, well," she drawled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Two handsome gentlemen all alone. Care to buy a lady a drink?"
Rayden, ever the opportunist, puffed out his chest and straightened his clothes at the woman's approach. A suggestive smile spread across his face as he attempted a charming bow. "My dear lady," he began, his voice dripping with a forced gallantry, "it would be our absolute pleasure to offer you a drink, and perhaps even a bit of… company."
Leviathan, however, remained unfazed by Rayden's fumbling attempt at flirting. His gaze flickered between Rayden and the woman, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he sent a shower of coins clattering onto the counter, silencing Rayden mid-sentence. The barkeeper scooped up the coins and shoved a mug of ale towards the woman.
"Here you go, miss," he grunted, his voice devoid of warmth.
The woman took the mug with a practiced grace, her gaze flicking from Rayden's disappointed face to Leviathan's stoic expression. She took a sip of the ale, the movement purposeful, her eyes never leaving Leviathan. "Interesting," she purred, her voice a husky whisper. "It seems you gentlemen aren't here for mere entertainment. Perhaps… seeking something in particular?"
Leviathan finally met her gaze, his eyes unreadable. "Perhaps," he replied cryptically, his voice low and measured. He studied her with an intensity that made Rayden shift uncomfortably on his feet.
The woman, unabashed by his scrutiny, simply grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. "Secretive, are we?" she teased, her voice laced with amusement.
A ghost of a smile played on Leviathan's lips as he leaned back in his chair, a predator assessing his prey. "This isn't my first visit to this… establishment," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.
Rayden's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wait, you frequent this… tavern?" he stammered, his voice laced with disbelief.
Leviathan cut him off with a sharp glare, effectively silencing him mid-sentence. He turned back to the woman, his gaze fixed on her. "I believe we've met before, haven't we, Ruth?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.
The woman, who had been leaning against the counter with an air of casual confidence, suddenly stilled. The playful smile vanished from her face, replaced by a flicker of something akin to fear. Her eyes widened a fraction, the facade of the alluring tavern singer cracking for a brief moment.
The air crackled with a sudden tension so thick it felt like a physical presence. Leviathan's hand shot out with lightning speed, a glint of cold steel flashing in the dim tavern light. A dagger, materialized from nowhere, pressed itself against Ruth's throat, drawing a sharp gasp from her.
But it wasn't a human gasp. It was a sound that sent shivers down Rayden's spine, a high-pitched screech that echoed with a primal, inhuman quality. Ruth's facade shattered completely, her face contorting into a mask of rage and pain. Her previously alluring eyes glowed with a malevolent red light, fangs erupting from her gums in a grotesque display.
"You vile creature!" she shrieked, her voice no longer alluring but a guttural rasp. "You will pay for this!"
Rayden, frozen in horror, stammered, "M-Milord! What are you doing? She's… she's one of them!" He pointed a shaky finger at the now monstrous woman, his eyes wide with terror.
The sudden commotion didn't go unnoticed. Patrons in the surrounding tables, who had previously seemed like ordinary tavern-goers, began to stir. Their features shifted, contorting into inhuman visages. Sharp claws emerged from beneath cloaks, glowing red eyes burning through the smoky haze.
Leviathan, however, remained unfazed by the transformation or Rayden's panicked outburst. A cruel smile played on his lips as he leaned closer to Ruth, his voice dripping with icy venom. "So, the shadows finally reveal themselves," he hissed. "And here I thought I was just buying a drink for an old… friend."
The surrounding creatures snarled and growled, their voices a cacophony of guttural threats. They began to inch closer, circling the two figures like hungry wolves. Rayden, finally regaining a semblance of composure, drew his sword, his face pale but determined.
A primal snarl ripped from Leviathan's throat as he twisted the woman's head with unnatural speed. A sickening crack echoed through the tavern as her neck snapped, the inhuman shriek cut short. Her body crumpled to the floor, lifeless, the red glow in her eyes fading to a dull emptiness.
The facade of the tavern shattered. Rayden, unused to such violence, stumbled back, his sword clattering to the floor with a metallic clang. Fear choked his voice, his bravado replaced by a primal urge to flee.
But Leviathan stood firm, a predator facing a pack of ravenous wolves. He met their charge head-on. His fist, imbued with unnatural strength, slammed into the jaw of the first creature, sending it flying across the room with a sickening thud. Its inhuman screech mingled with the cacophony of growls and snarls as the others descended upon him.
He moved with a brutal grace, a whirlwind of fists and elbows. One creature lunged, its claws aimed for his throat. Leviathan ducked, the razor-sharp talons slashing past his ear. He countered with a swift kick, sending the creature sprawling into a nearby table, shattering wooden mugs and sending ale flying.
Rayden, witnessing Leviathan's ruthless efficiency, slowly regained his composure. Shame burned hot at his cheeks for his momentary cowardice. He scrambled to retrieve his sword, the polished metal a beacon of hope in the dim, blood-stained tavern.
With a shaky breath, he lunged at the nearest creature, its glowing eyes locked on Leviathan. He brought his sword down in a clumsy but determined swing, the blade connecting with the creature's shoulder. A surprised yelp ripped from its throat as it stumbled back, clutching the wound.
Leviathan slammed the final creature's head onto the splintered countertop with a sickening crunch. The lifeless body twitched once, then lay still. The air, thick with the stench of blood and ozone, hung heavy in the ravaged tavern. Rayden, panting and covered in grime, leaned against a wall, his sword dripping crimson.
Leviathan straightened, his fangs retracted but his eyes still glowing with a predatory glint. He knelt beside the fallen creature, his gaze sharp. "Speak," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Why is your kind suddenly interested in this kingdom?"
The creature, though battered and broken, managed a weak snarl. "We've come for someone," it rasped, its voice a grotesque parody of a human whisper.
Leviathan's grip tightened, his claws digging into the creature's cheek. "Who?" he hissed, his voice tight with urgency.
The creature cackled, a sound that sent shivers down Rayden's spine. "What's the fun of telling you, hell creature?" it taunted, its voice laced with a twisted amusement. "Let's just say your precious kingdom is about to get a whole lot more interesting."
Leviathan clicked his tongue, his expression a mask of annoyance. "You are miserable," he muttered. He wasted no further time. With a swift movement, he slammed the creature's head down onto the counter once more, the sickening crack echoing through the silent tavern. The creature's lifeless body twitched for a final time before going still.
Rayden watched the scene unfold, a mixture of disgust and morbid fascination warring within him. He sheathed his sword, its polished surface reflecting the carnage around them.
Leviathan rose to his full height, his eyes scanning the now empty room. He let out a long, slow breath, the sound heavy with exhaustion.
Rayden followed close behind, the weight of the creature's words hanging heavy in the air. As they stepped out into the cool night air, the faint glow of the rising moon casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets, one thing was certain: the shadows had revealed themselves, and the true battle had only just begun.