The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the winding road that led to Purewood. A caravan of merchants trudged along, their carriages pulled by large, muscular tigers. The carriages, ten in total, creaked and swayed under the weight of goods meant for trade in Purewood. At the front of the line, the leader of the merchants, a grizzled man with a weathered face and a booming voice, kept a steady pace.
"How much longer?" a merchant from the middle of the caravan shouted, his voice tinged with impatience.
"Couple more hours!" the leader bellowed back, not bothering to turn around. "We'll be in Purewood by sunset."
The announcement brought a mix of relief and anticipation among the merchants. They were eager to strike deals and earn their keep in the bustling city. This caravan was more than just a trading venture; it was part of an expedition that would eventually set out for the City of Balmoral. For Luke, this group represented an opportunity to join their ranks and continue his journey toward the Empire of Virencia.
Toward the end of the line, one particular merchant rode quietly, his face obscured by a deep hood. He was positioned in the second-to-last carriage, following the rest with a deliberate pace. The hooded figure kept to himself, rarely engaging in the banter that floated back and forth among the others. His silence was almost palpable, a shadow within the caravan's bustling presence.
Hidden beneath the piles of barrels and crates in his carriage lay a secret none of the other merchants knew about. A beating heart was nestled deep within the clutter, its surface marked with strange runes that glowed faintly. This heart was not an ordinary one; it was imbued with a dark magic that held the power to attract monsters. It was the same heart that had once drawn the legendary Aerdeich to its location.
The merchant's carriage rocked gently as it moved over the uneven road, the sound of wooden wheels and tiger paws blending into a rhythmic cadence. The hooded man glanced around, ensuring that no one was paying undue attention to him or his cargo. He knew the danger that the heart posed, but he had his reasons for bringing it to Purewood. Reasons that he kept locked away, much like the heart itself.
As the caravan pressed on, the landscape around them began to change. The dense forest gave way to rolling hills, and in the distance, the walls of Purewood started to come into view. The merchants felt a renewed sense of energy, their thoughts turning to the deals they would make and the goods they would sell.
But for the hooded merchant, the arrival in Purewood signified something else entirely. He cast a wary glance at the heart hidden among his wares, feeling its pulse through the wood and fabric. It was a dangerous gamble, bringing such a powerful object into the city. Yet he had little choice. The stakes were high, and the path he had chosen was fraught with peril.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city walls, the caravan approached the gates of Purewood. The guards, familiar with the routine of incoming merchants, began their checks and waved the carriages through one by one. The hooded merchant pulled his hood lower, hoping to avoid any unnecessary attention.
As his carriage passed through the gates, the merchant took a deep breath. He was now inside Purewood, and with him, the dangerous heart that had the potential to change everything.
And on the same day, but different time, the afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the cathedral, its light filtering through the stained-glass windows and painting the interior with a kaleidoscope of colours. Luke leaned against one of the wooden pillars, enjoying the tranquillity that had become a familiar part of his daily routine. The soft murmurs of prayer from the few worshippers in the pews added to the serene atmosphere.
Just as Luke was settling deeper into his relaxed state, the cathedral doors creaked open, and two men stepped inside. They were dressed in practical clothing, indicative of their laborious lifestyles, and carried an air of urgency. Luke watched as they made their way toward Father Wingate, who was standing near the altar.
Curiosity piqued, Luke straightened up and edged closer, trying to catch snippets of their conversation. However, as he drew near, the discussion wrapped up, and he only caught the tail end of their farewells. The men nodded to Father Wingate and exited the cathedral, leaving Luke standing there, feeling slightly disappointed at his failed attempt to eavesdrop.
With his plan thwarted, Luke approached Father Wingate directly.
"What was that about, Father?"
Father Wingate turned to him, a gentle smile playing on his lips.
"Those men were from the merchant guild. A group of merchants is set to arrive today, and they need some assistance. It seems they're short on physical help to unload their goods."
"And they came to the cathedral for help?" Luke raised an eyebrow.
"Of course," Father Wingate replied. "They need some extra hands to move barrels and crates, and they offered compensation in return. I was thinking it would be a good opportunity for the children to earn some money and experience the bustling life of the city."
"Can I join in as well?" Luke's interest was piqued even further.
"Of course, Luke. Any help is appreciated, and I'm sure the children would be glad to have you with them," Father Wingate chuckled softly.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as Luke and the children prepared for their upcoming task. The cathedral was abuzz with excitement and chatter as the kids speculated about the merchants and the goods they would be unloading. Luke found himself swept up in the enthusiasm, helping to organize the group and ensuring everyone was ready.
As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the city, Luke led the children out of the cathedral and toward the merchant guild's meeting point. The group walked with a sense of purpose, their spirits high as they approached the bustling area where the merchants would soon arrive.
When they reached their destination, the streets were already buzzing with activity. The first of the merchant carriages was rolling in, and the air was filled with the sounds of creaking wheels and the snorts of the tigers pulling them. The merchants were busy directing their teams, and a sense of organized chaos permeated the scene.
Luke and the children quickly integrated themselves into the effort, receiving instructions from the guild members on what needed to be done. They formed a human chain, passing barrels and crates from the carriages to the designated storage areas. The work was hard but satisfying, and the children's laughter and chatter provided a lively backdrop to the labour.
Amid the hustle and bustle, Luke kept a watchful eye on the proceedings. He noted the variety of goods being unloaded—spices, fabrics, tools, and other items that promised to bring new vibrancy to Purewood's markets. However, he remained unaware of the dark secret hidden in the second-to-last carriage, its ominous presence cloaked by the everyday bustle.
As the evening wore on, the group continued their work, unaware of the convergence of fates that was taking place. Luke's journey, the children's excitement, the merchants' ambitions, and the hidden threat were all intertwined in ways none of them could yet foresee. The stage was set, and the next chapter of their lives was about to unfold with all the unpredictability of a rolling storm.
As the work continued into the evening, an unsettling stillness settled over the outskirts of the bustling activity. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with a life of their own. Luke wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing around at the industrious scene. Despite the camaraderie and the sense of accomplishment that permeated the air, an unspoken tension seemed to linger just beneath the surface.
Unbeknownst to Luke and the other helpers, one of the carriages harboured a dark secret. Hidden among the barrels and crates, the ominous heart with its insidious marking pulsed faintly, its power quietly seeping into the surroundings. The enchantment inscribed upon it—Monster Attract—lay dormant for now, but its potential for chaos and destruction was ever-present. The merchants themselves, oblivious to the malevolent force they transported, focused solely on their immediate tasks, blissfully unaware of the doom that accompanied their cargo.
As the night deepened, an eerie silence began to creep in, amplifying the distant sounds of the city and the murmurs of the helpers. The children, though tired, remained enthusiastic, their spirits high from the day's unusual adventure. But for Luke, a nagging feeling of unease began to take root. He couldn't shake the sense that something was amiss, that the normalcy of their labour was a fragile veneer over something far more sinister. The heart's hidden power, the merchants' unwitting complicity and the imminent arrival of unknown dangers converged into a perfect storm that threatened to engulf Purewood in darkness. The city stood on the precipice, unaware that the forces of doom were already at its gates.