The frigid air crackled as Tazmel struck his hammer onto the deck, and ice blossomed like a deadly winter flower across the water, transforming the river into a glacial battlefield. The bandits yelled in dismay as the slippery ice caught them off-guard, sending many sliding haplessly towards the edges.
There were children in the boat, and Kailan said to them, "Hey kids, wanna see some carnage?"
The kids exclaimed, "Yes!"
Tazmel created a wall of ice in front of them, saying, "No! We must keep their eyes pure!"
"Oh please. You just wanna keep all the gore to yourself and your own eyes. Selfish bastard."
"Haha! You know me too well!"
Orthen sighed, "We shall deliver these pirates to death's door. I have to make sure no lives are lost among us."
Kailan said, "Are you always this serious or…?"
"Yes. Is there an issue?"
'Nope nope, no issue this way, guy."
Tazmel exclaimed, "Let's do this!"
Tazmel gripped his hammer tightly, summoning a fierce burst of lightning. He swings, sending a jagged bolt tearing through the air, catching a bandit square in the chest. The electric shock makes the pirate convulse wildly before dropping lifelessly onto the icy surface, smoke wafting from his charred clothing.
Moving like a specter, Kailan drops to all fours, his sword held in his mouth. His shadow melds with that of an advancing pirate. In a blink, Kailan emerges from the pirate's own shadow behind him, delivering a devastating upward slash that splits the attacker cleanly in two, shadow flames igniting from the halves which then consume and disintegrate the remains.
With his rune-etched blanket draped over one arm, Orthen takes a single step. Instantly, he bridges a vast distance, appearing directly behind a duo of bandits. With a swift motion, he envelops them in the blanket. The runes glow ominously before the fabric tightens unimaginably, crushing the trapped bandits within before Orthen discards what resembles now a sealed shroud to the icy ground.
Kailan asked Orthen, "Mind telling us why you're here for us? Why does the royal family want us?"
"You are famous through Kalhalla. Your strength is formidable, and you also have a healer in your group if I'm not mistaken?"
"Yeah, Raiya. She's weird. But she's one of the boys."
"She's..a boy?"
"I mean that she's one of us."
"Oh, oh. Apologies."
Spinning his hammer with a dancer's grace, Tazmel conjures a swirling tornado of fire. The fiery cyclone sweeps across the ice, engulfing a group of bandits. Their screams are brief as the inferno consumes oxygen and foe alike, leaving nothing but a smoldering patch on the icy battlefield.
"Haha! Die! Die!"
Kailan said to Tazmel, "Little rowdy for a couple of pirates aren't ya?"
"So what?! They deserve all this!"
Kailan leaps high into the air, his form a blur as he executes multiple spinning slashes. As he touches down, every spot where his feet hit bursts into shadow flames, creating a hazardous zone that any advancing pirate unwittingly steps into, instantly corroding flesh and metal upon contact. With a wave of his hand, Orthen casts shadows that snake rapidly across the ice. They wrap tightly around the legs of a charging group, yanking them down hard. The impact cracks skulls and spines against the hard ice, leaving a line of incapacitated or slain foes in grotesque and unnatural poses. Slamming the side of his hammer onto the icy surface, Tazmel summons roots which burst forth, entangling and dragging several pirates into the frigid waters. Their exit from the battle is marked by the thrashing in the water before the icy depths claim them, stilled suddenly by the cold.
Darting through the fray, Kailan is a whirlwind of death. Each swing of his sword releases curved crescents of shadow energy, which slice through pirate flesh unerringly. Limbs and heads fall, cleaved from bodies with surgical precision, as Kailan moves untouched through pools of darkening blood. Raising his blanket, Orthen causes the fabric to shimmer, distorting the space around him. A bandit charges, sword raised, but as he enters the distorted area, his body gruesomely contorts, bones snapping and flesh warping until he collapses, a deformed heap no longer recognizable.
Behind the wall of ice, adventures and others commented:
"Sounds crazy back there.."
"Can anyone go around and see what's happening?"
"People are getting maimed, duh."
"Damn pirates. They should've known better trying to raid a boat with hunters and adventurers on it."
"Exactly. The rise of adventurers and hunters through Kalhalla and other kingdoms have risen. Since the royals haven't heard anything from their deities they worship, the adventurers and hunters took up the mantle to be the voice of god or something."
"Me and my guild have been raiding dungeons and overrun villages; these beasts and some people just suddenly erupt in red flames turning into grotesque powerful monsters. It's awful out there. The need for hunters and adventurers of all sorts is needed."
With a ground-pound of his hammer, Tazmel sends a jagged array of ice spikes erupting from beneath the pirates. They impale with gruesome efficiency, pinning bodies in a macabre display, blood pooling warmly around bases of cold, unyielding ice.
Jumping from shadow to shadow, Kailan rises again, descending with the force of a meteor. His blade slashes horizontally as he lands, bifurcating two foes who stood too close to each other, their top halves sliding off in a slow, almost surreal fashion. Whirling his blanketed arm, Orthen channels the air to lift himself slightly, dropping onto a group of bandits. The weight and rune power of the blanket crushes those beneath him, grinding them into the ice as he stands unflinched, his cloak fluttering slightly with the chilly breeze.
Flexing his mastery over elements, Tazmel conducts a symphony of destruction. Fire and lightning alternate in rapid succession, scorching and electrocuting a line of advancing pirates. The smell of burnt flesh mixes with the crackling sound of charged air. In a macabre ballet, Kailan weaves through his adversaries, his sword a painter's brush of death. Each stroke leaves behind either a severed body part or an acidic shadow flame that ensures no delayed survival.
For a grim attack, Orthen covers himself with the blanket, charging forward like a spectral bull. As he makes contact with the last standing foes, the runes flare violently. The contact obliterates the bandits, reducing them to a mist of red that settles faintly on the still bodies around him.
From the mist, a formidable figure emerged, heralding a new threat on the icy battlefield. This was the pirate leader, known infamously as Garrick Blackveil. He stood tall and sinewy, his presence marked by an ominously ornate twin-bladed staff that shimmered with a dark crimson aura. Sporting a long, jet-black coat fringed with scars from past skirmishes, Blackveil's icy blue eyes contrasted starkly against his weather-beaten, scar-faced pale skin with dirt all over it, and dreadlocked red and white hair. A wicked grin pulled at a grizzled beard, tinged red at the edges—an unsettling echo of the blood he had shed.
"Agh. Of course we run into the Conquest Band. Bunch of overrated nobodies."
Brandishing his unique weapon, a staff whose ends culminated in wickedly curved blades that radiated destructive red energy, Blackveil aimed a surprise strike at the victors. However, as the twin blades sung through the air, a blur of motion intercepted. Raiya, with an effortless flick of her wrist, caught the menacing blades between her fingers. With a twist of her supple wrist, she redirected the weapon, the blades slashing across Blackveil's neck. A gush of blood marked the strike, dark against the stark whiteness of the ice, but the pirate leader merely grunted, his resilience apparent.
Blackveil gurgled, "Ack! You bitch.."
Raiya said nothing.
Blackveil continued, "Wanna know why we do this? The cult has made it hard for us to make a living, this was the only way. We..didn't expect there to be adventures or hunters on the waters, we always raided merchants and fruit sellers and shit. This is the only way!"
Unperturbed by his bleeding wound, Blackveil unleashed a fury of slashes towards Raiya, a tempest of red energy swirling with each move. Yet, Raiya, light on her feet, danced around each attack. Her movements, fluid and precise, were akin to a petal caught in the wind, yet every contact with her hardened skin resulted in an explosive bright red aura that scintillated violently on the frigid ice.
At one point, Blackveil's blade came crashing down with the weight of his fury, aimed squarely at Raiya. In a flit of grace, she parried with her forearm, now sheathed in dark red mana. The collision sparked a spectacular explosion of red energy that painted the battleground with fiery light. Raiya's eyes glinted, a silent defiance against the storm unleashed by Blackveil.
Sidestepping another arced sweep of his blade, Raiya lightly tapped the flat of the blade with her fingertips, each touch setting off minor eruptions of red energy that scorched the ice, leaving smoldering craters in their wake. Her movements blended the martial with the balletic, a lethal dance that left her adversary floundering to connect his attacks.
In a moment of silence amidst the chaos, Raiya executed a swift, spinning motion, her leg extending to step solidly on Blackveil's foot. The pressure anchored him momentarily, a split-second vulnerability that she exploited fully. In the blink of an eye, Raiya surged forward, her fingers dancing over Blackveil's torso in a rapid succession, touching critical pressure points with precision only a master could achieve.
Leaping back gracefully, Raiya watched as Blackveil, unaware of the latent destruction she had woven into his system, threw his head back and laughed—a deep, resounding guffaw that echoed ominously over the now silent battlefield.
With a cruel sneer, Blackveil charged at Raiya, his staff raised for a decimating blow. Yet, as Raiya turned her back, walking away with a serene calm, the pirate leader's steps faltered. Suddenly, he stumbled, a look of bewilderment crossing his fierce features. One by one, the pressure points Raiya had touched erupted in spectacular explosions of blood, each burst forming a grotesque, spectral red rose that blossomed violently from his flesh.
As Blackveil collapsed, a broken marionette severed from its strings, the battlefield fell eerily silent, save for the soft crunch of Raiya's steps across the blood-stained ice. The pirate leader, formidable and feared, now lay defeated, his life extinguished as swiftly as it had been fierce. Raiya's dance of death—her Rose Blossom skill—had not only parried and dodged but had woven a final, brutal poetry that wrote an end to the pirate's reign of terror.
Everyone watched, the wall of ice falling.
Orthen bowed, "Yes, she is strong like the rest of you."
Kailan rolled his eyes, "I mean she's alright."
Tazmel exclaimed, putting his arm around Raiya, "She's a badass—!"
THOOM!
Raiya flipped Tazmel on his back, saying, "No touching."
Tazmel just laughed.
Orthen watched them, thinking, 'They are strong indeed. But are they strong enough to save the princess?'
People on the boat saw the bodies, saying:
"They didn't stand a chance!"
"That's what they get honestly."
Some children cheered, "Awesome!"
Their eyes were covered quickly by their parents, pulling them away.
As the boat disembarked from the ferry at the bustling docks of Kalhalla's capital, Ealdenbridge, the air was saturated with the vibrant cacophony typical of a thriving trade city. The river Serith flowed quietly alongside, contrasting the energetic pace of the city life. Fishermen hauled in their early catches to the cries of gulls overhead, a vivid reminder of the city's symbiotic relationship with the river.
'Nice city. Smells rich as hell. My style.' Kailan thought.
Ealdenbridge, known for its expansive markets and intricate architecture—a blend of ancient heritage and refined elegance reminiscent of old boroughs—was bustling. The streets were filled with vendors shouting over one another, promoting goods ranging from exotic spices to hand-forged metals, contributing to the foreground of clanging, chatter, and the occasional neigh of horses.
As Conquest and Orthen made their way through the market square, the town crier, a rotund man with a booming voice dressed in a garish quilt of colors, stood atop a wooden box. He bellowed the latest decrees and news, "Hear ye, Hear ye! Queen Sylaria decrees a festival of lights in fort-night to celebrate the autumn equinox at the grand vineyard of Thorngrail! A bounty of wine and cheer to be had by all!"
His news shifted subtly as his voice carried across the crowded square. "Attention, goodfolk! The neighboring kingdom of Nordskeld plans a grand ship-launching come the morrow. The mighty vessel, The Seawraith, to embark on a voyage seeking new lands and rich trades!" This was followed by a murmur of excitement; the citizens of Ealdenbridge always held a keen interest in the naval exploits of Nordskeld, their longstanding allies.
Tazmel said, "I hope this place has bunches of mead. Drinking water is boring."
Raiya said, "It's healthy."
"Being happy is healthy. And I'm happy when I'm under the influence."
"Fool."
Continuing his roll, the town crier provided an update on local agriculture and commerce: "The barley fields of Dunfell have yielded an unprecedented harvest this year! Brewers from across the seas, get ready for barrels of the finest ale—old Dunfell's pride!"
Raiya said, "Why do they avoid talking about the cult and dangerous things happening?"
Orthen replied, "Ordered by the queen and king themselves, our job is not to spread discomfort or terror here. We wish to keep things on the bright side."
Kailan responded, "Soooo they're gonna find out anyway."
"Yes they will eventually find out what the cults have been doing, but I'm pretty sure everyone here knows what's been going on. But we don't want to add to it, we do not want this place to be the bearer of bad news. They may hear it elsewhere, but not here."
Tazmel nodded, "Haha! That is amazing!"
"Yes. It is."
As Kailan and his group passed through the heart of the city, they observed small carpentry shops producing exquisite furniture, adorned with ancient runes and filigree, a testament to the city's rich cultural synthesis. Nearby, children played around a well-crafted statue of a legendary hero from Ealdenbridge's folklore, Thorald the Mighty, who was said to have fended off a legion of giants single-handedly during the Great Siege.
Orthen pointed at the statue, saying, "He paved the way for us to be this way. Being brave, not being afraid to defend the well beings of others, mentally, physically, and emotionally."
The air filled with the aroma of fresh bread as they neared Blackmill Bakery, renowned across the land for its honey-glazed loaves and savory tarts. Raiya, despite her blindness, turned her head appreciatively towards the scent, a small smile playing on her lips. Her cheeks blushed at the scent, and she started moving towards them.
She stopped at the seller, saying, "Give me a lot."
The woman replied, "How much is..a lot?" She was scared, because under Raiya's blindfold, the woman could feel the intensity.
"A lot, coming right u-up!" the woman stuttered.
As they kept walking, Raiya held a gigantic basket of loaves and tarts, eating as she blushed with a slight smile.
Kailan commented, "She can never resist."
Tazmel asked, "Hey, Raiya, can i have—."
"Fuck off!" Raiya said growling.
Tazmel hid behind Orthen, watching Raiya continue to eat with a smile.
Further on, a troupe of street performers drew crowds in Cobbleton Circle, juggling flaming torches and performing acrobatic feats that defied gravity. Children watched with wide-eyed wonder, and even Kailan felt a grudging respect for their skill.
Another crier, targeting a more scholarly audience near the city's grand library, announced, "A series of lectures at the great Almanor Hall this week! Scholars from Everspring Academy to discuss the ancient magic that once thrived in the mystic lands of Aelfenwold!"
Orthen said, "Even with this state the world is in, life and kingdom still thrives. The world goes on, we won't the cult of Fabel change our lifestyle that this kingdoms heroes created."
Adjacent to the colorful chaos of the market, the tranquil gardens of Silvermere Park offered a peaceful respite. Aristocrats strolled leisurely, speaking softly about the political tremors felt from the Eastern realms of Drakenhof, where dragons were rumored to be stirring once more.
Close to the park, the renowned smithy, Valkforge, adorned with shields and swords bearing the emblem of Ealdenbridge—a dragon entwined around a castle—buzzed with the sound of hammer on anvil. Tazmel paused here, his eyes appreciating the craftsmanship, exchanging a nod with the master smith who recognized a fellow artisan.
As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the cobblestones, the enticing smell of roasted meats wafted from Ironbellow Tavern. Known for its robust stews and hearty ales, it was a favorite among mercenaries and adventurers alike.
Finally, reaching the royal palace, a grand structure with towering turrets and fluttering banners, the group paused. Its imposing beauty stood as a symbol of Kalhalla's enduring strength and prosperity, a beacon across the ages.
Thus, through the vibrant life of Ealdenbridge, the mercenaries of Conquest, tasked with a quest of grave importance, took their first steps toward confronting the enigmatic force that gripped the young princess Amarisa, carrying with them the hopes of a kingdom and the curiosity of its colorful citizens.
In the grand and ornate room of Amarisa, in the Kalhalla palace, the atmosphere was tense as seasoned warriors and magicians surrounded Princess Amarisa, trying in vain to unlock the curse that gripped her. Raiya, her blindfold fluttering slightly with each careful step, approached the young princess with an outstretched hand, her expression one of tranquil determination.
The other vagabonds, adventurers, and hunters that were present whispered:
"They actually came.."
"They have to be the ones to fix this right?"
"Of course they are."
'A dark presence…something's definitely grasping her..'
Queen Sylaria stated, "She's never been in this state this long..I hope she hasn't been taken by something…"
King Thorian, "This is worrying..please save her.." He muttered, holding onto Sylaria.
As Raiya's fingers brushed against Amarisa's skin, the princess let out a bone-chilling scream that sent a surge of dark energy rippling throughout the room. The gathered hunters and members of various adventurers' guilds were thrown backward with tremendous force, crashing against the stone walls. Yet, Raiya, steadfast and somehow shielded, remained by Amarisa.
Kailan said, "Tch! Don't get blown away! That type of force could kill someone!"
'Can Raiya save her?! This could get bad!'
Tazmel said, "Raiya! Are you alright, lad?! Be careful!"
Raiya exclaimed, "Stop pestering me, I got this!"
'Do I…?'
The moment Raiya's touch connected with Amarisa, Raiya's mind was flooded with grotesque visions: dark deities, monstrous beasts, and a shadowy figure kneeling atop a hill of broken bodies. This spectral figure had unnerving red eyes and glowing white hair, and his emaciated skinny form was cast in stark relief against a colossal tree standing under a sun blazing with red flames. Overwhelmed, Raiya staggered back, her heart pounding with existential dread.
"Something... it's the work of something dark..that damn cult," Raiya gasped, her voice trembling as Kailan and Tazmel rushed to support her. "I'm fine."
Amarisa was still floating, eyes pitch black, and mouth wide open now, but with tears in her eyes.
Queen Sylaria covered her mouth, saying, "It's no hope then…is there?"
King Thorian clenched his fists, "What are we supposed to do?!"
At that moment, the heavy doors of the palace swung open with a resounding boom, and in strode Kelgade the Bloodhound Knight. His massive form was encased in armor that seemed to pulse with a dim, red glow, his presence alone demanding attention.
Kelgade, known as the Bloodhound Knight, stands a formidable figure clad in a menacing suit of armor that embodies the essence of his fearsome reputation. His armor is a dark red hue, almost blending into the shadowy forest backdrop, but highlighted with blood-red accents that accentuate its sharp, aggressive contours, and also had thin stick branches sticking out of them.
His helmet, a striking piece of craftsmanship, features angular, geometric shapes that come to a pronounced point at the top in the shape of wolf ears. This metallic helm obscures his face entirely, leaving only a sense of mystery and intimidation. The eye slits are narrow, which enhances his enigmatic and unyielding nature.
Around his shoulders, Kelgade wears a matching set of pauldrons, each adorned with jagged edges that resemble the teeth of some fierce beast. These shoulder plates are robust and seem almost impenetrable, designed not only for protection but to strike fear into the hearts of those who dare oppose him.
His chest armor is equally intricate, featuring layered metal plates that interlock perfectly to provide maximum protection. The center of the breastplate is adorned with a symbolic crest – perhaps a heraldic symbol of his allegiance or achievements. Below this, strips of red fabric drape elegantly, adding a splash of color that contrasts sharply with the dark metal.
The cape he wears billows behind him, its deep red fabric trimmed with a black edge, giving the impression of royal status while also suggesting a trail of blood left in his wake. The way it flows and ripples gives life to his otherwise stoic and metallic form.
His gauntlets are reinforced with additional plating over the knuckles and back of the hand, structured to add devastating power to his strikes and protect against blades. The leg armor, too, is heavily fortified, composed of layered plates down to the sabatons which cover his feet, designed for both mobility and defense.
At his side, a long, slender sword hangs from a detailed belt, its hilt just visible beneath the flowing cape. The weapon seems to be as much a decorative piece of his status as a knight as it is a functional weapon of war.
Everyone commented:
"That's…"
"Kelgade!"
"I thought he was going to be gone for a week?"
Kelgade said "The only one who can free Amarisa from this affliction is Zabriel the Healer," Kelgade announced in a deep, authoritative tone, his every word echoing against the marble floors. "And I assure you, he is not as easily defeated as presumed."
The king and queen exchanged a glance of mixed skepticism and hope. "But we heard Zabriel was slain," King Thorian replied, his voice heavy with doubt.
Kelgade shook his head. "Zabriel is a survivor from the Crow, as I am, we are from the same assassin's orphanage I once called an adversary. If anyone has the skills to remain unscathed, it is he."
Convinced by Kelgade's assertion, the royal couple consented. "Where will you search for him?" Queen Sylaria asked, her tone laced with urgency.
With a nod, Kelgade responded, "If there's one place he'd be after disappearing, I have an idea."
With that, Kelgade, along with the members of Conquest, prepared to leave the palace on their critical mission. As they walked, Kelgade's thoughts churned with grim memories and secrets. 'Zabriel always was the one who slipped through the cracks, even when we were pitted against each other at the Crow. I became this loyal knight to fulfill a mission—my target and I slew each other, but the royalty of Kalhalla saved me. They used forbidden magic to bind my soul to this armor.' His gaze briefly settled on the frail figure of Amarisa. 'And now, this curse—perhaps my penance for a life of violence. If Zabriel had accepted this task initially, maybe none of this would have happened. But he didn't, and now it falls to me.'
Kelgade pointed at Kailan, Raiya, and Tazmel, with his sword, saying, "I will take this group to journey with me. I will not take no for an answer. This is for Amarisa."
Kailan said, "Hold up, who are you to tell us what to do—?"
FWOOSH!
Kelgade was already standing back to back with Kailan, his sword at Kailan's neck.
"Who am I? Kelgade the loyal knight, the loyal assassin from the Crow. You and your group will come with me to find my rival and enemy Zabriel."
Tazmel, sweating, thought, 'He's fast! I could barely react to him.'
Kelgade then turned to Raiya, saying, "Do you have any objections?"
Raiya said nothing.
"Good. Let's move out. Don't get in my way, I'll slaughter the lot of you."