Eira's eyes scanned the dusty tavern, her mind racing with the rumors that had drawn her to this forsaken town. Whispers of an ancient evil, long thought vanquished, had begun to resurface. People spoke of dark rituals and human sacrifices, of an otherworldly power stirring in the shadows.
Eira's instincts screamed at her to leave, but something about the tales captivated her. She had always been drawn to the unknown, and the prospect of uncovering the truth was too great to resist.
As she sipped her ale, a hooded figure slipped into the tavern, their eyes locking onto Eira's with an unnerving intensity. The air seemed to grow colder, and the whispers in the tavern grew louder, as if they were all speaking of a single, forbidden topic.
The figure vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving Eira with more questions than answers. Who was that stranger? What did they want from her?
As she pondered these questions, a grizzled old man slid into the seat beside her, his eyes gleaming with a knowing intensity. "You're looking for answers, lass," he said, his voice like gravel. "Answers that only a few dare to seek."
Eira's grip on her ale tightened. What did he know? And what did he want from her?
The old man leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I can take you to the one who knows the truth. But be warned, lass: once you know, there's no turning back."
Eira felt a shiver run down her spine. What secrets lay hidden in the shadows? And what lay ahead for those who dared to uncover them?
Eira's eyes locked onto Arin's, her mind racing with questions. What did he mean by "skills"? And what was the purpose of the Lost Legion?
Arin's gaze seemed to bore into her soul, as if he could see the turmoil brewing within her. "You're looking for a chance to make a difference, Eira," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "To leave a mark on this world. Am I right?"
Eira's instincts whispered caution, but something about Arin's words resonated with her. She nodded, and Arin's face cracked into a faint smile.
"Excellent," he said, pulling out a small, intricately carved wooden box from his belt. "This is a symbol of the Lost Legion. It holds the power of our ancient oath, sworn by those who have come before us."
Eira's curiosity was piqued. What kind of oath would require such a symbol?
Arin opened the box, revealing a small, shimmering crystal nestled within. "This is the Heart of the Legion," he said, his voice filled with reverence. "It holds the essence of our purpose: to protect the innocent and vanquish darkness."
As he spoke, the crystal began to glow with an otherworldly light. Eira felt an inexplicable connection to it, as if it was calling to her.
"You must swear an oath to serve the Lost Legion," Arin said, his eyes burning with intensity. "To defend the innocent and vanquish darkness, no matter the cost. Are you willing to make that oath?"
Eira hesitated, unsure what lay ahead. But something about Arin's words resonated with her. She thought of all the battles she had fought, all the innocent lives lost to the darkness. This was her chance to make a difference.
"Yes," she said, her voice firm.
Arin's face lit up with a fierce smile. "Then let us seal your oath."
With a swift motion, Arin drew his sword and plunged it into Eira's hand. The crystal in the box began to glow brighter, infusing her with a strange energy.
Eira felt her senses heighten, her reflexes quickening. She could feel the weight of the Lost Legion's oath settling upon her shoulders.
Arin pulled back his sword, and Eira saw that her hand now bore a small, intricate scar – the mark of the Lost Legion.
"You are now a member of the Lost Legion," Arin said, his voice filled with gravity. "May your sword be guided by honor and your heart be tempered by steel."
Eira felt a sense of belonging wash over her. She was no longer just a mercenary; she was a warrior of the Lost Legion.