The skies had begun to shift into an unnatural hue by the time Nightshade and his companions emerged from the crumbling ruins of the Forgotten Sands. An eerie red cast descended over the land, the moon's glow bathing everything in crimson. It was not the moon they had known—it seemed alive, pulsing with malevolence, an omen of the darkness gathering strength.
They stood atop a jagged ridge overlooking the sprawling valley below. Nestled within was a fortress, its walls gleaming faintly in the otherworldly light. The Fortress of Kyral was their next destination, a stronghold that had withstood the test of centuries and held the key to unraveling the Blood Moon's curse. But as they gazed down at it, they noticed something disturbing: black tendrils of smoke rising from the fortress's towers.
"It has already begun," said Eira, her voice a whisper. Her emerald eyes reflected the blood-red moon, her unease palpable.
Nightshade tightened his grip on his blade, Umbral Edge, the weapon humming faintly in response. "We need to get there before it's too late."
Morgan, the group's strategist, adjusted the leather strap of his satchel. "You're assuming we still have time. Whatever lies ahead, it won't be as simple as walking through the gates."
From behind them, Castalia's voice cut through the tension. "We've faced worse. Besides, I'd rather fight than stand here waiting for whatever nightmare is coming." She slung her war hammer, Breaker's Call, over her shoulder with a determined grin, though her eyes betrayed her unease.
As the group descended into the valley, the oppressive weight of the Blood Moon seemed to grow. Shadows danced unnaturally across the ground, moving independently of their sources. The air carried a metallic tang, as if blood itself had seeped into the atmosphere. They trudged through thick underbrush and across uneven terrain, the journey made more arduous by the growing sense of dread.
Halfway to the fortress, the group halted at the sound of a distant howl. It was long, guttural, and unlike anything they had ever heard. A moment later, it was joined by another, and then another.
"What in the realms is that?" Castalia asked, her grip tightening on her hammer.
Nightshade exchanged a glance with Eira. "Bloodhounds. Creatures of the curse."
Morgan nodded grimly. "They're faster than us and hunt in packs. If they're out, it means the curse is actively guarding something."
"Then we don't stop," Nightshade said. "Move!"
The Bloodhounds found them before they reached the fortress. The first came bursting through the underbrush, a massive, wolf-like creature with glowing red eyes and black, matted fur. Its jaws were unnaturally large, dripping with a viscous black ichor that sizzled as it hit the ground.
Eira was the first to react, raising her staff, Starlight Veil, and channeling a barrier of shimmering light. The Bloodhound slammed into it, yelping as the barrier seared its flesh. Castalia wasted no time, charging forward and swinging her hammer with a battle cry. The impact sent the creature flying into a tree, but before it could recover, Morgan's throwing knives pinned it to the bark. A final blast from Eira's staff reduced it to ash.
But there were more.
The howls grew louder, and soon the forest erupted into chaos. Bloodhounds poured in from every direction, their glowing eyes cutting through the shadows. The group formed a tight circle, each member unleashing their abilities in a coordinated defense.
Nightshade moved with lethal precision, his blade carving through the Bloodhounds like a wraith. The Umbral Edge seemed to drink in the light around it, growing darker with each kill. Eira's magic was a constant shield and weapon, her spells illuminating the battlefield like flashes of lightning. Castalia's hammer roared with every strike, the force of her blows creating shockwaves that scattered the beasts. Morgan, ever the tactician, used traps and precise strikes to control the flow of the battle.
Despite their efforts, the onslaught was relentless. For every Bloodhound they defeated, two more took its place. The group was pushed back, their energy waning under the ceaseless assault.
"We can't keep this up!" Morgan shouted, his voice barely audible over the din.
"We won't have to," Nightshade replied, his eyes fixed on the fortress ahead. "We're close."
The group broke free from the forest just as the Bloodhounds closed in again. Before them loomed the Fortress of Kyral, its massive gates sealed shut. Blackened vines twisted around the stone walls, pulsating as if alive. The fortress exuded an ancient malevolence, and the crimson glow of the Blood Moon made it seem like a living, breathing entity.
"We need to get inside!" Nightshade shouted.
Morgan scanned the gates, his sharp eyes catching a faint shimmer of runes etched into the stone. "There's a ward on the gates. It'll take time to break it."
"Time is something we don't have!" Castalia growled, swinging her hammer to fend off another Bloodhound. The creature's body crumpled to the ground, but its pack surged forward, snapping and howling.
Eira stepped forward, her staff glowing brightly. "I'll hold them off. Morgan, do what you need to do."
Nightshade hesitated. "You can't face them alone."
"You'll all die if I don't," she said firmly, planting herself between the group and the oncoming swarm. Her magic flared, forming a shimmering wall of starlight. The Bloodhounds slammed into it, their howls of rage echoing across the valley.
Nightshade reluctantly turned to Morgan, who was already kneeling before the gates, muttering incantations under his breath. His hands traced the runes, each one lighting up faintly as he worked to dismantle the ward.
"Almost there," Morgan said, sweat beading on his forehead.
Behind them, Eira's barrier began to crack. "I can't hold it much longer!" she called out, her voice strained.
Nightshade stepped beside her, his blade gleaming in the crimson light. "You're not holding it alone." With a swift motion, he unleashed a wave of shadow magic from the Umbral Edge, pushing the Bloodhounds back momentarily. But the effort left him visibly drained.
Morgan's voice cut through the chaos. "It's done! Go!"
The gates creaked open just enough for the group to slip through. They slammed shut behind them, cutting off the Bloodhounds' pursuit. Inside, the fortress was eerily silent, the air thick with an unnatural chill. The crimson light of the Blood Moon seeped through cracks in the stone, casting distorted shadows across the walls.
"That was too close," Castalia said, leaning against her hammer. "Whatever's in here better be worth it."
"It is," Eira said, her voice resolute. "The fortress holds the Obsidian Seal. If we destroy it, we weaken the Blood Moon's influence."
Morgan glanced around warily. "Let's not assume we're safe just because we're inside. If the seal is here, it'll be guarded."
They moved cautiously through the fortress, their footsteps echoing in the vast, empty halls. The walls were adorned with faded tapestries depicting scenes of war and sacrifice, their colors long faded.
As they ascended a spiral staircase, they heard a faint humming sound, like the resonance of a massive bell. It grew louder with each step, filling the air with a palpable tension. At the top of the staircase, they entered a grand hall, its ceiling open to the Blood Moon above. In the center of the room stood an ancient altar, and atop it rested the Obsidian Seal—a jagged, black disc etched with glowing red runes.
But they were not alone.
A figure stepped out of the shadows, its form draped in tattered black robes. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, but its eyes burned with an unnatural red light. In its hand was a staff twisted with black metal and bone.
"The Seal is not for you," the figure said, its voice echoing unnaturally. "You have come far, but this is where your journey ends."
Nightshade stepped forward, his blade at the ready. "We've faced worse than you. Stand aside."
The figure laughed, a hollow, chilling sound. "You've faced nothing like me." It raised its staff, and the room erupted into chaos.
The figure slammed its staff into the ground, sending a shockwave rippling through the hall. The companions were thrown back, scrambling to regain their footing. From the shadows, spectral figures began to materialize—ghostly warriors clad in armor, their eyes glowing with the same red light as the Blood Moon. Each carried weapons that shimmered with dark energy.
Eira was the first to react, raising her staff and summoning a dome of protective light around the group. The spectral warriors crashed against it, their attacks sending tremors through the barrier.
"That thing isn't just a guardian," Morgan said, his voice tight. "It's a conduit for the Blood Moon."
"Then we cut the connection," Nightshade growled, his blade already in hand.
The figure raised its staff again, sending tendrils of black energy snaking through the air. They struck Eira's barrier like whips, cracking its surface.
"I can't hold this forever!" Eira warned, sweat beading on her brow.
"Then don't," Nightshade said, stepping through the barrier as it dissolved. The Umbral Edge in his hand flared to life, its shadowy aura intensifying. He charged the figure, his movements a blur as he slashed at its form.
The guardian countered with its staff, the weapons colliding in a burst of light and shadow. The clash sent shockwaves through the hall, rattling the ancient stones.
While Nightshade engaged the figure, Castalia charged into the spectral warriors, her war hammer glowing faintly as she swung it in wide arcs. Each strike sent ghostly forms dissipating into the air, though more appeared to take their place.
Morgan darted through the chaos, throwing enchanted daggers at the spectral warriors and setting traps to slow their advance. "We need to focus on that Seal!" he shouted.
Eira nodded, channeling her magic into a concentrated beam of light that struck the altar. The Obsidian Seal shuddered but held firm, the runes glowing brighter in defiance.
"The guardian is feeding it power!" she realized. "We have to sever its connection!"
Nightshade dodged another swing of the guardian's staff, countering with a slash that tore through its robes. Beneath the tattered fabric, its body seemed to be composed of shifting shadows, its form barely holding together. Yet its strikes were relentless, each one infused with the power of the Blood Moon.
"You're wasting your strength," the guardian taunted. "The Seal's power cannot be undone by mortals."
Nightshade smirked, his blade glowing faintly as he poured his own energy into it. "We'll see about that."
He feinted to the left before delivering a powerful upward slash, severing the guardian's staff in two. The figure staggered, its red eyes flaring in anger. "You dare—"
Before it could finish, Castalia's hammer came crashing down on its back, the impact sending it to its knees. "Yeah, he dares," she said with a grin.
Eira seized the moment, unleashing another beam of light at the Seal. This time, the runes began to crack, their glow flickering.
The guardian let out an unearthly scream, its form dissolving into tendrils of shadow. The spectral warriors faltered, their forms wavering before vanishing entirely.
"Now!" Morgan shouted, pointing at the Seal.
Nightshade and Castalia charged the altar together. The Umbral Edge and Breaker's Call struck the Seal in unison, their combined force shattering it into fragments. A surge of energy exploded from the altar, throwing the group back as the light of the Blood Moon seemed to waver.
When the dust settled, the room was eerily silent. The oppressive red light had faded, replaced by the soft glow of the moon they had known. The fragments of the Obsidian Seal lay scattered across the floor, their power extinguished.
The group regrouped, their exhaustion evident but their spirits lifted.
"Is it over?" Castalia asked, wiping sweat from her brow.
Eira examined the fragments. "The Seal's power is broken, but this was only a piece of the curse. The Blood Moon's influence is still out there."
Morgan frowned. "Then this was just a test. Whoever—or whatever—is behind this will know we're coming."
Nightshade sheathed the Umbral Edge, his expression grim. "Let them know. This was a warning—for them."
As they exited the fortress, the normal moonlight bathed the valley, and the howls of the Bloodhounds were no more. But the group knew their journey was far from over. The Blood Moon's curse was only the beginning, and the darkness ahead would demand even greater sacrifices.