The moon hung low in the sky, its pale glow illuminating the thick dark forest. A shadow darting in between the forest trees, the figure silent as a predator; steps precise, before pausing near a hidden entrance, carved into the side of a cliff. She glanced over her shoulder for a moment, carefully scanning the dark forest to see if anyone had followed her. Every rustling leaf and distant shadow keeping her on edge.
Raven's chest heaved; she was exhausted as she pushed open the heavy wooden door; the cold damp air, inside what looked like a hideout, sending shivers down her spine. She stepped into the dimly lit hideout, her movements purposeful, despite the exhaustion that weighed on her limbs.
The sounds of muffled voices echoed through the stone walls, leading her deeper into the lair. Conan was waiting for her arrival. He stood at the center of the cavern, his broad shoulders stiff with tension. His piercing eyes, dark and unreadable, locked onto Raven the moment she entered, with a gaze that felt like blade against her skin. His jaws tightened, and a flicker of restrained fury burned beneath his composed exterior, making Raven feel uncomfortable.
Around him, was a small group of his most loyal followers, lingering. Their conversations gradually ceasing as they turned to watch Raven approach. The air was filled with unease. Raven set her shoulders firmly, standing tall and ready, meeting Conan's gaze without flinching. She tossed a rolled-up map onto the table between them.
"Here it is," she said, her voice sharp, cutting through the air, confident with a hint of defiance. Each word seemed deliberate, like a warning, as if daring anyone to question her. The tension in her tone made it clear that she had delivered what was expected, the map; but it also held a quiet challenge, as though she were waiting for the next move.
"The map to the Bloodmoon Amule t."
Conan didn't move immediately, his gaze moving between Raven and the map with calculating precision. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if assessing not just the map, but the woman who had brought it to him, searching for any sign of deception or hidden intentions. The room fell silent, the usual murmur of conversation from Conan's followers coming to an abrupt halt. All eyes were fixed on Raven and the map, the tension palpable. Conan's followers stood motionless, their presence barely felt, waiting for their leader's next move, as the silence stretched on, thick with anticipation.
Finally, after a moment of hesitation, he reached out picking up the map, carefully unfurling the map across the table. The edges curled slightly as he flattened it, revealing intricate details beneath the dim light that flickered from the fire torches above. It had in it corners, wolf-like runes and clawed designs that marked werewolf territories, pathways winding through forests, and the unmistakable mark of the Bloodmoon sigil in the center.
But as he leaned closer, something caught his eye. A barely visible line of text, etched in a silver thread, barely noticeable to the naked eye. It was a message, hidden among markings that were faint notations in a forgotten tongue, likely only decipherable by those with knowledge of the ancient werewolf lore.
"When the moon bleeds, the line of one blood shall unite, and the amulet will awaken"
These words were not strange to Conan; they carried a weight of destiny and power, hidden for those brave enough to seek its meaning."
"You did it," Conan muttered, his voice laced with disbelief that echoed softly in the cavern's stillness, as though he couldn't fully trust the reality before him.
Raven smirked, pride radiating from her like a flame. She planted her hands firmly on the table, leaning forward just enough to assert her presence.
"Of course I did. But it wasn't easy."
"Then explain," Conan said, his tone cold. "How did you manage to get the map," Conan asked, his tone sharp and laced with suspicion, "and Lycia? Raven, what did you trade to make it out alive?" Conan asked, his tone laced with a grim certainty, sensing betrayal. And it was no surprise; he knew what Raven was capable of.
Raven's mind replayed the events of the heist. The plan had been straightforward; infiltrate Cove's mansion during midnight hours. During which most of his pack were occupied, either playing cards or simply drinking. They had slipped inside undetected. Lycia had been her perfect pawn, her nimble fingers and stealth making her invaluable for retrieving the map. But things had unraveled faster than Raven anticipated.
"Lycia got caught because she hesitated," Raven said, her voice tight with frustration.
"We had the map in hand, but she heard something—a noise, a voice, I don't know. She froze. I didn't have time to wait for her, so I ran."
Conan's eyes narrowed.
"You abandoned her."
"I made a choice," Raven shot back, her tone defensive. "Do you think I had time to play hero? She was dead weight, Conan! I wasn't about to lose everything because of her hesitation."
"If I had stayed, we both would've been captured. Then where would we be? No map, no leverage. At least now we have this." She gestured to the map. Conan's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.
"And how exactly did you escape?"
Raven hesitated, the memory of her narrow escape from Cove's mansion flashing vividly in her mind. She had bolted through the mansion's corridors, clutching the map to her chest as shouts erupted behind her. She remembered the sharp tang of adrenaline as she leapt through a second-story window, her body twisting mid-air to avoid the claws of a pursuing guard. The landing had been brutal, her knees buckling as she hit the ground, but she didn't stop running until she reached the cover of the forest.
"I improvised," Raven said finally. "That's all you need to know."
Conan studied her for a long moment before turning his attention back to the map.
"And Cove?" Conan traced a finger along the map's intricate lines.
"Cove's obsession is clear. He thinks the map will lead him to power, but it's more than that. There's something personal for him in this. I'm sure of it." Raven's smirk returned.
"If that's true, then he'll stop at nothing to get it back. And that makes him predictable."
"Predictable doesn't mean harmless," Raven warned. "Cove's still dangerous, especially with Lycia in his grasp. We need to act fast."
"Act fast?" Conan's voice hardened.
"You think it's that simple Conan? Cove won't rest until he's torn apart every inch of Crimson City to find this map. And Lycia, she's not just a prisoner now. She's leverage." Raven said, her voice edged with urgency.
Conan tilted his head, a hint of curiosity flashing in his eyes.
"Leverage for what?" Conan lips pressed into a thin line.
"That's what we need to figure out. If we can't use her to our advantage, we'll have to ensure she can't be used against us."
Conan stood, stepping closer to Raven, an intimidating aura radiating from him.
"You'd better hope you do. Because if you don't, Raven; you'll wish I'd abandoned you instead."