"Has it started yet?"
"I think it was supposed to start after midday?"
"What are your thoughts on it?"
"I hope he gets what he deserves!"
A group of Albrook residents were gathered in front of the city hall where a significant event was about to take place. Today, a criminal named Ivor would be put on trial, and his fate would be decided by the city lord, Arthur Valerian. Many of the residents were unsure about the whole situation, feeling that it was being blown out of proportion. However, they couldn't hide their desire to see Ivor punished.
"They tried to force my sister to work for them. Those bastards exploited my father's gambling addiction against our family! If it weren't for the guards... I don't even want to imagine what would have happened..."
One of the younger men shared his story, and many others chimed in immediately after.
"Did you hear about what they did to people there? They were selling their insides! One of my uncles disappeared after visiting one of those gambling dens; he might have been one of the victims..."
The crowd recoiled in shock, but they were all aware of the news about what was happening in those places. Body parts had been discovered, and several families had already identified the remains. Some individuals were sobbing, while others glared with anger, seeking justice. A large gathering had formed, all with a vested interest in the outcome. Would the nobleman truly punish the wealthy criminal, or would it be a mere slap on the wrist? Given the gravity of the situation unfolding before them, it felt like a potential precedent for the future.
"Make way!"
Shouted one of the soldiers, commanding the crowd to part as the group approached. The clattering of hooves and the creaking of the carriage filled the air, creating an atmosphere of anticipation. As the onlookers cleared a path, their eyes were drawn to the mysterious carriage. Its lack of windows and sturdy metal construction hinted at the importance of its contents.
Speculations ran wild among the crowd, each person eager to catch a glimpse of the supposed prisoner held within. At the forefront of the procession stood Sir Wayland, an imposing figure renowned for his bravery and skill. His presence alone commanded respect, and whispers of his recent heroic deeds circulated among the people.
"Did you hear? He single-handedly subdued that monstrous man in a matter of moments!"
"Yes, I heard he had no trouble defeating the other Knight either. Some even speculate that he may be stronger than the other Knight Commanders in the region..."
"That would certainly be reassuring..."
The crowd buzzed with excitement and admiration for the knight. Despite the lack of concrete knowledge about his true character, the people of the city held him in high regard. There were no tarnishing rumors surrounding him, and even his past as a skilled runesmith only added to his air of mystery.
Although he had once been embroiled in a feud with the dwarven union, it seemed that most individuals remained indifferent or neutral towards the matter. Sir Wayland's stoic demeanor and aloofness made it difficult for anyone to truly know him. He rarely engaged in idle chatter, making him an enigma to those who sought to unravel his true intentions. This became even more difficult after he ascended to the prestigious rank of Valerian Knight.
The carriage soon arrived at the end of the road, just before the recently expanded city hall. This building had undergone several changes, with a new courtroom now incorporated. Today, it would be used to handle not one, but two high-profile prisoners. The soldiers swiftly moved to the back of the carriage to open it up. From within, they could see a towering figure emerging, his hands and legs securely shackled.
It was a formidable individual, belonging to the mighty Goliath race. His towering frame stood in stark contrast to the ordinary farmers and shop clerks who had gathered nearby. As he stepped out of the carriage, a hushed silence fell over the crowd. Despite his battered and bruised appearance, an aura of unease permeated the air. This individual was renowned and feared by all who knew of him. The chains that held him in place didn’t seem like they would hold if he ever decided to run wild.
“Get a move on prisoner!”
“...I’m going to ki…”
Two guards emerged from the sides, brandishing spears aimed at the man's head. The imposing figure glared defiantly, attempting to issue a threat. However, before he could finish his sentence, his body suddenly gave way. He was compelled to drop down onto one knee as the shackles around his hands and legs emitted a pulsating red glow. Runic symbols materialized across the shackles, inflicting excruciating pain upon him.
“Is he wearing a slave collar?”
“It must be similar, he looks to be in a lot of pain.”
“Good, that bastard should suffer, he is a damn murderer!”
As soon as the onlookers realized that the man was unable to retaliate, the noise level rose once more. Some individuals, fueled by their anger and contempt, began hurling rotten fruit and rocks at the lumbering figure making his way towards the city hall. Amongst the chaos, a stone struck Ivor's head, cutting his eyebrow and causing blood to stream down his face. Before he could express his indignation through a shout, the familiar magical effect surged through his shackles, incapacitating him once again.
“That’s enough, bring them into the building.”
Only when the Knight Commander raised his hand to produce some type of translucent energy shield did the people stop. It was clear that they wanted to make this man pay for all of his sins but before the sentence was done, the man needed to stay alive.
“I must ask you to remain civil, the ones to punish him and others like him are us and not you.”
The commanding voice of the Knight Commander resonated through the crowd, instantly silencing everyone present. With the Knight Commander leading the way, the prisoners were escorted into the city hall. However, not everyone was granted entry into the trial room. Only individuals in influential positions or officials representing the common folk were allowed to participate.
The entire area was now surrounded by the new city guard, their armor gleaming with an unprecedented level of pristine cleanliness. Ever since a deal had been struck with the dwarven union, procuring magical equipment in large quantities had become considerably easier. Gradually, Arthur's personal army was taking shape, and if given enough time, his reputation would likely soar to new heights.
…
‘This was easier when the people were made of wood…’
Roland swung open the imposing double doors, revealing the grandeur of the newly constructed juridical chamber where Arthur stood, already poised and ready. Roland's purpose for the day was to serve as a bodyguard, the final line of defense in case an escape attempt was made. However, given his prior introduction to the current thieves guild master, things were expected to go down smoothly.
Even if an attempt was made, it would probably not be during the actual trial. The more reasonable time would be when the prisoners were being transported or held in the prison dungeon. Attacking a place like this in broad daylight was not something even the most courageous thief would do.
‘Those two didn’t really have many friends, they were still expanding their influence in the city. Plus that woman has to keep her end of the bargain…’
A deal was struck with Madam Hanako, the Thieves Guild Master. He promised not to disclose her secret to anyone, including Arthur, in exchange for her cooperation. The city was looking at an era free of criminals like Ivor, who traded their organs for profit. However, this did not mean that individuals who gambled their lives away would be absolved by the city. Instead, they would be transformed into debt slaves and required to work off their debts.
“You can’t be serious, my people will kill you in your sleep!”
While he was thinking about the future, Ivor began angrily shouting at Arthur. The man was now a paper tiger, everyone that was involved with him had been made docile by their new associate. It was true that some plans were made for an assassination but no one was willing to take the deal. Murdering a Valerian Noble deep inside of their own territory was just bad business and the money to compensate for such a dangerous mission was not there.
“Someone please quiet that man down…”
Arthur replied with a hint of disappointment in his voice. Roland was aware that his noble friend had anticipated a proper trial. Arthur had invested significant time and effort in preparing for the event, but his opponent was making it too effortless. Before Arthur could even mount his defense, his adversary began threatening the judge. Kabir, too, was not behaving any differently, attempting to remove the magically enhanced shackles instead of speaking. Both individuals realized they were trapped and chose to abandon any pretenses.
“Order in the court!”
Roland shouted while increasing the enhancement power on the man he previously defeated. His screams and grunts filled the area and caused some of the people gathered here to recoil in fright.
‘Well, at least this won’t take long. Maybe I’ll get to see Elodia to continue where we left off…’
His mind was not fully focused on the current issue at hand, as he carried the engagement ring safely tucked away in his pocket. Although he had hurriedly left his home to be here, his thoughts remained fixated on it. Despite the increased responsibilities he had acquired, thanks to the dungeon now under his control, he knew that other knights would soon take over. Once that happened, he would happily return to his previous occupation as a humble craftsman, a role he could see himself continuing until his last breath.
Although he had a rough start, he had grown to love his newfound profession over the years. He eagerly anticipated leaving this place and immersing himself once again in tinkering with his runic creations. The world had opened up to him, presenting countless opportunities to learn and experiment, and he couldn't wait to seize them.
…
"Ugh... How much longer will this take, Mr. Necromancer?"
A woman voiced her boredom while shouting from up top.
"Stop calling me that. My name is Kovak, Master Kovak to you! Damn, disrespectful underelf wench!"
Kovak snapped back in anger while trying to concentrate on a spell. His concentration was constantly being affected by the woman’s yammering which started to drive him insane. The group of undead minions reacted to these emotions by turning their empty skulls up to where she was resting.
"Hehe, so scary and cranky~"
The elven-like woman whose complexion was quite dark replied while chuckling. It was pitch dark outside but the group seemed unfazed by it. They were surrounded by nothing but rubble from a recent battle.
"Why am I always stuck with you caster bastards? Couldn't you at least make this more entertaining?"
Nonchalantly, she dangled one leg from a branch of a miraculously surviving tree. Suddenly, the ground began pulsating with power, revealing occult symbols that glowed an eerie green. Kovak continued his chants, and the spell's effects finally took hold as the entire area became enveloped in a radiant emerald aura.
“Oh? Pretty lights!”
The woman whistled in excitement as something finally interesting unfolded before her. Strange symbols illuminated the entire area, expanding across the land. In a matter of moments, shadowy figures materialized, resembling humanoid phantoms with distorted features.
"Hear me, spirits of the dead! Reveal to me the truth of that fateful day!"
Kovak commanded, forcefully striking his bony staff into the ground. His voice shifted, becoming incomprehensible to those around him. More and more phantoms flickered in and out of existence, until the entire place transformed into a small village, a mere representation of what once existed.
"Hey, hey! I recognize that place. Wasn't it a temple hatchery? And look, it even shows where the Abyssal Relic was!"
The woman exclaimed with nothing but excitement in her voice. This didn’t go to well with her usual partner that didn’t allow any type of transgression against their god.
"Show some respect for the relic!"
The man was larger than the necromancer and just like the rest a dark hood covered his face. His limbs on the other hand were squirming about and resembled something that should belong to a creature born of the abyss than a person’s limb.
"Huh? Why are you getting angry at me? It's just a phantom. The relic isn't here anymore. Those Solarian bastards made sure of that,"
The woman retorted.
"Ahh... I wish I had been here when it happened. The blood may have dried, but their scent lingers... It must have been so beautiful, all that death, all of that carnage.”
The woman grinned, rubbing her cheeks with both hands. This very place had witnessed a battle between her cult and the Solarian religion. Their relic had once stood here, converting many into their followers. Now, an illusion created by Kovak's death magic represented the echoes of the past. It showcased what the souls of their devoted believers had once interacted with, allowing the necromancer to reveal to everyone present what had once existed.
"Reveal to me the events of that day."
Kovak commanded, urging the phantoms to present him with the answer. The spell granted him glimpses of the past, with the clarity of the image depending on the amount of residual death energy in the area. While the Solarian church had the ability to purify this energy, they had hastily departed from the area after a fierce battle with the cult. The conflict had escalated into the skies, leaving this place devoid of anything of value and allowing Kovak to complete his spell.
“Oh, it’s changing.”
The woman's smile widened as a battle unfolded before their eyes. The green phantoms, representing their cult, clashed with orbs of light, symbolizing the Solarian church. This was a conflict that had occurred shortly after their side had introduced their corrupted abyssal-worm ships. However, this was not what the necromancer desired to see, so he pressed on with his command.
"Go back to the beginning. Show me what sparked this crisis. Show me who is responsible!" Kovak demanded. The scene shifted once more, revealing their comrades carrying something.
"They were transporting something, perhaps a new batch of followers?"
Kovak remarked to another member of the group, while the woman continued to act eccentrically. The rest of the group remained silent and disinterested, but the lone warlock nodded knowingly. They were all aware of the purpose of this village – a place to convert more followers by infecting them with their larvae.
"Someone attacked them during the ceremony."
Kovak observed. It became evident that their believers had been ambushed while gathering inside the temple. Subsequent deaths followed, prompting a counterattack from the caravan. It seemed that external assistance had been provided, which shouldn't have been possible. Their relic was supposed to render intruders unconscious, making them easily detectable by the sentries.
"What is this..."
The man was shocked by what he was seeing. It should have not been possible for the affected people to be woken up but they did. After the initial attack, somehow they were awoken and the phantoms identified the person. They were adorning a full body armor of some sort that was also radiating strange magics. It was possibly this person that was responsible and somehow they affected their relic.
“How can this be?”
The warlock was shocked, how could the spell be broken? Only individuals of peculiar power were ever safe from the influence and it didn’t seem that anyone of such raw power was among this group. By the looks of things the man with the armor was someone of tier 2 variety, something that should not have been possible became real.
Kovak muttered, continuing the spell and going back to the beginning. A peculiar occurrence caught his attention. A few of their followers seemed to struggle with a particular part of the caravan. They were rendered unconscious and left behind as the rest retreated into the temple. This strange event piqued Kovak's curiosity, leading him to focus on it. Gradually, the truth began to unravel as the eyes of the believers revealed the armored man to be the source. He had arrived with the group and somehow awoken from the abyssal dream.
“So, is that our target then?”
All focus was on this person. Thanks to the dead phantoms of their cult members they were able to reveal his armored form yet his face was still obscured. Too much time had passed or no one was able to make a glimpse before perishing. However, they now had a lead of who was responsible and a target to focus on.
"They arrived in a caravan that made its way to the city... We must uncover their identity and the reason behind their presence."
Their investigation would lead them back to the city where the outbreak had originated. Although not many of their cult members remained there, infiltrating the weakened city would not prove challenging. The influence of the Solarian church had diminished over time. Once they were there, their priority would be to identify the caravan and decipher the symbols it bore. With the assistance of the deceased believers, this task would be within reach. Their enemy would soon be exposed and held accountable for their defiance against their god.
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