The World Rumbles
It did not take long for the world to shudder. The King’s Rangers moved, quickly, when the Princess had been awakened, for such a powerful event had left a ripple of magic that spread in every direction for miles. Over the past two weeks, they have been quietly recruiting people in secret for a cause. For theirs was the role of support, to pave the way, to create safe places for her, and to gather intelligence. There were several volunteers at first, who had been brought to a small King’s Rangers camp. Within a week, it had been narrowed down to just a few, and the camp was abandoned. Already, rumours swirled about the Princess returning throughout the world, and thus, time was of the essence.
Two days ago, those who had joined Kouri’s cause from beyond the King’s Rangers arrived at one of their main bases, located in the mountain border between the Renaltan Remnants and the Kingdom of Rheinfeld. The mountains themselves made for a highly defensible position, being filled with dangerous of all sorts—natural, and unnatural. Tall peaks, low valleys, and little in the way of merciful terrain for travel beyond the occasional stream one could follow along.
The base itself was hidden in the side of a mountain, its entrance being able to lift or close on command. There were hints of magic, here and there, but most of it was used to disguise what might otherwise stand out of place. Once inside, the group would find themselves quickly led through a series of tight corridors—sufficiently so that one or two people could hold off several dozen intruders. Torches, lit on the wall but which produced no smoke, told of several minor tricks of magic used to illuminate the area. To help guide the King’s Rangers through, what to most of the group, seemed like an aimless but highly defensible maze. To the especially observant, it seemed almost perfectly designed to give orcs a sense of claustrophobia.
Two floors down, the party is given their own guest chambers to rest for a while. They still had two days left to decide. Two days left to change their minds.
None wavered.
Legends and Myths
Two days passed, surprisingly uneventfully, and the King’s Ranger tasked with watching over them—Marcus—gathers each of them, one by one, from the guest quarters. He is a man with red skin, and red eyes. Reflected within his eyes was little more than a stern expression, ensuring that each person had their wits about them. He wore heavy looking plate armour across most of his body—save for his head—and carried with him a large, two handed blade. It was slung across his back more for convenience’s sake than actual tactical benefit. He seemed largely unconcerned with the group around him. “We are going to meet the Princess. Be on your best behaviour.” A blunt statement, perhaps lacking the reverence that some other King’s Rangers held when they spoke of her.
He leads the group together one floor up, following the lit torches along the walls. There, he reaches a primary chamber—largely empty, save for the small pillars that helped hold the roof up. It was used for numerous activities, from diplomacy, to training. A few training dummies and pieces of equipment were still gathered, leaning against the east and west walls. The entire room was several feet in size, it could house a hundred—perhaps even two hundred men with ease, each engaged with training. Across the middle of the room, three braziers—running from north to south and spaced several feet apart—lit the room up with smokeless flames. The light reached around the room, though the light was dim at the furthest east and west walls of the room.
Standing by the middle brazier, a woman glances over toward them as they enter. The light flickering from the flame does not seem to bother her, and merely appears to show the graceful symmetry of her figure. The way her blue eyes raced across each of them as they entered the room, filled with an intense sort of curiosity, would almost draw the attention away from a rather unusual attribute—her blue hair. Dark blue, that ran to her lower back, and was immaculately maintained. Her dress held the same tone of blue, and was made with a rather exquisite kind of silk that the nobles would recognize as being reserved for the opulently wealthy. It appeared as soft as her skin, and the gentle way that her lips moved into a smile would leave weaker men with shaking knees at the sheer, untouched beauty before them. She truly appeared as though she had stepped out of the dreams of a poet, recounting the greatest love of his life. “Greetings. I am pleased to finally meet those who will be accompanying me.” Her tone was peaceful, though held a hint of uncertainty. Those well versed in the world of politics would recognize her attempting to present herself in manners most pleasant, and while most of it was natural, small things would give away that she was accentuating it into being something more than it really was.
A few feet to the left, another woman leaned against a pillar. She was dressed in a mix of leather and cotton, mostly brown or black in colouration, which contrasted to her sun-kissed skin. Her hair is a pleasant shade of black, her eyes, green like moss. She, too, also glanced over at the newcomers—though her eyes wandered with more interest over the men than the women. A giggle leaves her lips as she stands more at attention. “So here they are, Marcus. I like the looks of some of them, at least...” Marcus shakes his head, but otherwise closes the doors to the main chamber after the last of the group makes it inside. On her waist, two sheathed daggers rested. Undoubtedly, she had more hidden on her person.
Looking around the room, there were a few King’s Rangers. It was doubtless that there were at least a couple more, hidden somewhere, watching them all. Watching, and waiting.
From the darker parts of the room, an odd looking figure steps. His footsteps were heavy enough to echo through room as he stepped around a pillar, coming into sight the brazier closest to them all. Just a few feet from them, they could see his skin was dark, his eyes had a red hue in the iris. Almost akin to that of Marcus’s own eyes, though the dark skinned man’s eyes were a little brighter in hue. His voice was deep, but gentle, as he looked at one particular member of their group. “Kasienka.” He simply nods as he pulls back his hood, revealing his pointed ears—he is a Dark Elf. At his waist hung a pair of throwing axes, made out of a black metal. The same black metal also coated his two handed blade, which was slung on his back. Otherwise, he wore simple cloth and leathers—little in the way of armour, but his intimidating height suggested he knew how to defend himself without it. There was more about him that seemed rather unsettling, but he hid it well.
Furthest from them all, on the other side of the room, a short man leaned against the northern wall. The brazier furthest from the group managed to illuminate some of his features, but that was enough to determine he wasn’t one of the King’s Rangers. Purple robes adorned the man, along with an odd looking, flamboyant hat that sat upon his head. His hair, long and black, was unkempt, and the purple irises in his eyes would draw the attention of mages. Saying nothing as they entered, but watching them nonetheless, he quietly scratches underneath the chin of a crow, which stood on his shoulder and watched the group as well. He seemed to brim with magical power, ready to spring into action at any moment.
“It will be a few minutes more before the leader of the King’s Rangers will join us, with the last member of our traveling group.” The woman in blue spoke softly as she took a step away from the middle brazier, toward the group. Bowing her head respectfully to them, she continues speaking. “I wanted to meet all of you, and give you all a chance to speak with me or the others who will be accompanying you. I am Princess Kouri, I am the one you will all be protecting, and I hope not to disappoint you.”
Mikan steps forward and stretches, intentionally trying to draw attention to herself, and watching for those who look. “I’m Mikan! I know all about the stealthier things, and I will be helping to make sure that we can slip past some places, safe and sound.” Her accent was playful, and thick—revealing her Rheinfelder upbringing almost instantly.
Beside them, the King’s Ranger who had all led them to the chamber, takes a step away from them, turns to face them all, and speaks. Simply, and bluntly. “I am Marcus. I am the King’s Ranger assigned to personally bodyguard the Princess, and advise her in her decisions. I will train as many of you as I can in the ways of combat.”
The Dark Elven man then bows eloquently, and as he stands straight, he smiles—revealing the fangs in his mouth, and his true nature. “I am a Dark Elf, and a Vampire. I hold many years of wisdom and experience in this world, and will be using such things to guide you away from the more dangerous places of this world, wherever possible. As for my name? It is Hanus Wolfblood. Simple to remember.”
Finally, the man at the back of the room smiles, as his voice is heard over each person’s shoulder. Only those immune to magic would not hear his amused tone. “I am James... James the Illusionist, of carnival fame. Upon my shoulder sits my bird—Beatrice. You may have seen me once or twice if you lived in the Renaltan Remnants, or the Kingdom of Liveria. I am here as an expert of magic, and to help hide us all, if our little thief proves inadequate for the job.” Mikan glares at James, and then shudders, obviously unsettled by his magic.
It seemed that, with their introductions out of the way, it was now upon the group of newcomers to introduce themselves. Either to everyone, all at once, or to go for more personal, one on one introductions with specific people... Their choice.
Bright Lights, Dark Hearts
“She has awoken, My Lord.”
“I know this. You know this. Even the mortal world is seeming to become aware of this fact. This is not news to me.”
“I am merely reporting facts, instead of rumours, My Lord. I can confirm that she has awoken.”
“Can you confirm her death for me?”
“No, we have just disc--”
“Then your news is meaningless to me.”
“I have hunted her for a thousand years... I will have her head, one way or another. All I am doing here is telling you that--”
“That you have been a failure for a thousand years. My personal failure, that I uplifted. A personal failure that has resulted in even our own kind wondering whether what I ordered you to do was right, or at the very least, useful.”
“I paid the price for that...”
“You got off lightly for your failure. Killing her will be the only way to redeem yourself, do you understand?”
“Yes. I understand, My Lord.”
“Good. Then get out of my sight, and use your scouts. Use your spies. Use whatever resources we have available to hunt her down and then kill her. One mortal girl should not be much trouble for you, considering how many you have enraptured before.”
“Your resources are limited. I will need more.”
“What did you have in mind, Typhon?”
“An old ally of ours. One that has been useful in the past... Garrett, is what I am asking for.”
“Done. Just be sure to kill him as well when the princess is dead. I would hate to see what imaginative uses he would have for the body that could interfere with our plans.”
“Naturally, My Lord. I will not fail you.”
“See to it that you do not. Hemmungtong has long missed the sounds of your screams, and I would be hard pressed not to give him what he wants if you should fail me again.”
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