Moving his fingers through the coarse sand, Admiral Fowler took a deep breath as he mustered the strength to look up. Nothing but chaos ensued him. The sound of clashing swords and men shouting was at the forefront of his mind as he tried to get back on his feet. A familiar man rushed over to his side, bringing his right arm around him as he stated.
Hang on, Admiral! I’ll get you out of here.
Looking up at Declan, Fowler placed his hand onto his chest, taking a few steps back as he replied.
I’m fine, just hand me a blade.
Concerned, but understanding of the Admiral’s wishes, Declan picked up a sword from a dead sailor who was lying on the coast. As he handed it over to him, the ground shook as a vanghoul came running straight for them. With a fuming expression, Fowler readied himself and stared into the eyes of the beast as he mumbled.
I’ll put you out of your hideous existence…!
As the vanghoul prepared to swing his axe, a rain of arrows fell upon him by the command of General Galeran. Several Stormhold units had established battle formations to protect the officers by Nathan’s order. With countless arrows sticking out of its body, the vanghoul crashed into the ground before Fowler’s feet. The Admiral didn’t seem all that pleased as he was shouting.
Bloody hell, I had him!
Slowly trying to get back up, the beast grunted. In the shortest amount of time, the Admiral angrily stabbed his blade through its skull, finishing him off as the General approached. Guardsmen hastily formed a defensive line next to them with their shields covering from the ground up. Declan moved over to Galeran with concern as he asked.
Have you seen the Captain?
No, but we have yet to make a total count of everyone still alive. People have come ashore all the way down the coast, so it’s possible that he made it.
Looking over at the Admiral who was brushing wet sand off his clothes, Nathan continued.
We’ve almost secured the shoreline. The vanghouls have been pushed inland, but we have yet to see any signs of their leaders. These are uncharted lands, so we’ll have to proceed with caution. It is of the utmost importance that we establish a garrison as soon as possible.
Aye, shall we secure this area and build it against the shoreline? We don’t know what else lurks in these jungles.
That’s probably the best solution, but first, we need to deal with this threat.
Turning his attention towards the soldiers, the General drew his lion engraved blade and pointed it at the vanghouls coming out of the forest, bellowing firmly.
Form shield formations and push them back!
With wall shields readied, the units formed two rows of protective formations with spears pushed out from the side and at the top. Marching towards the beasts who were fighting fiercely, the troops engaged with a boosted morale from the officers who fought alongside them. The mud skinned creatures tried to break through the barricade but to no avail. Spears were launched through their bodies when they attacked, and several had been killed before a horn was sounded from within the deep jungle.
With a lot of blood spilled, the soldiers of Stormhold struck down the remaining vanghouls on the beach. The rest were heading inland to regroup, but this small defeat was nothing in the eyes of the beasts. Gazing up at a cliff in the distance, Declan noticed one of them standing tall with a large battle-axe in the shape of a cleaver. His confident stance and the fact that the vanghouls were rallying towards his location, gave him the idea that he would be one of their commanders. However, it did not seem like they were planning to follow up with another strike yet as they vanished slowly in between the trees. In the same direction was a few stone pillars reaching close to a vast canopy. The former Admiral then informed about his discovery and requested that they should investigate to see if they could make use of whatever was hiding in the distance.
Only moments later, a Stormhold scout party was sent out. Taking the lead of the unit was Declan, he was hopeful that this would be a place to establish a foothold. As he pushed annoying branches out of his path, he eventually arrived at the location. It was a ruined city, and based on how much mother nature had reclaimed, it was ancient. It looked completely abandoned. Vines were covering what was left of the buildings, and moss had coated most of the walkways. Nonetheless, this was a perfect spot to set up a garrison that could be defended. Word was soon sent out to the remaining forces on the beach that a formidable opportunity had been discovered. Now it was essential to form barricades and secure the area before the vanghouls returned.
The Temple of Felgarth
Far beyond the mist of the mountains of Han’Lanok lies the ancient temple of Felgarth. It’s built on the side of a peak, called the High Mountain, and is enclosed in snow all year round. Still standing on its original slate foundation, the temple has survived harsh winters and all sorts of environmental disasters over the years.
With his black hood covering his face, an old man walked up the steps towards the sanctuary. Fur was wrapped around the runic engraved plates of his armor to protect him from the cold just as much as to protect him from anything else. A tall stone statue of a robed man was neatly placed before the entrance with two sets of stairs going up around it. Standing by the gate was a young boy around his mid-teens who seemed frustrated with something. He had his right hand wrapped around an ancient tome as he walked back and forth, not seeing the man approach before he stood right beside him. He halted immediately and gazed up into the wrinkled blue eyes of this man, stating.
Oh, I’m sorry, I did not see you there.
The young boy’s attention swiftly shifted over at the man’s attire, more specifically, the engraved letter “A” on the breastplate. Clearing his throat, the man spoke with a calm tone in his voice.
What do you have there?
He was referring to the book in his hands, which the boy handed over and said while expressing annoyance.
It’s a dumb history book or something. I can’t believe my father sent me here to study a bunch of dead men.
Looking at the title of the book, the man read it out loud as he opened it.
“The Fall of the Spiritual Circle,” you seem to be a bit young to take on something like this, is this on behalf of Vazayus?
Yes, father personally requested Elder Uuthar to teach me about ancient arts, but all we do here is read and waste time.
What’s your name, child?
It’s Archus Stormcaller.
The man took a few steps toward the stone fence, looking down the mountainside as he continued.
Not everyone has the privilege to be part of such a bloodline, Archus. I would take this opportunity to listen to what your elders advise if I were you. Lord Aethos acts in the best interest of his loved ones, that is something I can relate to.
You know him?
Before he got to reply, a voice came from an elderly man by the gate. He had a firm tone as he addressed the boy.
Archus, go back inside now.
Young Stormcaller looked up at the man in his dark gray robe, who was holding the gate open as he gestured for him to go into the temple. The hooded man handed the book back over to Archus, allowing him to do as he was told. Glancing over at the robed man as the boy went inside, he spoke.
High Elder Vazayus Uuthar… you’ve come a long way since we last spoke.
I’ll admit I haven’t been looking forward to this day. Are you only bringing news, or should I summon the council?
I thought you would have stepped down by now. Are you still in league with Elvanor?
Walking down the steps, Vazayus joined him over by the fence as he scratched his sleek gray beard, continuing.
You know my stand, I won’t take up arms against you, but I won’t support you either. The Order of Felgarth takes a neutral stand in this blood feud. We’re only scholars here, the fighters departed for Elvanor a long time ago.
I’m not here to force your hand, only to retrieve the artifact. The preparations are almost complete, and I need it
Taking a heavy sigh as he looked up at the gentle snowflakes falling, he nodded and asked for him to follow inside.
With a gust sweeping across the rugged stone floor, the hooded man followed Vazayus through the hall and down a set of stairs. Torches lit up the dark corridors and the dusty assortments on the tables and shelves. Following the pathway, they eventually ended up next to a chamber with iron bars covering the wooden door. The room was completely empty aside from a pedestal with a sigil on top. Removing his hood, the old man moved towards it as his dark gray hair laid still on his shoulder pads. When slowly reaching out for it, the sound of the door being locked came from behind him. Remaining still, the man spoke in a low voice as he clenched his fists.
You’re making a mistake…
Elder Uuthar calmly replied as he held his wrinkled hand around the iron.
These bars are laced with the shade of Moonfire, I don’t recommend trying to force your way out of this.
A silent stare of disappointment was thrown back at him as he lowered his voice, continuing.
You don’t have the right to control life when the only thing you bring with you is death. Grandmaster Kin’thalos was right when he said you would return to this place, eventually.
Slightly turning his head to the left with his eyes looking back in the corridor, Vazayus beckoned with his hand as he spoke.
Apprentice Reeves. Come forward.
Stepping out of the shadows was a young woman with icy blue eyes and pale hair reaching down to the middle of her back. She approached the chamber as she asked curiously.
Yes, High Elder Uuthar?
I need you to ride for Elvanor immediately, inform Theron that we got the betrayer secured. And Nimira, be quick about it.
With a simple nod, she walked away. Vazayus turned back towards his prisoner, who was now standing on the other side of the door, staring into his eyes. The annoyed expression covering his face shot a cold chill down Uuthar’s spine. Starting to walk back through the corridor with his hawk shaped nose held high, Vazayus uttered.
We all have to atone for our sins, and what you did to the Order is unforgivable. Your anger, your hatred, it corrupts everything it comes near. I wish there were another way, I truly do, but you’ve sentenced yourself to death, Lord Anarious.
The old man angrily kept his eyes locked on Uuthar as he walked away, eventually disappearing in the shadows.
The Underground City
Feeling completely paralyzed, Feregreth tried to break away from Gathon’s unnatural stare. Although, it wasn’t before Fraya grabbed tightly around the wound on his arm that his focus shifted. Moaning in pain, he glanced over at her in confusion, but she took his hand before he got to say anything. Dragging him with her, she spoke lightly.
We need to get out of here, now. Just keep listening to my voice, and don’t mind what’s happening around you, okay?
What… are you saying?
I’ll explain once we’re out, just hurry.
The cave started swaying back and forth. It felt similar to being completely wasted. The sound was diminishing, and his footsteps vanished. He was about to lose control over his body, or so that was how it felt like. Grabbing hold of her arm, he tried to speak.
Fraya… I’m, I’m losing… myself.
Breath and listen.
She started humming as the two were rushing through the tunnel. The theme was soon the only thing that was on his mind. Eventually, his vision began to fade into a black moonless night, and shortly after, he saw someone appear right in front of him before he lost consciousness.
The sound of rustling leaves, a gentle breeze, and the birds singing from the edge of the forest. That was what he heard and felt as he slowly opened his eyes. Feeling drained and exhausted, Feregreth raised his hand before his eyes, seeing the blurriness dissipating. A conversation between two people caught his attention as he looked to the side. Fraya and another elven man were sitting next to a campfire. From what he gathered, they were on a cliffside next to a forest, which was surprisingly tranquil. Catching a small part of the conversation, the Captain listened to what this man said.
I know that, but you can’t just venture out like this when you’re highborn. What if the elders found out about…?
Hush…
She noticed that Feregreth was awake and gave him a little smile as she approached him. The man walked alongside her over to him with a displeased look in his eyes, listening to Fraya speak.
Hey, are you feeling better?
Grunting a bit as he sat up, he nodded and replied.
Yeah, I’m fine. What was that back there? Some kind of poison?
Not exactly, it used to only be an elven trait. Some elves have mastered the ability to paralyze their prey by merely staring into their eyes. I’ve never seen it been this strong before or even worked on humans, he must have…
The elf next to her interrupted while grabbing a light hold of her arm, saying.
By Ashira’s Light, what are you doing? You don’t even know this man. He is not entitled to learn about us.
Quiet, Vulner! I’ll make up my own mind about who I share what with. I’m so tired of Ni’rosh…
Taking a deep breath as he scratched his chin, he turned around and took a few steps away. Apparently, it was no point arguing with her. Squinting slightly at her, Feregreth asked curiously.
But that thing is a vanghoul? How can he do that?
She took a moment to look at Vulner who was shaking his head, trying to tell her that she shouldn’t disclose anymore. Moving over to him, she sat down beside him on the ground, continuing.
It’s not important right now.
He acknowledged that she wasn’t going to share more on the subject, so he nodded slowly. As he was getting back up on his feet, he searched his pockets with a bewildered look on his face. Once he had emptied them, he glanced back at her.
Have you seen a carved stone, an artifact of some sort?
No, why?
I think I dropped it in the cave. I’m not sure what it was, but my old mentor was adamant that I couldn’t lose it.
Breaking the silence, Vulner stated as he adjusted his sword sheath.
You can’t go back in there, you barely made it out alive.
Yeah, you’re probably right about that. Besides, dressed like this, I won’t be able to take a single hit from one of those things without getting split in half.
Hinting at a smile while rolling his shoulders, the elf pointed at an old wooden crate on the ground. He informed him that he had procured it for him on Fraya’s behalf. The Captain walked over and knelt beside it, gently unlocking the crate. It contained brown leather garments with plated iron protection. The armor looked aged, yet it was in decent condition. A plain brown cloak and tabard was also part of the set, which indicated that no organization or faction was represented. Feregreth gazed up at Vulner and asked with an intrigued tone of voice.
Where did you get this?
It was part of an old rebel fleet that fought against the tyranny of one of your kings. A ship of theirs had capsized on these shores. I discovered it a long time ago and chose to bury the crate. Not because I intended to give it away like this, but it was an interesting piece of your people’s history.
Shifting his attention over to Fraya, Vulner continued as he readied himself.
I need to get back to my post, are you sure you’re not coming back with me?
Yes, I’m going to stick with him until he gets back to his people.
As you wish. May Ashira’s light guide your path.
He respectfully bowed to her and gave the Captain a quick nod before heading out. As he was walking away, Feregreth thanked him for his troubles and for the equipment, which he replied with a simple wave. The glare of the sun shot gently through the clouds on the sky, reflecting off a silver necklace Fraya held in her hand. She seemed troubled by it as she was staring on the fine engravings, the elegant shape, and the sheer beauty of the jewelry. Kneeling beside the campfire as he looked over at her, Feregreth asked.
That’s nice, did he give it to you?
Hesitantly nodding, she sat down next to him and held it up against the sun. Glimmering in the light as it swung back and forth, she took a deep breath before she spoke.
He’s a Temple Ranger, it’s similar to what you would call a Knight.
I figured he was a soldier, but he is also nobility, huh?
He is. His family has control over legions, which makes him a powerful ally to my grandfather.
Uh-huh, I see. I caught the part where he said you were highborn, which means you’re probably nobility too, am I right? That also explains why he gave you a gift rather than forcing you to go back home.
She glanced over at him without saying anything for a while. Her expression was enough for the Captain to understand what was going on. Clearing his throat, he continued as his eyes met hers.
Have you told him how you feel?
Aren’t you blunt? Of course, I haven’t. Vulner and I go way back. We grew up together and have been friends for a long time. I know I’ll lose him, lose everything if I did.
I’m sorry. I’m not a noble myself, but I’ve been working with a few over the years, so I can somewhat understand the responsibility.
Hinting at a little smile, she got back up on her feet and started covering up the campfire. She informed him that they needed to get moving and that she would teach him a few tricks for how to protect himself. Walking over to the crate that Vulner had brought forward, the Captain picked up the garments and began to equip himself with the armor set. The new objective was to regroup with the Stormhold soldiers. Based on the information she had obtained from her friend, the survivors were fortifying themselves in the ruined city of Al’huran, near the coastline.
The Stormhold Castle
Lying on his back on the bed, Aethos was in deep slumber. However, something seemed off with him as he was getting twitches resembling a nightmare. Inside his mind, glimpses of fire, screams and capsized ships appeared before him. He could see people swimming towards the shore, exhausted and in despair of their fellow men slaughtered beside them. The vision continued below the ground and was drawn towards the runic artifact that Feregreth should have had in his possession, but it was lying in the palm of a much greater threat. The vanghoul Overlord was now staring into his eyes, stating firmly.
There you are…!
Breaking out of his dream, Aethos woke and sat up in the bed with his entire face covered in sweat. He could feel his rapid heartbeat as he placed his feet on the floor. Moving the palm of his hand upwards against his bushy eyebrows, he began to calm down. After having gathered himself, he glanced around the room and grabbed his robe before he walked out.
Out in the corridor, he came across the Prince who was accompanying a young Lady out of his chambers. Taking a moment to wrap his head around it, Aethos asked while looking at the girl who were leaning against the muscular arm of the Prince.
Isn’t this one of your sister’s court ladies, Prince David?
With a smirk on his face, he replied as he gestured for her to leave.
So, what if it is? I doubt you will inform Alex about it.
Oh, I’m not getting involved in whatever this is, but you’re the Crown-Prince, remember that.
Shaking his head with a given expression, David walked away without paying the old man any further attention.
Sitting behind the desk in his study, King Marcus was signing a few scrolls when Aethos barged in. The concerned expression on the old man’s face made the King get up from his seat and ask confused.
What is going on, I thought you had gone to sleep hours ago?
It’s the fleet, Marcus. I have a bad feeling we got played.
What do you mean? Have you gotten word?
He was coming out from behind the desk, approaching his friend as he listened carefully.
No, but the talisman has found its way into the enemies’ hands. I just saw glimpses of terror, destruction.
And you’re sure this vision of yours is accurate?
I wouldn’t have come to you otherwise.
Grabbing a continental map, the King rolled it out on the table next to them and pointed at the city of Neandro in Scayles. Speaking with a questionable tone of voice, Marcus continued.
Did you see anything about their forces, if they’re going to assist us?
Marcus, there were no barren lands from what I saw. It was a dense jungle with a volcano peeking through in the horizon. It’s not Scayles, I believe it’s the Vanquished Island.
Where is that?
It’s a… it’s a place of banished souls. The island is located south of Fariondor, somewhere in the Depths of Scayracosh.
Squinting confused over at Aethos as he quoted the name of the island. He was put back by this as it made no sense. Aethos leaned towards the table as he pointed his finger at the ocean in the bottom right corner of the map.
Here, enclosed in mists and storms. It’s the original purgatory of the hybrid, Zhogat Wolfskull, the banished. It’s a piece of land hidden from the rest of the world, which holds an imprisoned species, the vanghouls.
What? How long have you known this? Why haven’t you told me about this island before now?
It’s not our lands, Marcus. There is someone else who is tasked with ensuring that nobody leaves that island.
Nobody? What about our people?
Slowly shaking his head while he kept eye contact with his majesty, Aethos seemed aware that no one would get away from there alive. Turning around as he looked up into the carved oak ceiling, Marcus sighed and asked in a low voice.
So, what you’re saying is that we’ve lost our most valuable officers, men, friends… everyone?
Walking over to a corner table where he picked up a crystal bottle, the King began pouring himself a glass of a strong beverage. He was breathing slowly as his mind started drifting into the countless scenarios that he could think of, trying to understand the magnitude of what he had been told. Sitting down with his glass resting in his hand, Marcus continued.
How could they have ended up there in the first place? The plan was to set sail for Scayles. Fariondor is to the east, it’s a long journey that deviates from the path.
I… I don’t know, Marcus. Perhaps our people decided to follow their ships. It doesn’t matter now.
From what you saw, were they alive?
It was chaotic, but yes, I believe so. They were fighting hard.
Loosening his shirt collar as he looked down at his desk, Marcus slammed his hands against the wood, nearly shouting.
I will not accept that their fate is sealed. You have not only counseled me through the darkest of times, old friend, but you’ve kept your own people safe from horrors countless times. Is there anything you can do to save mine? I know your order isn’t accepting of using your teachings for things like this, but we can’t lose these people.
Marcus, I…
For the sake of our future, will you travel with me to retrieve our men?
With saddened eyes, Aethos nodded in agreement as he informed him that he would make the preparations needed, and order the Stormhold Pride to be readied for departure. Glancing over at the gold-trimmed armor that was put on display in the room, the King uttered with a grateful tone.
Thank you, I will make it up to you one day.
With a simple nod, Aethos left the room to take care of the tasks at hand. With his eyes locked on the Stormhold insignia carved into the breastplate, the King approached the armor and placed his hand onto the steel. His mindset was on the importance of securing his men, who were now fighting for their lives at an uncharted island.