The villagers moved like a collective horde, their eyes staring blankly into the emptiness and their faces cold and expressionless. “The Lord of Decay will offer us salvation.” “The King of Death will lead us into his light.” “All things must perish and return to his fold.” Holding flaming torches and pitchforks in their hands, the villagers moved while chanting praises of Zepheroth. Aurelia pulled Ezra by his hand and urged him to get a move on. “What is going on here?” Ezra felt as if he was living a nightmare. Everything felt too surreal, and nothing made sense. “They were all okay just a few minutes ago. We can’t leave them like this.” “This isn’t in our hands anymore. Only Ishani’s priests can help them now,” Aurelia said, firing a blank shot in the air. The villagers, however, did not even flinch. It became clear that they were no longer in their senses. Leaving them to their fate, Aurelia and Ezra mounted their horses and returned to Aranor. “It is best if we don’t m
The town of Aranor sprang into life with the first rays of the morning sun as the priests from the shrine of Ishani blew the sacred conch shell to signal the start of the festivities on the first day of Ishtara. Traveling merchants, traders, and sellers of various baubles and knickknacks set up their shops and stalls in the middle of the town square, displaying bright signs and posters to advertise their products. The whole town donned festive colors with brightly colored dahlias and tulips decorating the cottages and huts. Children played in the streets while women flocked to the shrine to offer their prayers to the Goddess. The open field behind the shrine of Ishani was transformed into a fairground with jugglers, magicians, and fire breathers setting up shop in designated locations. Meanwhile, the bards and mimes performed on stage, inviting both humans and non-humans alike to enjoy their show. Following in the footsteps of ancient familial tradition, Lord Sebastian went down to
Count Gressil arrived in a black carriage drawn by four purebred Dravarian Stallions with fiery red manes and glossy brown coats. His carriage was accompanied by a four-door stagecoach that carried his elite knights. As the Count dismounted from his carriage, his attendant ran up to place a stool under his foot and lay a silk carpet down on the path before him. His principal advisor, a surly-looking man wearing a pair of round-rimmed spectacles and a brown leather jacket whispered something in his ear while maintaining a peerless smile. Count Gressil was a well-built man with a square face and wavy black hair which skirted his shoulders. He was dressed in a black cloak with a thick furry collar and a gray leather jacket. Unlike his elite guards who were armed with blunderbuss rifles, Count Gressil chose to carry a modified black six-shot revolver on his hip and a curved dagger at his waist. The residents of Aranor flocked to catch a glimpse of the Count, but the town guards forme
What followed next was a whole minute of tense silence as this familial rivalry threatened to spiral out of control. Aurelia was furious to hear their conversation. She could no longer stand and watch her brother being insulted and ridiculed by the two rival families. “You forget that Cecilia is already betrothed to Ezra. What kind of mother would allow her own daughter to be a part of such a wager?” Aurelia asked, glaring at Lady Lillian. “I thought I had made it amply clear that my daughter was no longer interested in your crippled brother. But it seems like you want me to air out our private affairs in front of everyone,” Lady Lillian sneered. She then turned to Count Gressil and continued, “We are an honorable family, Your Excellency, but that does not mean I will ruin my daughter’s future with my own hands. As her mother, I must always keep her best interests in mind.” “I understand completely, my Lady,” Count Gressil replied reassuringly. Aurelia could not believe how the C
The High Priest realized something was wrong with Ramel, and it made him uneasy. “Are you alright, Lord Ramel? Nervous about the ritual?” he asked. Ramel’s face darkened as his eyes flashed in the dark. “I wish to be alone with the Goddess. Do you think perhaps you could wait outside?” he enquired, turning to face the priest while holding the dagger in his right hand. The High Priest felt a little uneasy about honoring this strange request, but since the Romanovs had always been generous toward Ishani’s devotees and helped build this shrine, he could not refuse. “Alright, Lord Ramel. I shall leave you alone with the Goddess. But do not tarry. You must be anointed in front of Ishani before sundown, or we cannot begin the consecration ceremony.” Ramel nodded politely. “I understand. I just need a few minutes alone with the Goddess. My heart has been feeling quite heavy these days, so I wish to confess my sins to her.” The High Priest acknowledged with a half bow and quietly walked
While the others were busy enjoying the festivities in Aranor, Ezra rode out of the north gate leading out of Aranor and soon arrived at Gimli's staue. He knew the only place he would be left alone at was Glenn’s abandoned hut. The blood mage had already moved to another cottage, deep in the woods, and his old house was completely empty. Ezra unlocked the door with the key Glenn had given him and headed straight inside. Once he was alone, he locked the door from the inside and walked up to the wooden table at the other end of the room. “That damn Jasenki just doesn’t know how to shut up!” he shouted, slamming his fists on the table. “And then there’s that bitch…Lady Lillian!” “You mustn’t let your emotions get the best of you, my dear Lord,” Marlin whispered into Ezra's ear. “That proud braggart will learn his lesson tomorrow. But for that, you need to prepare yourself first!” "I will humiliate him and his pathetic family after I win the hunt tomorrow. It will give him somethin
The two older knights tightened their grip on the reins of their horses and kept their eyes glued to the Behemoth. Since the knights belonging to the Order of the Holy Lotus were mostly engaged in protecting Ishani’s shrines and quelling religious uprisings, they had limited battle experience. The only monsters they had fought were low-level goblins and Salamancas. Although they were well equipped with weapons and armor, the knights from the Order of the Rose were all normal humans with no magical affinity. They were only trained in mounted warfare and hand-to-hand combat, but had little knowledge of fighting the undead. Seeing their younger companions getting eaten alive by the Behemoth made the knights realize just how much of a danger they were in. They weren’t dealing with a mindless ghoul or a skeletal warrior, but a cursed abomination that was strong enough to rip a fully-grown troll in half. And to make matters worse, unlike a troll or a Cyclops, the Behemoth was quick
Gunther aimed for the Behemoth’s head and fired with deadly precision. But the abomination shielded its face with its bulky arms, deflecting the iron pellets. “It looks like you have a tough hide.” Realizing that normal rounds were never going to be able to penetrate the Behemoth’s thick skin, Gunther reloaded his gun with magic bullets. The rifle went off with a loud bang as the coachman fired again. This time his shots hit the Behemoth in its bloated belly, squishing one of the eyeless faces growing under its navel. The Behemoth shrieked and stumbled back. Inside the carriage, the priestess was trying her best to get the chambermaid to follow her, but she was too terrified to step outside. “I don’t want to be eaten alive. We can’t go out there…That monster will see us!” the chambermaid quivered, trembling from head to toe. “Let’s pray to the Goddess. I know she will save us.” The priestess grabbed the chambermaid’s hand and tried to pull her from her seat. “Listen to me, child