The air was calm. From time to time, Elysia thought she perceived presences stirring in the surrounding trees and she, she nervously, stood still, trying to penetrate the mist that surrounded her with her eyes in search of moving shadows. Her encounter with her corrupt one had made her fully understand how dangerous the situation was, and she felt deep within her fear and anger.
Some of her anger was directed at herself for being afraid. She felt dizzy and embarrassed, and she decided that no matter what happened, she wasn't going to repeat the mistake of sitting still like a sheep to be killed.
"What was that?" Elysia asked, and Frey looked at her. “Don't you hear, Frey? Listen! It's like a chant!" Frey strained to catch the sound, but heard nothing. “We are close, very close.”
They continued to advance in silence, and as they moved through the mist, Elysia became even more wary; she left the path and took advantage of the tall grass to take cover. Frey followed her.
So at that moment, Frey could hear the chants, which seemed to come from about twenty throats. Some voices were human; others, hoarse and bestial. There were female voices and male voices mixed with the slow beat of drums, the crash of cymbals, and the discordant notes of flutes.
Elysia could make out a single word because it was repeated over and over: Lilith.
She shuddered. Lilith was the princess of the places, the dark goddess of lust. That name evoked the worst depths of depravity and was whispered in drug dens and vice houses all over the city by people so jaded they sought pleasures beyond human comprehension. It was a name associated with corruption, excess and the dark underbelly of society. For Lilith's followers, there was no stimulation too grotesque, no pleasure that was forbidden.
"The fog hides us." Elysia whispered to Frey.
"Silence! Keep quiet. We must get closer.”
They continued to crawl slowly, the tall, wet grass rubbing against Elysia's body, and before long her clothes were damp. She before her yes she could see bonfires that served as a guide in the middle of the darkness. The scent of burning wood and cloyingly sweet incense filled the air. She turned her head to look behind her hoping that no stragglers were going to trip over them, as she felt absurdly unprotected.
Inch by inch they advanced. Frey dragged his greatsword behind him. Elysia was so close to her mate that a finger grazed her sharp blade; she cut herself and she had to stop herself from screaming.
When they reached the edge of the grassy expanse, they saw a crude circle of six obscenely shaped stones; in the middle was a monolith. The stones glowed the green hue of some luminous fungus. Above each of them was a brazier that gave off clouds of smoke. Rays of pale moonlight illuminated an eerie scene.
Within the circle danced six masked humans. They wore long cloaks thrown back over one shoulder; exposed were the naked bodies, both female and male. On the fingers of one hand, the celebrants carried cymbals that they clicked together; the other hand held a birch branch with which they whipped the dancer before them.
Elysia saw that some bodies had lacerations, but the dancers didn't seem to feel any pain, perhaps due to the narcotic effect of the incense.
Outlining the circle, horrific silhouettes could be distinguished, lying down. The drummer, a huge man, had the head of a deer and cloven hooves, and near him sat a dog-headed piper with sucker-shaped fingers. A large group of corrupt men and women writhed on the ground near them.
Some bodies were subtly distorted: tall men with thin, very small heads; short, fat women with three eyes and three breasts. Other figures were hardly recognizable as humanoids. There were serpent men covered in scales, hairy wolf-headed beasts, and things that were all teeth, mouths, and other orifices. Elysia could hardly breathe as she watched the spectacle with growing fear.
The beat of the drums quickened, the rhythmic chant increased in tempo, and the flute notes grew even louder and more discordant. The dancers, prisoners of a greater frenzy as time progressed, whipped themselves and their partners more and more hard, until the bleeding wounds were clearly visible. Then there was the sound of cymbals, and all was silent.
Elysia thought they had been discovered, but she remained motionless. The incense smoke filling her nostrils seemed to amplify her senses, and she felt even more distant and disconnected from reality. Then, she was hit by a sharp, stinging pain in her flank, and she was startled to realize that Frey had elbowed her in the ribs; she was pointing to something beyond the circle of stones.
She strained to see what it was that loomed out of the mist, and she finally realized that it was the black carriage. Thanks to the sudden, startling silence, she could hear one of the doors open, and she held her breath as she waited to see what came from inside.
A silhouette began to take shape in the mist. She was tall, masked, and covered in a layer of various overlapping fabrics in numerous pastel colors. She moved with serene authority and carried a brocaded bundle in her arms. Elysia looked at Frey, but she saw that he was watching the scene unfolding before them with intensity, and she wondered if he had lost his nerve at the last moment. The newcomer advanced into the stone circle.
The one who seemed to be the leader of the sect shouted a few words in a language that Elysia did not know at the same time that she raised the bundle high. It was a child, although she Elysia could not determine if he was alive or dead.
With another cry with unintelligible words, those present, seized by ecstasy, responded.
The cloaked man glanced at the faces around her, and Elysia had the feeling that he was looking directly at her with her serene brown eyes. She wondered if the Sect master already knew they were there and was playing with them.
The crisp-voiced man began what sounded like a grand speech. The energy of each of his words was almost tangible in the air.
Once the master finished, the cultites released a great shriek of ecstasy. It was evident that an evil ritual had just begun. The sect master advanced towards the altar with slow ceremonious steps. Elysia felt her mouth go dry, and she licked her lips. Frey watched the events as if he was hypnotized.
"They're talking devilishly." Frey whispered as his attention seemed to focus on the figure of the leader. "It seems that the child was sacrificed to grant Lilith a new physical body for one night."
Elysia was shocked and horrified at the same time. She did not expect that Frey would be able to understand such a dark and blasphemous language. How and why was Frey able to do it?
The child was placed on the altar to the accompaniment of thunderous drumming. The six dancers were standing, each one next to a column, which she surrounded with her legs apart and hugged her suggestively. As the ritual progressed, they rubbed against the columns with slow sinuous movements.
The master drew a curved-blade knife from his robes. The catgirl wondered if Frey was going to do something, since she could hardly bear the sight of that scene.
Slowly the officiant raised the knife high above her head. Elysia forced herself to look. An ominous presence now hovered over the scene; it seemed that the mist and the smoke of the incense had condensed until it solidified, and within that cloud she thought she could make out the silhouette of a sensual woman, who was writhing and beginning to take solid form. The catgirl couldn't bear the tension any longer.
"Nope!" Elise yelled.
She and Frey left the tall grass and marched shoulder to shoulder towards the circle of stones. At first the officiant seemed unaware of her presence, but eventually the drumming ceased, the chanting died down, and the master turned to give them a startled look.
For a moment, they all stared at them. No one seemed to understand what was happening, but then the teacher pointed the knife at them.
"Kill the intruders!" yelled the officiant.
The celebrants advanced like a wave. Elysia felt something tug on her leg, and then a sharp pain hit her. Looking down, she saw a creature, half woman and half snake, biting her ankle. She kicked into the air so that her being released her leg and plunged the sword into it; it hit a bone, shuddered and jerked Elysia's arm.
Elysia took off running, to join Frey who was slashing his way towards the altar. The mighty double-edged greatsword rose and fell rhythmically, leaving behind a trail of bloody remains. The celebrants, drugged and slow to react, showed no fear. Men and women, corrupt and uncorrupted, charged at intruders without even a thought for their own lives.
Elysia slashed and slashed at anyone who came close. She plunged the sword under her ribs and pierced the heart of a dog-faced man who leapt at her. As she tried to free the blade from the attacker's body, a clawed woman and a man with mucus-covered skin leapt at her, their weight knocking her down and knocking her breath away.
She felt the woman's claws rake across her face as she, bracing a foot on her stomach, pulled her off of her. As blood from her scratches splashed into her eyes, she watched as the man, who had taken a nasty fall, jumped up to grab her by the throat. With her left hand she reached for the dagger at her belt, while with her right she clutched the neck of the enemy, who was twisting to free himself. It was difficult to hold because of the layer of mucus that covered it, but her hands closed inexorably on Elysia's neck, at the same time that the creature rubbed repulsively against her and gasped with pleasure.
The darkness threatened to overwhelm the cat girl, before whose eyes small silver dots shone. She felt the overwhelming urge to relax and fall into darkness as, from somewhere far away, she heard Frey's howling war cry as she activated her special skill called [Overdriver: Ultimate Fury].
Through sheer force of will, Elysia managed to draw her dagger and plunge it into the ribs of her attacker. The creature tensed, opening its mouth in a smile that revealed rows of eel-like teeth, and it moaned with pleasure, even as it died.
"Lilith, take me!" the man yelled. "Ah, the pain, the delicious pain!"
Elysia stood up just as the clawed woman managed to get up as well. She kicked out and caught her jaw, and there was a crunch as she fell backward. Elysia shook her head to clear the blood from her eyes.
Most of the celebrants had focused on Frey, which had undoubtedly saved Elysia's life. It seemed that Frey's hulking figure was trying to force his way into the heart of the stone circle, but his progress was hampered by the pressure of the enemy's bodies against his own. Elysia could see that the joints of her plates were bleeding, this revealed to her that Frey had activated the special ability of his armor and was fighting seriously.
Frey's fierce fury was a terrible thing to behold. He fumed from his mouth as he slashed and sent limbs and heads flying everywhere. He was covered in a foul layer of blood, but despite his utter ferocity, Elysia could tell that the fight was going against Frey. As she watched, a cloaked celebrant slammed a club into the side of Frey's helmet, and Frey fell under a wave of bodies.
"So he has met the death of him." Elysia thought. "just as he wished."
Free of the fray, the teacher had regained his composure. He began to chant once more, raising his dagger high into the air, and the figure that had begun to form in the mist seemed to become more tangible, revealing in more detail the curves of an attractive woman.
Elysia had a premonition that if she came to full solidity, they would be doomed; but she couldn't break through the bodies surrounding Frey. For a moment, she watched the curved blade of the knife reflect the moonlight. And then she drew back her own dagger.
"May the gods guide my hand!" she implored her as she threw the trusty dagger with which she had slain her owner.
The weapon flew directly and accurately towards the teacher's throat; it stuck under the mask, where the flesh was exposed. With a gurgling cry, the master fell backwards.
A long wail of frustration filled the air, and the mist seemed to evaporate; with it, the silhouette it contained vanished. As one, the celebrants looked up in shock, turning to face Elysia, who found herself met with dozens of hostile eyes. She stood motionless and very, very scared, in dead silence.
An imposing roar was heard as Frey emerged from the pile of bodies, striking left and right with his massive fists. He lowered a hand and, from somewhere, retrieved the greatsword; he moved his hands to the middle of the hilt and used it to strike at those around him. Elysia picked up her longsword from the ground and ran to join her companion, the two of them fighting their way through the crowd until they were back to back.
The celebrants, overcome with fear at the loss of their leader, fled into the night and mist, and soon Frey and the catgirl found themselves alone in the shadows of the Stone Circle.
The dark hero gave Elysia a baleful look; her plate armor was covered in coagulated blood. In that ghostly light, she had a demonic appearance.
"She has robbed me of a great death, cat girl."
He raised his sword menacingly, and Elysia wondered if he was still possessed by the frenzy of battle and preparing to strike her down. Frey started to walk towards her, and then gave her a big smile from behind her helmet.
"It seems that the gods have an even greater death in store for me."
He stuck the point of the sword into the ground, and began to laugh. Once the laughter was over, he turned to the altar and picked up the child.
"She is a girl". He said "And she is still alive."
Elysia surveyed the bodies of the cloaked celebrants who had previously stood by the great stones of the circle. The first was a blonde girl covered in bruises; the second, a young man who had a triangle-shaped amulet hanging almost mockingly from his neck.
"I think it would be better not to return to the inn," Elysia commented, noticing that the young man was the innkeeper's son and the blonde girl was his fiancée.
♦ ♦ ♦
A local legend tells that a little girl was found on the steps of the triumvirate temple in the main city of Barony Corelyn. She was wrapped in a bloody cloak of wool. Beside her was a bag full of gold and, around her neck, a triangle-shaped steel amulet. Priestess swore she saw a black carriage speeding away from her in the dawn light.
The inhabitants also told another, much darker story regarding the murders of Maria, the innkeeper's daughter, and Gunter, the innkeeper's son; Apparently, they were victims of a horrible sacrifice in homage to the Dark Powers. The guards who found the bodies by the Stone Circle agree that it must have been a ghastly rite. The bodies had been sliced open by a sword wielded by a demon.
The inhabitants of that region of the Corelyn barony told the story of two mysterious figures that moved away on the horizon in the direction of the mountains; a large man outfitted in plate armor and his lover, a young cat-like girl. Nobody knew their names, but those who believed in them knew that they were responsible for eradicating the cultists from the stone circle, since from that moment the supernatural events that took place in that region almost completely ceased.
The man was speculated to be a demigod or a powerful champion sent by the gods. While the girl speculated that she was a forest nymph accompanying such an exalted hero.
Since then, the legend of a powerful hero in black armor began to spread. The legend of the dark hero and his fairy companion.
I can't remember exactly how we decided to head into the gloomy mountains in search of the lost gold of an old, abandoned dwarf fortress, but I remember that, like many important resolutions from that period of my life, it was one we made in a tavern under the influence of huge amounts of alcohol. I also remember an old, toothless dwarf repeatedly babbling the word gold, and I have vivid memory of the insane gleam that appeared in my companion's eyes as he listened to the tale.Perhaps it was typical of the Dark Hero to be willing to risk his life and limb in the wildest, most barren territory he could imagine, no matter how tenuous the provocation. Or maybe it was the characteristic 'gold rush' effect that the vast majority of people tend to suffer when they find a way to get money quickly. As I was to discover later, the lure of that shiny metal has a tremendous and terrifying power over the minds of all relatively civilized beings.In any case, the decision to leave
"Perhaps I should escort you back to your house." Frey commented.This time, he surveyed the girl with a more attentive gaze. She was frail and thin, and her face would have been ordinary if not for her large dark eyes. She wrapped herself in the velvet cloak that Frey himself had lent her, clutched the bundle of what she had bought in the village to her chest, and then raised her face to give the dark hero a shy smile that lent beauty to that countenance. pale and famished."I'd appreciate it, if it's not too much trouble.""It's not a bother at all." he replied. "Maybe those ruffians are still lurking out there."“I doubt that. They seemed to be very afraid of you.”"Let me help you carry those herbs, then."“The lady she told me exactly what she had to buy. They are to alleviate the effects of frostbite. I will feel calmer if I carry them.”Frey shrugged, and they went outside; the cold was so intense that his breaths formed clouds of vapor.In the night sky, the Shadowy Mountains
Elysia knocked on the wagon door, which she was told belonged to the baron's master-at-arms. She was alone mainly because her partner, Frey, was in charge of maintaining his armor and giving his sword a perfect edge."Ahead". said a voice.Opening the door, her nose was assaulted by the smell of bear grease, so she reached for the hilt of the sword.Five men were gathered inside the wagon, and she recognized three of them: they were the hunters she had met the night before. The other two were a young man, richly dressed and with delicate features, with short hair in the style of a noble warrior, and a tall, powerfully built man clad in furs. The latter was tanned and appeared to be in his thirties, although his hair was silvery gray. He carried a quiver of black-tailed arrows slung across his back, and close to his hand was a long, sturdy bow. The men she didn't know, Elysia, bore a certain family resemblance."That's the bitch." Lars said through his missing teeth, and the two strang
By mid-morning, the exiles were ready to move. At the head of the long, disorderly line, Elysia saw a white-haired old man, clad in a sable cloak, riding a black war steed. He rode under the unfurled wolf banner, which Dieter carried. Beside him, Manfred leaned down to say something to the old man; The baron then gestured, and the caravan that made up his people began to move forward.The catgirl felt a shudder run through him at the sight of it all. She drank in the sight of the row of wagons and wagons with their armed escort of mounted and armored warriors, then climbed into a supply cart that she and Frey had seized from a sour old servant, who was dressed in the barony livery.Around them, mountains pointed to the sky like gray giants, trees dotted the roadsides, and streams ran like quicksilver down the sides toward the source of a River. The rain mixed with snow softened the contours of the landscape and gave it an untamed beauty."Time to go again." Frey moaned as he took his
The crossbow bolt whistled through the air and stabbed quiveringly into the earth before the steed's hooves. Frey struggled to control the animal, which reared. At times like this he was glad to have ranks of skill in Riding."Come no closer, stranger, or we will fill you with arrows, white flag or no white flag." His voice was rough but powerful. It was clear that its owner used it to give orders and have them obeyed. Frey struggled with the mount and managed to control it."I am a messenger to Garfield Von Deyl, Baron of the Northern Fringe of the Gray Mountains." Frei yelled. “He has no intention of causing you any harm. We just want to shelter from the elements and refresh supplies.”“Well, you can't do it here! Tell your Baron Garfield that if he is so peaceful, he can continue on his way. This is Aken, and we are not interested in any dealings with the nobles of any country. We are a free and independent city, we do not bow down to anyone.”Frey studied the man shouting at him f
“I think I have found the inspiration for a new work.” declared Manfred Von Deyl enthusiastically. "The delightful story the hunter told last night will be the core of the plot."Elysia looked at him doubtfully. They advanced along the western flank of the caravan, keeping between the chariots and the ominous mountains.“Perhaps the hunter's story is more than just a tale, Manfred. Many ancient legends contain real facts.”"Of course! Of course! Who better to know than me? I think I will title this work Where the legends walk. Think about it: powerful spells that make the earth rumble, and the metallic sheen of legendary weapons gleaming in the haunted light of the moon. Imagine the figure of the god of the dead who remains unbeatable in the midst of battles."Looking at those accursed elevations, it was very easy for Elysia to imagine such things. Of all the people following Baron Von Deyl, only three people dared to enter the hills. During the day, Dr. Stock and Mrs. Winter searched
Frey looked at Krisvel, although his cheeks were in shadow, he saw a tear shine. Their faces were very close to each other. Behind them, the wisps of mist rising from the river's surface had thickened rapidly, and they could barely see the water. Krisvel moved closer to the powerful figure of Frey."If he hadn't come this far, he wouldn't have met you."They kissed awkwardly, tentatively, barely touching lips. Then, Frey bent down to take her long hair in her hands. They leaned toward each other again, embracing more greedily as the second kiss deepened. Passionate, hands began to travel and explore the other's body over the thick layer of cloth that covered Krisvel's body and the robust plate armor that Frey possessed.They leaned in too far, and Krisvel gave a little exclamation as they fell from the trunk of the tree and sprawled on the soft, damp earth."My armor and cloak are muddy." Frei said.“Perhaps it would be better if you took it
As the first light of morning appeared, Elysia watched warily as Frey inspected the rubble of the ancient stone arch. The stench of stale air and rotting bones rising from within nauseated him. She turned to look down the mountain, where the surviving outcasts were setting up funeral pyres from the remains of the chariots to cremate the dead. Nobody wanted to bury them so close to the mountains.Elysia heard Frey growl with fierce satisfaction, and she turned around again. Frey was expertly running his hand over the broken stones, on the surface of which the engraved runes formed a faint web, and then he raised his eyes and gave her a wild smile.“There is no doubt, catgirl; the runestones that guarded the entrance were split from the outside.”Elysia looked at him as suspicion washed over him. She felt enormous fear.“Looks like someone has given the Von Deyl Curse a hand.” she whispered.♦ ♦ &diam