LEAVING ROLANDIA
Kane and his band of free friends have a quick breakfast at Sloppy Bar before asking for directions. They set their minds on their god given quest, the collection of godspark.
The morning sun, though warming, offers only a faint echo compared to Pyrrhus scorching embrace.
Emmet's appetite for pleasure seem to chain his feet when time comes for them to leave the bar.
But with the shake of their money's pouch he understands that regardless of their quest he must still leave Sloppy Bar, "Come back soon", the sassy maid waves them as they leave.
Emmet's face falls into a sulk as they leave the bar.
A low murmur escapes him, a soft lament, "I'll miss this place".
Emilia's eyes flicker upward, rolling her eyes, "And you are still here… why, exactly?", she turns , leaving his lingering sentiment behind.
"Of course you will miss it, you got some action", Kane pops beside him.
Emmet squints his eyes as Kane walks forward, "Oh my gosh, you didn't…" before he can finish his statement, Kane moves at falcon's pace and covers his mouth.
"Shush, are you trying to get me killed?".
Emmet's cheeks swell as he holds in a laugh, "Don't worry. You will still hit", the half-elf says and Kane responds by stamping his feet, "Dick", "Are you two lovebirds coming?", Braga shouts over at them.
"Come on", "You just stepped on me, goddamn it", Emmet laments.
Minutes pass, their stolen boots striking the cobblestones until a wagon, available for hire appears.
They pool their remaining coins, a merger sum, enough to secure passage to the very edge of Rolandia and the looming presence of High Town.
They huddle in the wagon's shade, finding respite from the scorching sun, while the rider, a scrawny elderly figure crowned by a wide-brimmed hat, entertains them with whistles and songs of old and strange tales.
"Why do we have to use a frigging wagon when you could just teleport us to High Town?", Emmet asks, eyes resting on Kane.
"It doesn't work like that", "Then how does it work?" "I don't know".
"Even though you brought us to Rolandia, you don't know how you did that", "No. I just knew I needed to be here and…", Kane pauses, "… I couldn't stand losing Emilia", he says.
"Young love truly is a beautiful thing", Braga says and Emmet laughs, "Isn't it?" "Shut up Emmet", Kane says and turns his eyes away.
About an hour later their wagon stops and they sneak a peak through the coverings of the wagon to see armoured men make their way around the wagon while they have a chat with the rider.
They open the coverings to find the group, "Good day. Are you from Stonefield?", one of the men ask.
"Yes", Kane speaks, his eyes are keen on their attire, "You are warriors", he says.
"Yes. We got word about attacks in Stonefield from Shadowforge", "Shadowforge?" "Yes, the underground dungeon close to Stonefield. Seems you were lucky to get out early", "Bless the gods", Kane says, trying to act as normal as possible.
"Bless the gods. Let's hope they are with us", the soldier says.
He leaves and taps the body of the wagon, "They are good", he signals to his comrades and they let the wagon pass.
"Monsters? In Stonefield?", Kane rubs his chin as his mind troubles him on the matter.
"How the fuck did they even get words while we are still on the road?", Kane wonders.
"Magic or messenger birds, don't think much of it. As long as we are far from those monsters, we are good", Emmet says.
"I agree", Emilia agrees with him, "Our goal is High Town", she says, with a staleness about her voice.
HIGH TOWN
Voices parade the hall in form of whispers and shatter as the prince makes his way toward the doors of the Council court.
He projects a stark, commanding presence; the pristine white of his attire, juxtaposed against the polished black of his boots, creates a visual language of both military discipline and regal refinement.
The crowd parts, a silent deference, as he advances.
The heavy doors swing inward at the guards' touch, granting him entry.
The council members rise to their feet until he gets to his seat, he sits and they follow.
"My lord, you call a council meeting not even a day after", Lord Jaxriel speaks.
Alaric notices the presence of the other council members who were absent from the previous meeting; Lady Asha Bramble, Lord Grimgut Ratface and Lord Vorlag Lionsbeard.
"I had plans to call for a council meeting this evening but I did not call for this meeting", Alaric speaks.
The doors suddenly open wide and in comes the Queen.
Her flowing black gown sweeps the floors while she walks, her black hair lying over her shoulders.
Her eyes move from council member to council member as they rise to acknowledge her presence.
"Long live the Queen", they greet her and she responds with a slight bow and a smile.
"Council members, it is good to see you", she says while going round the table.
She stops close to Lord Grimgut, a high goblin with long braided pony tail, grey in colours while his green skin preaches of his heritage.
"You have advanced ripely in station Ratface", she says, "Thanks to the gods your majesty", he gives a slight bow.
"Mother, you should be resting. The matters of state are in good hands", Alaric worries.
"How do you suppose I do that? I have lost my husband. Assassins invade our kingdom and then there is the conspiracy to take power", she says.
The entire court raise their brows and chatter begin to feel the glorious hall. "What conspiracy, my Queen?", Jaxriel asks, always eager to hear his own voice.
"Conspiracy to remove a king with weak claim to the throne, but that did not work since he had an heir.
Then I was cursed and could not produce more children for my husband but my son has grown to be quite a capable man and now he has become a target as well", she says.
"Mother, we need proof before bringing up such allegations", "Proof? Your father is dead and clearly there was werewolf involvement in this", her gaze suddenly turns wicked as she snaps her neck toward Lady Sylvia.
"Mother, decisions have been made on the matter. We will get to the bottom of it", "No. I will".
The air in the room suddenly becomes heavy, "Then there is the threat of Rolandia.
I heard about this so-called Freya, she made enemy of them and I say we kill her for the sake of peace", she says.
Lord Jaxriel lets a laugh escape his lips but shuts up as soon as she glares at him.
"Forgive me my Queen. But we do not know what happened for sure. She was arrested so we can investigate her case against Rolandia.
And we are aware that you have been asleep for ten years so you wouldn't know but…", Rowan speaks, "…she is the golden warrior of High Town, the most powerful mage we have in our arsenal.
Her case is delicate", he says.
"And besides, Rolandia hasn't reached out to us yet. When they do, we will put the issue to rest", Alaric says.
He wonders what his mother is up to. She just woke up and yet her presence seems to bring unrest to him.
"My Queen, this has never been your strong suit. Please, take rest. We of the council have words to break", Jaxriel says.
The prince glances at him, a sneer etched in his gaze.
Then in a blur of wind, Jaxriel hurtles backward, a rag doll against the grand hall's gilded walls.
The impact echoing in the bright space.
They all stare, eyes opened wide as the Queen stand where Jaxriel's seat was.
She turns and looks down at her son, her gaze, far from friendly.
"Find the assassins. Kill this so-called golden warrior and grant justice to Rolandia and me", she says and storms off, away and out of the council chambers.
She leaves them all to stare, perplexed and unsure of this situation.
ROLANDIA
Their wagon stop for a second time and this time Braga pokes his head out of the wagon as annoyance grips him by the balls, "What is it this time?", he steps out but pauses.
The rider drops from the wagon and runs forward, toward something on the floor, no - someone.
Crimson liquid beneath the body, "Guys, you might want to see this", Braga alerts them.
The rest of the group comes down and a wave of unease passes through them.
Emilia feels goosebumps pop open on her skin at the sight she sees.
It reminds her a glimpse of the horror her people faced when they were attacked, but this looks bizarre.
Animalistic even.
Something she has seen even before her people were attacked.
Kane and Emmet stand still, taking in the sight of the corpses.
Limbs and spleen scattered to give the ground crimson colours.
Their numbers are only short of a few bodies to make twenty.
"This is the work of monsters", Emilia says.
"Are you sure those soldiers aren't going in the wrong direction?", Braga asks with folded arms.
"They barely had any weapons", Kane observes the field of horror.
"They were civilians", he says.
His gaze go dark and he bends to look at the ground, his fists curve into a ball, "Even children", his eyes finds a child's corpse.
His knuckles turn white as they tighten, "What the hell happened here?".