INTO THE TUNNEL WE GO
Hours bleed into one another, their boots drumming a weary rhythm on the tunnel floor.
The expected horde, the insect-like monstrosities of this excavated passage, remain sparse.
A handful of kills barely registers against the anticipation of a true onslaught. After all, this was a path carved by them.
They see a few claw marks here and there, some bones, some human and others of unknown origin but bones regardless, a symbol of death.
They hadn't gone far before thick darkness buries them, taking away their sight but Emilia's gem provides light.
A flicker of sorrow touches her as she calls upon the stone's magic, even here, in the dim underbelly of Rolandia, it reminds her of home.
The stone, one of many that bathed her tribe's haven with glorious illumination.
Kane walks in front of her while the stone glows above, he has been quiet for a while and he seems invested in the situation regarding these monsters.
Where did they come from? But more importantly, what drives him to give chase?
He knows his former self would never follow up such things, if anything he would avoid anything that screamed danger and choose the carefree way, free of monsters and all things dangerous.
But that was a life he left behind, a life he does not remember but tortures him with past feelings that plunge his heart like a dagger.
Throughout their walk his hand has been clutched around the hilt of his sword.
Edges, ugly like a beggar's teeth, half blunt and sharp at the same time.
Braga and Emmet walk behind absorbing the scenery of foul smells and bits of debris probably left while the monsters dug this tunnel.
"You know, I have been wondering, why the hell are monster digging a tunnel? This act seems almost too coordinated for a bunch of monsters", Emmet observes.
"You are right. From the remains I can tell that some of them are monsters as well. I don't want to imagine it is true but that means that different monsters are working together, this is bad", the dark elf says.
"Different monsters working together, I have never heard of such a thing".
They keep walking, bones and debris break under their boots as they walk through this tunnel of darkness.
"Wait", Emmet murmurs, his ears twitching, a silent signal. He steps forward, halting the group's advance.
Kane ignores him, pushing past him but Emilia holds his hand, pulling him back.
"What?", he asks, his tone far from gentle.
"You should listen to the elves White Death, their eyes see further than we mortal men", Braga says.
"Never heard truer words", a voice comes from the dark.
A grey furry creature comes walking out of the dark, a good distance between them as only dim lights of the stone touch its fur.
Yellow sparks ignite within its gleaming eyes, and the sharp, predatory lines of its nose and claws betray its feral nature.
"A werewolf", Emmet says, taking stance at the sight of the creature.
It scratches its claws against the walls, igniting sparks like a blacksmith, "It is unfortunate for you to have met me. I am Fangor and this is your grave".
HIGH TOWN
In the cold dungeons of the castle, the stars send soothing lights to those who have a window in their cell and fortunately, Freya is one them.
She sits with knees to chest, letting the lights smile upon her through a small rectangular window. Metal bars built to act as coverage.
A few days ago she heard bells ring throughout the kingdom, bells that tell tales of a dead King.
In her accepted isolation and confines she heard the cries of the people for their late King and yet something in her heart speaks the story untrue.
She wants to break out of this dungeon and she can but she dares not disrespect the name of his majesty.
In her deep thoughts, she dwindles, surfing above happier days like one drawn to the sea.
These thoughts come to an end when a familiar scent of princely jasmine invades her cell upon the opening of its gate.
She runs and embraces Alaric who holds her dearly.
She takes a few steps back, "I am sorry. I couldn't help myself", "Don't be. I am sorry I haven't been able to come and see you. I have something to tell you" "I know, I heard the bells. I am sorry for your loss", she says.
"Thank you.
There is something else", he says and she tips her head upwards with interest, "My mother has been revived. I don't know how but she came to, the same day the king was killed", he says.
The spectrum of starlight does not meet his face, leaving it buried in dim lights and shadows of the night.
"Wait, the king was killed? Who would do such a thing?".
"Assassins. Speculation may begin to brew that they were sent by Rolandia as payback but for now most of the council suspect Lady Sylvia's involvement because of the presence of a werewolf", he says.
He begins to pace around the cell, "Alaric, you have to understand that I went to Rolandia because I was called.
I felt a surge of power hanging in their skies, a gift I wanted to give to you and the King so he would allow us get married", she says.
Wetness, hanging behind her grey eyes.
"It is easy to say you went and attacked Rolandia for your own selfish reasons, even though they were born out of love", he places a hand on her cheek.
"I know you would never do anything to hurt my father, but I must ask, what was this gift?".
"A broken piece of a crescent moon, floating with shards of mystical glass.
I could sense its power and I tell you, it is incredible. Even a dragon came for it", she says, excitement revealing itself upon her face.
"I heard some rumours about a dragon but there has been no sighting, how am I to believe your story?" "Alaric, you know me".
He takes a step away, "And where are these… shards of mystical glass?", "The king, he ordered the guards to take it from me".
Freya watches as Alaric scratches his chin and continues his pacing, he seems to be thinking of something other than her case but she knows him and suspects he is connecting dots out of her grasp.
"I will have you bath and fed properly. You may be prisoner now but you are still important to the Kingdom", he says and turns to leave, "And you?", her voice halts his march, "What?".
"I'm I still important you?", her voice low and her head bowed as she speaks.
Her eyes averting his as she waits for his words to crush her heart.
"I'm not in a good place right now Freya. I just lost my father and my mother just returned, I am… sorry", he says and leaves.
ROLANDIA
"Fuck!", Kane screams as claws tear his shoulder while he swings blade, missing his target and exposing his midsection to a kick from Fangor.
Emmet sneaks behind the werewolf to attack but its senses are much more tuned than the half-born.
It jumps over his swing and comes down with claws to tear him apart but Braga slams his shoulder into the sides of the werewolf.
It grunts as it rolls to the ground, quickly getting to its feet to resume its charge.
Emilia screams and slaps her hands together, sending a wave of light toward the werewolf, blinding him.
Braga roars in his charge, delivering a series of blows to the werewolf, Emmet slides behind and lays on his limbs.
Kane runs and delivers a dropkick to the werewolf's chest, pushing him against Emmet so he falls to the ground.
Emmet turns around, sharp in his movement as he raises his blade to swing downward but Fangor instinctively moves, letting the blade cut just his shoulder instead of his chest as was intended.
Fangor tries to stand but Braga stamps him on the chest, "Seems like this will be your grave instead", he says and his comrades bury their blades into Fangor's chest.
The werewolf spits blood, "You underestimate me", and with those words, a flash of lightning escapes his body and blasts them away.
They fly, bashing their bodies against rocky walks of granite and stone.
Fangor pulls out the swords and spits to the floor, bloodied teeth shine under the stone's illuminating gaze, "I am not a mere werewolf. I am not weak like most of the pack", it says.
Walking around as blood slowly trickles down his hairy chest.
"I don't know who you are but you have bad luck", he says as he watches them struggle to their feet.
"Come. Make this interesting for me".
"We have to stop following you Kane", Emmet spits blood, being the first to recover, he glances at Braga and gives him a nod.
"What? You were a gladiator too" "Not the champion". "Hahahaha", Fangor laughs, "Weaklings".
Braga charges and Fangor matches his march, they lock hands together, competing in feats of strength.
Fangor's claws dig behind Braga's palms, "Argh", he groans.
Braga nods the werewolf, he plants his feet and grips harder even with the claws dipping into his flesh.
He lifts the werewolf and slams him against the walls until it frees him.
Braga charges again, voice raised like a lion's roar, he attacks but Fangor moves faster, dodging him and slashing the back of his legs with blood stained claws.
Kane jumps into the mix, delivering a flying kick to Fangor's chest while Emmet runs for the swords.
He grabs them both, face raised and eyes sharp, he clutches their hilt and moves in for a kill on the disoriented werewolf.
He swings but Fangor dodges again, his pace elusive but sloppy as Emmet wins a cut across his chest, blood spills into the air.
Fangor ignores the pain and delivers a kick Emmet's belly before landing an uppercut under his chin, the half-born flies into the air only to slam his body against the ceiling of the tunnel.
Fangor spins and delivers a kick to Emmet's face as he falls from the tunnel's ceiling, sending him across the floor.
"Is that the best you can do?".