27. Eryndor's Plight

Elara, still disguised as a beautiful dark elf, walked a few hundred meters away from the motel before instantly teleporting back into her room, which was adjacent to Eryndor's. As soon as she materialized, she transformed back into her true form, Vylonia the Demoness.

"Welcome back, mistress," said Noir, her familiar crow, in a low, raspy voice.

Vylonia smiled, her eyes gleaming with interest. "I still can't believe our little toy has come from the living world. That rascal Xandros had such an interesting spell with him. No wonder he had the audacity to steal my treasure."

"A hundred years of unwavering loyalty and devoted service, guarding my treasures with unblinking vigilance," Vylonia's voice dripped with a mix of venom and anger. "And yet, despite my absolute trust, Xandros proved to be a serpent, striking when I least expected it. I was so certain of his devotion, so convinced that he would never dare to betray me... but still, he stole from me. My own carelessness was my downfall. In the end, it is a timeless truth: as long as someone is alive or well... moving they are capable of surprising you."

Noir hated betrayal the most, but he also knew his mistress wanted to escape this hellhole the most. Who wouldn't, after all? This place was a real treat, with its endless darkness, the smell of brimstone that made your eyes water, and the constant screams of the damned that made you want to pull your hair out. It was like a never-ending nightmare, but without the benefit of being able to wake up. And don't even get him started on the decor - all those twisted, gnarled trees and the lakes of burning fire. It was like the interior designer had a personal vendetta against the concept of joy.

Thinking about Xandros, who had the means to escape and didn't even bother to tell his mistress, let alone take her with him, made Noir's feathers ruffle with anger. What a selfish, cowardly thing to do. "Perhaps we should capture and get more information from the man," Noir said, his voice low and menacing.

But Vylonia just shook her head, a small, enigmatic smile playing on her lips. "No, Noir. The child will one day be the key to our escape from this hellhole. Let's just keep an eye on him for now."

Eryndor trudged into his room, his feet heavy with the weight of his own frustration. Despite the fact that he had finally obtained the first key to returning to his world, he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had been plaguing him since the battle with the Advanced Lich. The memory of Krog's bleeding body, lying limp on the ground, still lingered in his mind, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and responsibility.

It was ironic, really. Just a few days ago, Krog had been his enemy, a goblin who had been trying to kill him. But now, after having gone through the trials and tribulations of this strange world together, they had formed a bond that Eryndor couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was because they were both outcasts, living on the fringes of society, kindred spirits who had found a sense of camaraderie in each other's company.

As he sat on his bed, staring blankly at the wall, Eryndor felt a sense of weakness wash over him. He had always thought of himself as a capable person, someone who could handle whatever life threw his way. But now, he wasn't so sure. The fact that he had almost lost Krog, that he had been unable to protect his friend, made him feel lacking, inadequate.

For the first time in his life, Eryndor felt the urge to become strong, to overcome his limitations and become a better person. But as he thought about it, he realized that he had no idea how to go about it. He had always been a bit of a slacker, content to coast through life with his 'laisser-faire' attitude. He had never really worked hard or pushed himself to achieve anything.

And to make matters worse, his aptitude wasn't exactly stellar. He had always struggled in school, and his lack of motivation had held him back from achieving his full potential. The only thing that seemed to be consistent about him was his bad luck, which had a tendency to follow him around like a bad omen. But even that wasn't reliable, and Eryndor couldn't help but wonder if he was doomed to fail no matter what he did.

As he sat there, thinking and brooding, Eryndor's head began to ache. He felt like he was going around in circles, unable to come up with a solution to his problems. Finally, exhausted and frustrated, he decided to sleep, hoping that things would look better in the morning.

In the rogue town of Windhaven, a hooded figure emerged from the shadows, it's face obscured by the darkness of it's hood. The figure approached a rowdy group of bandits, who were lounging in the town's seedy tavern, and handed the leader, a Lionid named Kieran, a small, intricately carved orb. The orb pulsed with a blinking red dot, as if beckoning the group towards their next target.

Kieran, the Lionid, was the leader of the group. The other members included Akira, a Lupine; Thorold, a Ursid; Lila, a Felis; Thane, a Canine; and Zephyr, a Serpentine.

The hooded figure spoke, "100,000 gold coins to bring the head of the man." It tossed a leather bag onto the table, the clinking of gold coins within echoing through the tavern. "Half now, half later," it said, it's voice low and mysterious.

Kieran's eyes lit up with greed as he caught the purse, and he let out a mighty roar, ordering his group to move out. "Let's go!" he bellowed, and the group of bandits suddenly sprang to life.

As the group filed out of the tavern, the hooded figure watched them go, it's eyes glowing with an otherworldly energy within the darkness of it's hood. "So, what if I can't kill you personally?" Xaren spoke, he's voice low and menacing. "I have many ways to achieve the same result."