Interlude - Distant Echoes

The Adventurer

They say his gaze can kill.

They say his blood is colder than ice.

They say he basks in the sun all day, to soak up power.

And at night, he strikes.

His blades are the finest orichalcum - His heart, adamantite.

He is the bringer of thunder, the Endless Crimson Rain.

He is...Wolfgunblood.

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The Kingdom of Illurean

About five months ago, he appeared in the parlors and brothels of the underworld.

No-one knew where he was from, and he wasn't saying - The best guess is that he was from the Alliance, or perhaps Valemir. Maybe from stranger lands, still.

The point is, he was a sneaking, backstabbing, two-faced rogue with unusual wit and cunning, and those in the know quickly recognized a definite prospect.

It wasn't long before he knew everyone, and everything about everyone. He romanced their whores and bought off their servants; Given the amount of coin he had, that wasn't hard. All he wanted was to do, or so he said, was business.

At any rate, in less than a month, everyone who needed to die ended up in the grave. That turned out to be remarkably few, surprisingly; he was more of a surgeon than a butcher, and only cut away the most stubborn tissue.

There's no honor among thieves. No old friends to be avenged. Everyone - all the way up to the Eight Families - took note, shrugged, and carried on doing business. Profits soared, like never before.

So, for the next three months, things went well. Everyone thrived, everyone was happy. Business was booming.

And then he vanished.

But someone - or something - came back. Someone who knew exactly what he did, about everyone and everything.

Hiding places. Secret tunnels. Escape routes and sanctuaries. Old debts that might just mean salvation.

All of it useless when the moment came, because whoever-it-was already lay in wait.

Over a hundred people died, and all of them in one night. Most of them were scum, really, but enough were important enough to make a point. Enough to send a message.

Some witnesses went mad. Some didn't. But none reported more than one man. A single man, who appeared from places he could not have been. Who could not be seen, not directly-

Who struck, and - in an instant - was swallowed by the darkness.

What's that? You think it's a story to frighten children? You'll learn.

Thing is, it seems like you've been skimming a little off the top, Karrik - Did you really think the bosses wouldn't find out? That they were stupid?

I know you're tight with the Rebis. Well, his word ain't worth what it used to be. The boss doesn't like his kind. That stuff with the whores, too...That's just not good business. You know how the boss gets about damaging merchandise.

The Eight Families want a word, Karrik. Said something about 'making an example', you know?

Oh, that's right - It's the Nine, now. The Nine Families.

After you meet the Vanisher, well...We'll see who ends up a tale to frighten children.

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The Velmorian Empire

Boys and girls, lords and ladies.

Saints and sinners, tramps and troublemakers, predators and prey…

It's dyin' time. Again.

Tonight! They're red-hot and black-hearted. 

Prisoners and fiends, victims and in-betweens...The eye of your Emperor is upon you. His Imperial Majesty commands that you die tonight...Or live trying.

Those who are about to die - We salute you.

Now, the moment you've all been waiting for...

She is the maiden of midnight, the mistress of razors.

The death men fear...And the death they crave.

Raise your hands for the Songstress of the Empire, the strongest and most beautiful…

The Bride of Death…

-the Untouchable Queen-

Alura Une-

The Lady of the Black Rose!

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The Dhalan Theocracy

"How is the penitent?"

"No change. Lady Severa holds him in thrall - She assures us he will remain in thrall."

"Yes. But for how long?"

"As long as she lives, at least. She is remarkably sanguine, all things considered."

"Hmmm. Once again, the Executioners prove their worth. I had thought their kind to be a spent thing...But in this wicked age, it seems that they still have a purpose."

"So it is written. Could it ever be otherwise?"

"Your Excellency, I-"

"Cardinal August - Trust this old man's judgement. You must have faith, Cardinal. Always remember: All is as the Gods will. Could it ever be otherwise?"

"..."

"Still you doubt. Speak. Unburden yourself."

"The Great Oracle predicts a time of calamity. A wolf-age, a time of ruin, where all will be put to the sword. She says that Heaven and Earth will be upturned: The skies will burn. The seas will boil. The living will envy the dead."

"Her gift is surveillance, not prophecy. You know as well as I do - Her brother’s death has distressed her."

"Your Excellency. It is not the wisdom of your decisions I doubt, but the haste...Surely, there must be a better solution. To make the Penitent one of our own…The will of the Gods-"

"You blaspheme. Another word, and I will have you scourged."

"...My most sincere apologies, your Excellency. I will do penance."

"See that you do. Cardinal - One last matter. Does the Wrackmaiden know?"

"Could anything be kept from her?"

"Keep them apart from each other. For as long as possible."

"And...When that proves impossible?"

"Then we must pray that the gods will have mercy upon us. For it is their children who will inherit the earth."

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The Elven King

My friends, my dearest friends. Has it truly been that long?

You have fallen to dust. Withered away - While I have remained the same.

I alone am eternal.

I did things, of course. So many things you'll never know. Things I liked so much.

Ah, but I had forgotten:

The carnival comes and goes...But if you wait for a while, it'll always come back to you.

Now - Let the game begin.

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The Shrouded Prophet

"Brothers. Sisters. Chieftains and Kings."

"I am the fruit of the desert, the daughter-son of the barren hills. Thrice-blessed, thrice-cursed, a child of darkness and light."

"The world changes, and all must change with it or be swept aside. The time of the Folk has come - I have seen it. Together, we have broken the Great Wall; together, we have eaten the flesh of Man."

"They call you beasts. You name yourselves Armat and Caben, Stone Eater and Spriggan, Bafolk and Ogre and all the rest."

"But I know what you are. You are the disciples of the Shrouded Prophet! You are the Faithful! You are warriors! The gods walk, and they walk with us!"

"For centuries, the humans have sought to starve you. To cheat you of your birthright. The gods have spoken, and they say - The Age of Man is over."

"Take up your swords. Sharpen your fangs. Gird yourselves for war."

"No chains can bind us, no gates can keep us out! Judgement comes!"

"Sitizt'ka! In the name of the Hundred Gods - Bring them death!"

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The Dragon

And so it begins.

It begins again, with greed, with treachery, with violence, with murder. With the intoxication of power.

The sense that everything is possible, that what they want can be done, that what they hate will be abolished, that the world can be fashioned according to their will.

But then they will want more.

Always more. Grasping, envious.

They will kill us. They will bring ruin to all they see.

They will raze the world.

Unless they die first.

Next: The Holy King