https://www.maxpixel.net/Forest-Mammal-Light-Nature-Outdoors-Deer-Fantasy-3232570

New Quest Objective

- Gain access to the Citadel

You’ll be playing Grey Steel, a minotaur with a burning desire for vengeance against the creatures that destroyed his life.

***

Situated in the green vale, the Citadel of Fire was built into the very bedrock of a great mountainside with a single narrow dirt road leading upwards on a winding rocky path that dropped down to the lowlands below. The long treacherous road guarded by dozens of homes that lay scattered along the trail. While all around them in the open countryside below herds of wingdarts flew past, their manes flying in the cool breeze as their black fur shone in the morning light. The borels that frolicked by the lakes, lazing about in the sunlight as they used their long forked tongues to causally clean each other. The large green lizard like creatures, lying on their backs as they wiggled about on the ground. The birds that twittered upon the branches to either side of them, bursting upwards at their approach.

Leaving the beach and watch tower behind the small party headed inland through the thinly wooded area. The hobs that wobbled about in the shade of the trees taking flight the instant they saw Calain. The fairly heavily armed group able to dissuade most visitors from attacking, although Grey did spot a few goblins in the bushes who did follow them for awhile.

Surrounded by the rich scent of mildew in the air, they followed the muddy path as it stretched it’s way upwards towards the mountain. Lorel holding hands with a confused Glydel, whose condition had worsened to the point, the young albino sometimes forgot who he was? And what he was doing? Fortunately those bouts of forgetfulness did not last long, but Grey worried what might happen once he lost all memory of them.

Sky always able to sense his thoughts drew a dagger from beneath his torn brown cloak and asked, “You really think the Honor Blades will be able to cure him?” The slim miniature cleaning his fingernails as he spoke.

Grey glanced over his shoulder to Lorel who smiled up at him cheerfully and Glydel who had lost most of the flesh from his bones, and wasn’t sure how to respond. He hoped for Lorel’s sake at least that the boy could be returned to the way he was, but in his mind Grey feared that it might already be too late for him and wondered if he were better off telling her so.

Shoulders straightened at the burden he carried, Grey replied, “We’ll see, soon enough.”

His attention returning to watch the muddy road, cluttered by outcropping of rocks and trees low enough to brush the back of his shoulders. The deer that bounded past, peaking at them with interest before pouncing away.

Calain who’d been brooding for some time now, scowling darkly at the sight of the colourful sprites that nipped the air around him. The lanky vampire, vainly trying to batter them aside with look of sheer annoyance. “How much longer before we reach this damnable Citadel of yours. I believe I’ve had enough of this land.”

Smirking a little at his discomfort, Grey thought of slowing down further if only to attract the attention of the sky weavers, sprites of a different variety who were able to wield magic, but with Glydel not looking so well, Grey eventually decided against it. Though he did see a few of them, high up in the treetops, fluttering about with faintly human forms, garbed in leaves that were more a part of them as they circled the trees.

Footsteps treading through the rutted ground where carriages and wagons must have trundeled through in the past, Grey began to see the first vestiges of the village that dotted the slopes and dale. The thatch roofed houses made of mud brick, baked in the four suns to give them a light brown texture. The festival poles that had been strung up in the middle of the square, bare of the wildflowers that were meant to be collected each dawn and dusk for the ceremony. The wagons that would usually reside on the sides of the road, ready to ferry goods in and out of the village, gone as well. While the stone well that should have had dozens of women gathered about it vacant of all life.

Hand lingering close to Tamrel, Grey looked back at Calain who’d noticed the silence as well, then nodded his head imperceptibly to Sky. “Hold up here for a sec, Lorel. I want to take a look around.”

Then reluctantly motioned for Calain to follow him, leaving behind Sky, Glydel and Lorel behind to wait in the glade.

Not sure what to make of this, he kept his hand on his greatsword and walked towards the first home. The door hanging wide open to reveal a room that looked like it had been ransacked, but judging by the dust, that had been a good long while.

Calain, who’d moved to check the houses on the opposite side, surfaced and shook his head, before moving onto the next. Grey quickly doing the same and like the first, found it to be empty of all it’s possessions.

If not for the lack of blood, Grey would have thought that the village had been raided, but with no signs of a struggle, it could simply mean that they had up and left. But why they would need to leave when they were so close to Citadel again brought up a question Grey had been pondering for some time. Where were the Honor Blades? By now he'd have thought to at least crossed a few patrols, but so far not a single one had been seen.

Waiting beside the village’s well, Grey waved an arm up for Calain to join him, before asking, “You smell any blood?”

“No, but there is something else that lingers in the air.”

Not really liking what that portented, they headed back to where his friends waited, and ignored the questioning looks in their eyes. “Come, we’re not that far now. How’s Glydel doing?”

Lorel who looked almost like a child again as she bit her lip worriedly, smiled gingerly. “I think he’ll be fine for now, but he must rest soon.”

Unable to help but feel another bubble of pride at her bravery, he smiled back at her and gestured them to follow, Sky quick to take his place beside him. The pair of them moving off ahead when Sky muttered, “What was that back there?” The young minotaur clearly bothered at being left behind.

His mind elsewhere, Grey barely heard the question as he scanned the houses again, seeing the crumpled up wildflowers that had been buried in the ground, the empty paddocks where the borels should have been kept in at night, and the missing bowls of water that were meant to be placed outside the doorstep. All of it speaking of something much sinister.

Head lifted upwards as the incline began to rise, Grey’s eyes drifted to the temple up on the hill and saw that it’s wooden doors had been shattered open. The great bowl that was meant to stand upon a pedestal outside, overturned into the dust.

(Click here to investigate the temple.)

Spoiler: Spoiler

Mouth dry with trepidation, he again waved at his friends to wait for him and continued on alone this time. His greatsword drawn and eyes watching the corners of his vision as he neared the building made of mud brick that had been painted white to reflect the Lightbearer’s glory. The low arching doorway, large enough that Grey could walk straight through. The paved marble stone housing a library with dozens of bookshelves stuffed full of ancient scrolls that were meant to record the history of the village and its inhabitants. The stone podium ahead which was meant to hold a greatsword embedded in the marble, gone and replaced by smears of dried blood.

Filled with dread, he searched each of the alcoves for some hint as to what had occurred and found a scroll with a message scrawled upon it. ‘Something stalks the village. We must leave.’ The open book that lay beside it, a treatise on the effects of ghoul blood when consumed.

With nothing else to be found here, Grey returned back to his companions and shook his head. “It’s empty as well.” (+ 5 Honor.)

Head sagging a little as they continued passing home after abandoned home. The trail continued to rise up higher as they began the arduous climb up the dragon’s spine. The Citadel with its bright orange flames, drawing him along the rough rocky terrain that wound it’s way upwards, taking them in half circles that dipped and curled it's way back around. Each time Grey thought he was getting closer, the further it seemed, until at last Lorel let out a startled gasp of delight as the round gatehouse appeared over the horizon. The Temple soaring up from behind it's smooth unblemished walls to cradle the Eternal Flame in a huge intricate column that wove it’s way up into the clouds. While the gateway itself was protected by streams of magical light that showered down in a never ending waterfall.

Mesmerised by the glorious sight, he paused for a moment to take it all in, before smiling at Sky and Lorel who grinned back at him, then hurried up the dirt track. Loose pebbles tumbling down the slope as they neared the huge bluff walls of the Citadel. Tamrel, all but trembling on his back.

Hand almost reaching out to touch the golden pool of light, Grey considered telling his companions to wait for him in case it was not safe, when something drew him from the other side, pulling him through the shimmery surface, his mind blinded by an incredible white light.

(For each - Honor that you’ve received remove - 1 Health Point.)

...Blood dripping from his father’s sword, Bright Steel stood there alone, surrounded by the bodies of those that he had once called his neighbours and friends. The people that had come to him with their fears, laid out on the bloodied soil before him. The corpses of ghouls interspersed with those of the innocent that had been convinced to join them. The sweltering stench of death so strong, Grey remembered keeling over to vomit into the ground.

His father looking back at him in his blood splattered silver armor with eyes so full of sorrow, Grey thought he would fall apart and vanish into the mist. The soil that had been darkened by blood grown darker still with steel grey clouds blotting out the sky as a storm unlike any other forced them into their home. The wind beating at the thatched roof, while his father slumped to the floorboards, his mother wrapping her arms tightly around Grey as the chill breeze cut through the tiny house. His mind at a complete loss at what to say or what to do. The world he’d known destroyed in an instant to be replaced by a nightmare that would not end.

The friends he had made at the festival of twilight all gone or dead, the women and men he’d known his whole life, who’d taken care of him when he was sick, taught him all that he knew, and showered him with wisdom. All dead or gone. Till all that remained was his father in that bloody silver plate armor of his, standing there like a statue, his greatsword slick with the blood of so many people, Grey wanted to weep but couldn’t.

Bright Steel who stood watch by the doorway, looked down at him. “Darkness comes…”

Awoken with a shiver at the horrible memory, Grey’s eyes flickered open as he looked back to see his friends stumble free of the portal, then gaped at the almost vacant courtyard where dummies had been set up. Sky and the others all but quivering beneath the sunlight, making him wonder if they too had been forced to look at something that they had pushed back to the furthest corner of their mind.

The only person in sight, a young man in a white chiton with startling blue eyes that had been training with a wooden sword, before letting out a squawk of dismay. “Master Falkneer! Master Falkneer!”

“What is it boy?! Didn’t I tell you I’d be having my noon meal?!” grumbled, a huge pot bellied warrior that emerged out from a building carved from a single block of white stone. The patches of fur missing from his arms and neck, more than made up for by the long white goatee he kept tied up together at his chin. “You’d best not be intteruptin me again cause you forgot where you put that blasted sword of yours.”

Wordlessly the boy pointed his practice blade towards Grey who stared back at the ancient minotaur, the old warrior wearing an antique bronze cuirass that looked more suited to the history books rather than the venerable Honor Blades. His dark rheumy eyes peering down at Grey, before his face twisted into a grimace that revealed more than a few missing yellow teeth as he shot them a sour expression.

The Honor Blade sniffing the air in disgust. “Didn’t think anyone would be dimwitted enough to bring a vampire and a ghoul here of all places, but then most of you farmers don’t have much between the brains do you. Why are you here? And why shouldn’t I kill the lot of you here and now?”

Teeth gritted at the hostile welcome, Grey replied curtly, “I’m here to speak with the First Blade of Light. I have news that he’ll want to hear.”

Falkneer’s round belly bounced up and down as he laughed. “You really are blind fool aren’t you, boy. More blind than me I reckon. But if you truly wish to die here, by all means walk over towards those gates yonder. I’m sure one of the Ardents or Fated would be willing to oblige you. But if I were you. I’d be more concerned about your friends.”

Brow knotted up in confusion, Grey swung his head around to check on his companions, only to realise with startled shock that the young albino had fallen flat on his face. Lorel’s tearful voice calling out to him, “wake up, Gly, please wake up.” As she tried to shake his arm. Calain who looked much paler now, almost toppling forward to faint in Grey’s arm.

Mind convulsed by fear, he asked urgently, “What’s wrong with them?”

“Like I said,'' grumbled the yellow toothed minotaur, “You shouldn’t not have brought them with you. The gateway is designed to cleanse impurities from the soul. Being what they are, they should have died the moment they set foot inside, but it seems fate has been kind to them.”

Surprised at the concern that coursed through him, Grey pleaded, “Please, you must help them.”

But Falkneer simply tugged his goatee and shook his head. “Now why would I do a thing like that. You’d do well to be rid of them, boy. Such creatures as that will only serve to bring you ill luck.”

Filled with an uncontrollable rage that had been building up for some time now, Grey again remembered the words of Halmark about there no longer being honor in world, but that was not true. As long as the flame burned inside of Grey he would show these cowards what true honor was.

Hand grasping the hilt of Tamrel, Grey lay Calain gently down on the ground and drew his greatsword.

“You will help them,” he snarled.

Falkneer’s expression twisted into a dark sardonic grin. “Try me, boy.”

Skin alive with heat, he took a step towards him when Sky grabbed hold of his arm. “What the hell are you doing, Grey?!”

Grey smiled at him. “I’m teaching him the meaning of honor.”

Greatsword lifted into heavy stance, Grey shrugged aside Sky’s arm and flew forward across the flat open ground. The old warrior, letting out another dry chuckle that rolled through him, before snatching up the wooden blade from the boy’s grasp.

The wily old minotaur waiting for Grey to get within reach before flicking his wrist in a subtle move that hammered the wooden blade into Grey’s back and side in two swift brutal blows that he had not seen coming. (- 40 Health Points.) “You’ll need to use your brain, boy, if you wish to have a chance against me.”

Too angry to care that he was being reckless, Grey launched himself forward again releasing the pent up frustrations, fear and anger over his own foolish mistakes boil over in a seething cauldron of rage. The darkness he had seen in the world, too much for one warrior alone to face.

The wooden blade thumping hard into Grey’s already bruised ribs, then knocking his greatsword aside to leave him wide open, before hammering the wind right out of him. (- 60 Health Points.)

Gasping for breathe as he reeled back, he faintly heard Lorel and Sky begging him to stop, but Grey couldn’t. The fresh pain and anguish he felt at losing his parents, at losing his village, at losing Amaryllis, at the possibility of losing them all, threw him into a dark pit of despair from which there was no escape. Lorel’s grief stricken face as she tried to wake Glydel, imprinted into the back of his mind as he attacked in a flurry of moves that did not seem to faze the old warrior who anticipated each one of them, thrust them aside and cracked the wooden skull across the side of his head with a blow that should have felled Grey to the ground. (- 80 Health Points.)

Oblivious to the pain that barely compared to agony he felt in his heart at reopened old wounds, Grey attacked again and again in a frenzy of righteous fury, trying to find his way back to the light, when something soft touched his mind. His mother’s face looking down at him with a sad smile as she brushed her fingers across his scalp. Then nothing.

(- 100 Health Points.)

To be Continued...