Side Stories

## Mountain of Corpses

“With each step I take, I carry the weight of my actions. How could I not? When I was alive, each day was agony, slowly succumbing to the cancerous world I lived in. Death would be a mercy in that hellscape. All that agony was the result of ambitious and careless individuals that history will never remember, how could they be, there is no one left alive to write it. Their actions brought about the mass extinction of billions. Wandering day after day, wishing that my suffering would end, but I knew I had a purpose, I had a reason to continue to draw breath. And it is here in this new life that I understand what that purpose is. Humanity is dead, I am its last hope. However, there are always obstacles in my way. FooIs thinking they are playing the heroes of some fairytale. I suppose that is the nature of a counter balance, there will always be opposition to my actions. There are always those who cannot see the big picture, whose greed, ignorance & hubris cloud their vision and judgment. No matter how much I try, they never learn. But I will not be deterred. Humanity is counting on me. I do not care how high the mountain I have to climb is, I will keep going. I have killed too many to question my ambition now, all I can do is remain steadfast and continue on, humanity is counting on me to do so, I cannot waiver in my beliefs for even a second. I have climbed over the corpses of too many friends to get where I am now. My path up to this point has been a trail of blood and death. However, my destiny must be fulfilled, even if I die, even after I die. I must see this through to the end, no matter what I have to do to achieve it. If this universe must die for humanity to be reborn, then so it will be. I am the only one who can see this through, only I have the vision to do so. So let the seas flow red, let the skies fill with smoke, and let those who oppose me feel true fear. I will summit this mountain of corpses…for humanity.”

## Fear The Ice & Snow

The golden steps up towards the Imperial Palace of Marah were frozen over, with frozen and mutilated bodies sprawled across it. The grand doors that once separated the throne from the people of Marah, destroyed and left ajar. An individual, clad in a black leather long coat, with white fur lining the neck and sleeves and a silver diadem upon his head, marches towards a gilded gold door, separating him and the Emperor, slaughtering the guards that stand between himself and the door. By contrast, the Emperor lays in bed, surrounded by a dozen women of various races, looking at the door wondering why there is such a racket outside and why it suddenly got cold. Suddenly, the door is knocked open with the body of one of the guards. The women in the Emperor's coterie scream in terror, with a panicked look crossing the face of the Emperor. As ice and frost slowly creep their way into the room, all of the candles are snuffed out with the cold wind coming from the hallway. In the darkness, the only sound to be heard besides the wind was a steady sound of footsteps getting closer and closer. The only light in this room was the moon light shining in from the windows, and with that light, the individual from whom the footsteps originated could be made visible. Terarchy, right hand of the Demonic Emperor, stood before the weak, pitiful human who dared to dub himself the title of Emperor, foolishly insinuating that he was his equal. He uttered a single word, “Leave”, and with that, all of the women rushed out of the room, all the while, Terachy’s gaze did not break from the Emperor’s. “What is it you want”, the Emperor said in a shaky voice. Terachy didn’t respond immediately, simply walking closer to the man. As he approached the foot of the bed, he said “I have come for a talk with your master, fetch her for me.” The Emperor’s terror grew more visible. “Don’t you know who I am? I am the Emperor of the Eternal Empire, I answer to no one and am subject to nobody.” With that, he grabs a gem encrusted dagger from beside the bed and thrusts it toward Terachy with no technique or finesse behind it. The sound of chains could be heard rattling, then the dagger’s blade shattered into pieces, with Terarchy remaining unmoving. “I will not ask again,” he utters. “You have made your point,” a female voice echoes from Terachy’s left, towards the balcony. Terachy turns his head to see two women, illuminated by the moonlight, standing on the balcony. One, a human, was dressed in a puffy gray dress, with a huge wizard hat slouching over half of her face. The other, a tabaxi, was dressed in purple and black robes with a satchel of bones at her hip. “It appears I did not make my point clear enough, I am here for your master, not you…get lost,” he angrily says. “Well that's too bad, because we won’t let you,” the woman in the gray says, raising her hand, aiming it at Terachy. The woman beside her throws all of her bones onto the floor, assembling into a massive skeleton. Terachy turns fully to face them, muttering under his breath, “Fools”. The woman in gray fires spikes made of glass towards Terachy like a gun. Before even making contact with him, the glass shatters in midair. Terachy turns and runs the perimeter of the circular room, staying out of the reach of the skeleton for the time being, instead choosing to target the glass wizard first. In response the woman in gray plants her feet into the floor and raises up a wall of glass to block the attack. Terachy, slams his own feet into the ground and roars with fury, with a blizzard erupting from around him, obscuring the visions of everyone in the room. In response, the woman in gray puts up four more walls, boxing herself and the tabaxi woman inside. This would prove to be ineffective however, as a single punch from Terachy shatters the entire cube. Chains wrap around the woman in Gray’s neck, and a single crack could be heard in the room, as Terachy snaps her neck. As the blizzard subsides, the bones of the skeleton lay scattered across the floor, as does the body of the woman in gray. The tabaxi woman falls to her knees in fear, looking up at the glowing blue eyes of Terachy. “That’s enough,” another female voice says from behind Terachy. A woman, scantily clad with demon horn, black wings, and small red dress kneels over the body of the woman in gray, kissing her on the lips. The woman in gray opens her eyes, having been revived. “Mistress, I’m sorry, we failed you,” the woman in gray says. The woman in red softly smiles and winks at her, “You have not failed me, sit back and let me handle it from here”. She stands up and faces Terarchy. “It’s been some time Terachy, so, what is it you want?” the woman in red says, walking to put herself between Terarchy and her subordinates. “I have come to talk Countess,” Terachy says simply. The Countess smiles, “You have an odd way to ask to talk, what can I help you with?” Terachy stares at her, emotionless. “You have an individual that I am looking for, a shifter boy, hand him over and I will be on my way,” he utters. “Sorry, don’t have anyone like that in my service, and even if I did, who would you want em?” The countess replies. Terarchy turns his head ever so slightly towards the tabaxi woman. “Word has it that he ventured into the Jester’s domain and made it out freely, the Emperor views this as a worthwhile venture,” Terachy explains. The Countess bursts out laughing. “Darling, you don’t have to tell half truths to me, I’m not stupid. You want to bait out the Jester using this individual so you can claim the Mask of the Fallen King, isn’t that right?” Terarchy stands silently. “Bingo,” the Countess remarks. “Too bad, you can’t have em,” the Countess goes on to say. “I take it that is your answer then,” Terachy says, dropping his hands to his side, with the ends of his chains resting on the floor. “It is,” the Countess replies, drawing a pink whip that was on her thigh. In the blink of an eye, the room erupts with a storm once again, with the sounds of a whip cracking and chains rattling reverberating across the city. The Countess whips to the left, before putting her hand into the whip, guiding it to slam into the side of Terarchy and sending him flying into the wall. Terachy quickly rolls out of the way of a follow up attack and uses his chains to bind the arms and legs of the countess. “Kinky sweetheart, shame you're not my type,” the Countess says, breaking free of the chains before Terachy is able to land a follow up punch. As the Countess stands back up, Terachy hears a voice echo in his head. “Return to me,” the voice says. The storm subsides and the Countess and Terachy stare at each other. “The Emperor calls on me, so this is where our duel ends, but do not mistake my departure here for the end of this matter,” Terarchy states. The Countess smugly smiles. “Your master is pulling your lead puppy dog, best behave yourself,” winking as she says it. Begrudgingly, Terachy removes his glove, revealing a black ring. Clenching his fist, he is soon engulfed in black flame and vanishes. “But mistress, why did you let him flee uncontested?” the woman in gray says baffled at the actions that just took place. “You see Pane, when it comes to power, Terachy is rumored to be my equal, that said, my strengths were ill suited for our fight just now, where it gave him a slight advantage. We are evenly matched, however, his destructive capabilities far outweigh my own, and I fear that, should we have continued, he may have destroyed the entire city of Marah in our fight. You remember the fallout after the Scarlett Kingdom was destroyed, don’t you? That was a single small organization with little significance in the grand scheme of things, imagine if all of my connections and servants in the capital were destroyed. Damage like that will take centuries to fully recover. So cheer up, we lost nothing significant in the skirmish, and we gained intel into what the Emperor is plotting,” the Countess explains to the woman in gray, helping her and the tabaxi woman to their feet.

\*\*\*

Terarchy looks around, the dark gothic architecture of this hallway, lined with black marble statues, and endless number of doors, and candles were a familiar sight to him, he was in the infinite castle, Pandemonium, the stronghold of the Demonic Emperor. Terarchy walks for what feels like an eternity, for here, time works differently. Suddenly, a door to his left opens, and out walks a middle aged man, clad in purple robes. “Lord Terarchy, it has been some time, 90 years if I recall correctly?” the man says, making polite conversation. Terarchy glances over to him, his face not making any indication that he is thrilled to see this man. “Lord Pride, indeed, 92 years to be exact,” Terarchy corrects. Pride and Terachy begin to walk down the hallway together. “If the two of us were summoned here, that must mean something big has happened, we weren’t even all summoned together when the heroes arrived, so what do you think it could be? Maybe Lord Melbagol was slain?” Pride states. Terachy makes note of what was said, but looks disapprovingly over to Pride. “Melbagol killed, unlikely, there are maybe three people capable of fighting him evenly in melee combat. Leopoldt Clause, Lamontain Vermillion, and myself. Even among them, I doubt either would be capable of killing him outright.” Terarchy explains. Pride nods in agreement. “Lord Melbagol’s anti magic makes him well suited to deal with spell casters like myself, and it also makes him a wild card against even the other Warlords, I doubt any would even test their luck in a fight against him,” Pride explains. The two continue down the hallway, seemingly dropping the topic. “Say, not that it’s any of my business to ask Lord Terachy, but didn’t you encounter the heroes recently?” Pride inquires. Terarchy nods in agreement. “While it is true we met, our encounter was brief. As you know, it is our masters' wish to leave them alive, so I mostly avoided fighting them. To answer the question you are bound to ask next, no, I was not impressed with them, in fact, they were more pitiful and weak than even I expected.” Terarchy explains. Pride laughs upon hearing that. “Well, I suppose that sounds about right. I also heard you encountered a dragonborn and goblin in your search for the heroes, did you kill them by chance?” Pride says, changing in tone completely. “No,” Terarchy responds “I know about the defeat you sustained by them in Koyoba, it was pure chance they were involved in tracking the heroes down, I figured that they would be better left to you, since I am aware of your hatred towards them.” Pride stops walking and looks at the scar on his hand. “Those bastards humiliated me in what should have been my moment of glory, I swear that I will kill them for that,” Pride vows. Just then, the door beside them opens, and a man in a black trench coat, black hair, and a sword at his hip walks out. “Oh, Lord Melbagol, it is a pleasure to see you in good health, we were worried that something had happened to you.” Pride says, turning his attention away from the previous conversation. Melbagol walks out, opening his eyes, revealing a symbol in his iris’. “Oh please, like anyone could just kill me out of nowhere.” Melbagol responds. No sooner did the words leave his mouth did the room shift, revealing a massive black door in front of them. The door slowly opens to the sound of a piano playing Lacrimosa. In the room, pillars  circled the center, where a grand black piano sat. Sitting at the piano was a man in a black suit, with a white and black wing coming out of his back. As the song finished, Pride and Melbagol kneeled, with Terarchy remaining standing with his arms crossed. “Thank you for coming so swiftly,” the man at the piano said. “You called us here my master, I will always respond with haste,” Melbagol says. A smile crosses the man's face, however, he remains looking away from them. “I will be brief then, I have been betrayed...”

## Echoes of A Past Far Gone

A cloaked man sits in the center of a ring of candles. The room is dark, but the rough outline of statues are visible. The man is wearing all black, with his face magically hidden behind a shroud of darkness. Eyes closed, he appears deep in thought. From the darkness, a voice can be heard. “Are you alright? You touched the tree and we all felt a strange shocking feeling,” the voice, a deep and coarse one, asks. From the darkness, another voice, this one sounding far older and slower than the other, “Yes, I’m fine Albatross, simply zoned out for a second, thank you though for your concern.” As the voices once again fade into the darkness, a candle is snuffed out. From the darkness again, the deep voice once again speaks, “Thank you for the drink my friend, unfortunately the ale here is far inferior to the type of my homeland, as are most things here. Even my son, as strong as he could be, is lazy and knows not what it truly means to be a warrior. However, perhaps it was I who was to blame for that, I was hard on him, thinking that would beat the laziness out of him. But perhaps my standards were too high, and I lost sight that he was still my son,” the deep voice recounts remorsefully. As his voice once again fades, a second candle is snuffed out. From behind the cloaked man, a soft, female voice echoes around him, “Thank you for journeying all this way, I am really in need of some guidance right now. You see, there are those in my Theocracy that wish to worship us as Gods for our actions in Mori’s rebellion. However, I disagree. I don’t see ourselves as Gods or saviors. We are people helping other people. No matter how many times I request this of my people, they take it as me being humble. It has gotten to the point where they are getting openly hostile with those who follow my wishes. I don’t have the heart to punish those who stray from my belief, because I know they feel earnestly about this. Perhaps you can impart some guidance upon me, teacher?” the soft female voice requests. With that, another candle goes out. To the right of the cloaked man, another male voice begins to speak, this one calm and faint, “I presume you heard about poor Rika. From what I have gathered, it was swift, a blade through the heart. Truly a shame, she was so kind and pleasant to be around. I’m sure Grim is taking this harder than us, those two were especially close. That said, why have you sought me out? If you could not tell, this tower is my bastion, I don’t want it found, since people can be such a bother,” the voice says, trailing once again into the darkness, with it, another candle goes out. To his left, a female voice, out of breath and older, speaks, “You can tell your master that heroes don’t die to the likes of you. By grace or Mars, the six of you will be this old woman’s proving grounds. I may be half the warrior I once was, but I’m still twice as strong as the six of you. If your master wishes me dead, he should stop cowering and face me like the God he claims to be,” and much like the other voices before, this voice once again fades into the darkness to which it came, and another candle goes out. A single candle remains in front of the cloaked figure, and from just beyond it, a frantic and exhausted male voice begins to speak, “These things, they aren’t coincidences, someone is making these actions happen. I have been examining my memories for a long time, looking for what the truth is, and I think I have found it. The tree connects all of us from earth, but what happens if someone who isn’t from Earth makes contact with it? I think he saw something, or rather, something saw him, and manifested through his memories. It knows something that we don’t, or rather fears what we could do. It has already killed the others, and it will come for us…” the voice says, as the sound of blood splattering could be heard as the voice fades away. However, this time, the candle does not go out, but instead, the flame grows smaller and weak, but not extinguished. The cloaked individual opens his eyes, revealing eyes that appear like the cosmos, a deep purple hue, with nebulas and stars illuminating them. The sounds of metal hitting against rock can be heard getting closer to the cloaked individual. “I thought I told you I would be in contact with you, not the other way around,” he angrily states. The figure of an old man stands behind him, with a glowing red hand and a cane in the other, with a gaunt appearance and cat-like features. “I figured I would save you the trouble, that fool in Medo has outlived his usefulness, so I plan to make my move soon. That said, he did give me the intel on where to find the first guildhall. I sent one of my machines to retrieve the map, however, I found a few rodents scurrying around with it. The infestation proved to be…stronger than anticipated, and it was unable to retrieve the map,” the old man said, with a rough and sickly voice, barely speaking loud enough for his voice to leave his ventilator. Unmoving, the cloaked figure responds, “It is of no matter, they can keep the map, that said, I will take more care to pay attention to their goings on. If they lead me there themselves, all the better.” The old man turns to leave, but pauses for a moment. “Oh, there is another piece of information that you might find interesting. My machine detected a high level of frost in the nearby wildlife, it appears you are not the only one to take an interest into the current actions of those rodents. I figured I would leave you with that,” the old man says, then turns and walks away. The cloaked man removes his hood from atop his head, revealing darkness wafting off him like fire, with only the silhouette of a man distinguishing him from the darkness that he is surrounded by. He looks down at the candle, and then stands to look up at the statue behind it. “You still prove to be a thorn in my side, even after 3,000 years Grim, however, things are looking more promising this time. I will find it, and destroy the last vestige of the old truths. My endgame is in motion, and unfortunately for you my old friend, there is no room for you in my new paradise,” the cloaked man says, turning around and once again putting up his hood, turning his back on a statue of another hooded man, wielding a scythe.

## Roar of the Crowd

The sound of people screaming echoes loudly around the area. Hearing these screams, Ganymede thinks to herself if she was ready for what came next. She was gripping her guitar and her backpack was tuned and ready. The sounds of the screams got louder and louder as she walked down the empty hallway. Ahead of her lay a small stairway going up a few steps, the sounds of screaming practically deafening at this point. She took a deep breath, thinking to herself that she could do this. And with that she walks up the stairs and onto a huge stage, with thousands screaming and cheering for her. They had all come to see the renowned musician Ganymede on her global tour. It had been 7 years since she had quit the 5 Phases and became a musician full time, and in that time she had become one of the most popular musicians in the world. She had performed in front of nobles and kings before, but never in front of a crowd like this. She looked out to the grand sea of people, all cambering to get a better view of her. As she looks out, she can remember all the steps that lead her to this point, and she was grateful. And with that, she would strum her guitar for the performance of a lifetime for her.

## Bystander

Maximus had spent close to half a decade in the service of the High Guard, the elite Paladin force assigned to defend the Grand Cathedral, The Council of Ministers, & The High Priestess. In his years of faithful service he served with distinction against the enemies of the Theocracy, and today was no different, looking into the Cathedral Gardens at the skeletal figure that lay across it. Around him are the unconscious bodies of individuals he had granted entry to an hour before. Questions circled in his head, it was evident that these people had battled the dragon, but he was more concerned about where the dragon came from. Maximus would take it upon himself to bring those who had saved his city & subsequently his fiance, to the medical ward to receive treatment for their injuries. As he carried them all upon his back to the nearest medical center, he was met by the High Priestess, Mariah Sanfeld. Her handmaidens explained to Maximus that the High Priestess would take care of the individuals he was carrying and he was permitted to return home for the evening. As he walked home, he felt nothing but thankfulness towards those four individuals for containing what could have wiped out the entire city of White Star. As he returned to his modest home, he was greeted by his fiance, who’s eyes were full of tears. She was so scared something happened to him when she saw the attack on the Grand Cathedral. She embraced him tightly and wept on his shoulder. Maximus could only think of how grateful he was that nobody was hurt in what could have been a slaughter, perhaps he would visit the four individuals when they awakened.

## A Home Long Departed

As the ship pulled into port, there was a sense of elation in the air of Koyoba, capital city of Sernaso. It had been two long years since Bishop was last here, ever since the Koyoba Incident, when the forces of The Demonic Emperor assaulted the city. He was happy to see the city had since been rebuilt. As he got off the ship, he was greeted by two women. One, a red haired human woman wearing a green cloak with a longbow on her back, the other a black haired Shadar-Kai woman draped in all black. As Bishop approached  them, he bowed towards them and greeted them with a smile. As they walked out of the port, Bishop would be praised by the red haired woman on his complete destruction of The Scarlet Kingdom organization. Bishop would praise the individuals he had met in The Eternal Empire, saying that they were skilled individuals who showed great potential as adventurers, and whom he grew rather fond of. As they walked through the bustling city, Bishop would inquire about the good spirits the residents found themselves in. He would be told that in the time he was gone, a new King of Sernaso had been crowned, a young man from a peasant family who had risen through the army. After the previous King died without an heir, a great council was called and chose this young man to lead them. The three of them walked up to and past the castle gates, there  they were led into a large throne room. There, sitting upon the golden throne of Sernaso, was a golden blonde haired young man, dawning silver armor, a sword with a Lion hilt at his side. As these three individuals approached, a soft smile would come across the King's face.

## Requiem For A Dream

Fire engulfed the town, the blood of the residents seeped into the sands of the desert. Alone in the center of the town was a young man, about 19 in age, with a deep wound on his shoulder. Clasping his arm with his remaining hand, Requiem’s vision began to become blurry, as his life began to flash before his eyes, many thoughts swirled in his mind, his friends, family, loved ones, important events, as well as recent ones too. He remembered helping old man Morrow with fixing his house, Mary-Sue’s birthday, and helping a group of four lost adventurers find their way to White Star. In his hands was his fathers blade, a dagger with some magical property that Requiem had yet to fully uncover. As his blood seeped down his arm, he could see the ones who had done this to him begin to approach, they were cultists from a splinter cell of the church, extremists who worshiped the Demon Lords and sought to revive them, cultists from a group called The Paradise Lost Faith who had attacked the capital a few days prior. As his eyes began to grow weak, he could only think of one thing, his younger brother Diurgie who was studying combat in the capital, was he alright? Was he hurt in the attack? As these thoughts left his mind, Requiem fell limp, then jolted back to life, determined not to die without doing something, grasping his fathers dagger with his remaining strength, he lunged at an unsuspecting cultist, driving his dagger deep into his abdomen. In that moment, a dark energy released from the dagger, as a black fire burst from the wound on the cultist, forming into the specter of a giant skeleton. This specter would attack the remaining cultists, devouring their souls, then fade along with the magic from the dagger. Requiem fell to his knees, with all of his remaining strength gone, he looked up to the sky and smiled. It was a lovely day out, not a cloud in the sky, birds flew past and there was a pleasant smell in the air. With this, he took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for the last time.

## Conspiracy Within

High in the Rika Tower, the tallest point of the Grand Cathedral and residence of the High Priestess Mariah Sanfeld. There she sat on the bed, full of confliction and rage. She was enraged by the fact that The Paradise Lost Faith as well as Minister Hope would attack her city and try to kill her people. If it weren’t for the four adventurers who were present, the city would have been likely destroyed, and Minister Hope would’ve gotten what he was after. Now she sits here, pondering her next move. All her life, she had been treated like a chess piece. She had been underestimated by those around her, thinking her weak. Perhaps they are right, despite acting deaf, she truly was blind and mute, she knew her limitations better than anyone. Perhaps if her fate were different, she would be dead by now, but no, she is the High Priestess of The Theocracy, descendant of the Legendary Hero The Hallowed, founder of her nation. The duty of defending its people had fallen to her, and now, those around her were conspiring to usurp her authority. She didn’t much care about losing her rule, she only worried with her gone, who would protect the people. It was this thought that truly bothered her, she was surrounded by enemies, each one of them looking for any opportunity to seize power, with seemingly the only one left being her to stand in their way. At least she didn’t have to worry about Minister Hope for the moment. Despite not being able to remove him from power, he is keeping a wide berth from the capital. Now she has to turn her attention towards The Paradise Lost Faith who have been staging a religious rebellion and killing her people. What to do, she would ponder. Perhaps it was time to fight fire with fire.

## Bellow, O' Lord of Death

Bodies litter the auction house, the blood of the auctioneer drips down one of the columns holding up the upper deck. It is here that a man in a crow mask sits, pondering the events that had just transpired. That shifter kid was quite the amusing showman. He chuckled to himself, he had come here to procure slaves to be sacrificed on behalf of his master, but this was far more fun to him. He reached behind his mask and pulled his hair up into a ponytail. As he stood up, his massive floating golden hands rose with him. As he stood, darkness surrounded him and formed into a floating skull. The head would inquire about the nature of his test subjects, growing enraged by learning of the actions of the shifter boy. How dare he cause such a scene and halt the auction. The head addresses his servant, his…inquisitor. He orders him to return to Translvanta, where they were making their move. The man in the crow mask bowed and the darkness dissipated. A sinister smile crossed this man's face, he had made an enemy of many people through his actions, very powerful and influential people, but that wasn’t his concern, his lord had spoken, and he would obey. Inquisitor Richtofen began to laugh to himself, he wondered how long that boy would last, disappointed in the fact he would not be able to bear witness to his suffering. As he walked through the empty auction hall, he acknowledged that it had been a long time since he had laughed, perhaps that boy would make a great bard, his little trick certainly was amusing.

## Crooked Smile & Twisted Mind

An echo reverberates across the quiet city night. The sound of metal on marble is the only noise in the normally vibrant and lively entertainment district of Marah. Draped in a white lab coat, a half tabaxi man approaches a destroyed building, perhaps the only one in the entire city. His claws unkept and his hair long and disheveled. His shallow mechanical breathing and the march of his cane being the only evidence of his presence. He looks at the destroyed building, hearing about the events that transpired within. A guard on patrol then rounds the corner. He notifies the old man that this area was restricted and that he needed to leave. No sooner did these words leave this guard's mouth did he become engulfed in a great flame, one akin to that of dragon breath. As the guard screamed out in agony, pleading for someone, anyone to come to his aid. The old man simply mumbled in his mechanical voice that there would be nobody coming to his aid, he had made sure of that. As the guards charred corpse smoldered on the marble road, the old man walked past the dead body of what presumably was a bodyguard outfront of the main door to this building, the old man noted the caliber of the bullet holes that were embedded in the front of the building and their faint magical energy. As he walked into what once was a lobby, the old man was greeted by the large hole both below and above him. He then directed his attention towards the corpse impaled through a spike. The spike had seemingly destroyed the head and upper torso of what presumably was once a man. Blood soaked through this corpse's beige pants, and wounds covered his legs and lower torso. The old man smiled in a twisted grin. He said to himself that this corpse would be a suitable base for his newest innovation…

## Who Will Mourn You?

High in the skies of a grand battlefield, adorned with barbed wire, trenches, and the bodies of men, no bird dares fly. The carnage below wiping away any former signs of civilization. Soldiers in armor walk the trenches, on their chest, the insignia of The Junta, the military leadership of the nation of Medo. Despite the surroundings, the atmosphere is high, filled with hope. A ceasefire has been called, the war might be over soon. These thoughts dwelled on the minds of every soldier on the front, for 5 years, war has ravaged their home, but now, light could be seen at the end of this tunnel. All of a sudden, a massive shadow passes over their heads. They all gaze up, fearful of what that could be. Along with the rumors of peace, came the rumors of the refusal of the forces of Orian. From the beginning, Orian has been a wildcard, not subservient to the Res Publica. From stories told by other soldiers, they are rumored to employ monsters in their service. This collective thought would pass through the minds of every soldier in the trench, and their fears would be warranted. Descending from the clouds, appeared a massive Black Dragon, breathing acid into the trenches, slaughtering all in its path. As the dust settles, the carnage of the onslaught becomes evident, not a soul remains on both sides of this battlefield. As the dragon lands, it transforms into a slender woman, with long black hair, crimson eyes and elf ears. Standing atop a pile of corpses, she takes in the carnage of her actions. A breeze bellows her cloak. Dust blows across the barren plain with an eerie silence. The silence is interrupted however, by the metal klang of armor moving towards her. A man, clad in deep black armor, with a billowing red cape, wearing a helmet adorned with two horns. On his back, a lance, as black as his armor, with a ruby red tip. The man stops fifty paces from the woman. “It appears you don’t have the good sense to play dead,” the woman calls over to the man. The man remains silent. “I have never seen someone like you before, tell me, to which side do you serve?” the woman asks. Echoing from within his helm, the man responds. “I do not serve your master, nor do I serve either side in this war, I am here for one reason and one reason only, you.” The woman is almost taken aback by that statement. “My master huh, in that case it’s safe to assume you know who I am then?” the woman asks. “You are a dead woman walking, for I am surrounded by nothing more than corpses on this battlefield,” the man states. A grin crosses the woman's face, “Dead huh? You have some bold statements armored man, tell me, what would be your name? The woman inquires. “I owe a beast like yourself no name, for I am as nameless to you as the corpses that adorn this battlefield,” the man replies. The two remain silent for a moment. “Very well, if you won’t give me your name, I will simply forget you when you die here, with no one to mourn you armored man,” the woman states boldly. “And you Bellatrix the Hunter? Who will be left to mourn you? Your husband is doomed, as are your comrades and master. The annals of history will pass you by, until you are nothing more than those you see around you, nameless and forgotten,” the man replies. This would strike a nerve in the woman called Bellatrix, as she would morph into her dragon form, unleashing a mighty roar that echoed across the barren battlefield, unleashing her acid breath towards the man. A tidal wave of acid envelopes the man, and for a moment, Bellatrix believes he was nothing more than bravado, but that though would soon dissipate from her mind, as the acid would be absorbed into the ruby red tip of the man's lance, with the tip now turning into an emerald green. The man would leap into the air, a feat remarkable due to him wearing full plate armor, and thrust his lance into her throat, piercing a large gash into the dragon. The dragon would swing its tail and bat away the man, taking to the skies to avoid any more attacks by that spear. Suddenly, her vision went black, as if it had suddenly turned to night. Before Bellatrix would have the opportunity to respond, she felt her wings be torn off her back, sending her plummeting to the ground below. Seriously inquired and still without vision, she would morph out of her dragon form, now unable to maintain it. She was afraid, she lost all of her senses, and couldn’t mount a defense. “Who are you!” she screamed in fear. “Come now, you preyed on all of these poor fools and yet you are afraid now? Now I guess you understand how they felt, faced with impossible survival,” the man's voice echoed from around her. It finally dawned on her, she was dead, the man had her at his mercy, and it was clear he wasn’t going to let her live. Fear rushed into her every muscle and bone, unable to move. With one swift thrust, she felt a pain in her chest. Now in her final moments, her vision returned to her, a lance pierced through her heart. She slumped to the ground, blood seeping out of her mouth. “If you have a god, I suggest you make your peace,” the man recommends. “I have no gods I serve, please my master, forgive me…and Aefelred my love carry on…” she says with her last breath. The man in armor looks down at the elf known in life as Bellatrix with a sense of indifference. Out of the silence of the battlefield, the sound of clapping emanates from behind the man in armor. He turned to see another man, wearing a purple overcoat, hair half white and half black, with an eyepatch covering his left eye. “Well done, consider me impressed boss, she’ll definitely be sold on you joining us after that display,” the man in purple says, standing up and walking past the armored man. “But just one word of warning, she expects a lot from us, so make sure you maintain that excellence…Scorpio…”

## Thus Spoke The Truthsayer

Disappointment was the only emotion that Saiph could feel, how could she feel anything else. Rigel had proved inadequate for the service of her master. As she flew through the sky, she pondered whether one of the heroes would prove to be a more adequate test subject. The brief thought brought her a semblance of joy, for she always loved a new project to play with. As Saiph descended through the clouds, she could see the slummy city known as the Beast Cage, the largest city of the province of Orian. Saiph had called this place home for well over three decades, and served her master faithfully for far longer than the other three, Betelgeuse, Bellatrix & Rigel. Despite her long years of service, she had been passed over for leadership, with her master choosing that creep Betelgeuse to lead the forces of Orian instead. This sense of bitterness would pass however, this was because she would have more time for her experiments. Saiph would fly to a grand castle in the center of the Beast Cage which towered over all the other buildings. She would remark to herself how quiet the city was, normally the city was wild and rowdy, not that she was complaining, some quiet was nice for a change, however, it was unusual to not see any of her master's pets guarding the castle. As she made her way through the castle, she would confirm that there truly was no one around. Saiph would make her way to the throne room, to ask her master personally why there was no one around. She would drag the headless corpse of Rigel behind her as she opened the massive doors to the throne room. Saiph would immediately get the answer to her question upon opening the door. Piled in a tower, all the corpses of her master’s pets would be stacked, unmoving and very dead. Sitting upon her master’s throne was the decrepit body of an old tabaxi man, ventilator over his mouth, tubes connecting different parts of his body, and a glowing red metal hand. Saiph’s fear would immediately subside upon seeing this old man however. “Oh, it’s just you teacher, had me worried for a second there, say, do you happen to know where my master or the others are?” Saiph would ask the old man. The old man would meet her gaze, and over the sound of his ventilator, he would respond, “They went to Vekades”. Saiph’s face would turn to shame upon hearing that. “Oh no, that was today? I totally forgot, I was so busy babysitting this one that I lost track of time,” Saiph would say, motioning down at the body behind her. The old man remained silent, quietly judging Saiph .”I appear to have made a miscalculation,” the old man finally says, breaking the silence. Saiph would look back up to the old man, tilting her head slightly. “Oh? And what would that be teacher,” she says, genuinely confused. “Oh, since you’re here teacher, I learned something really fascinating today actually, do you know what a refrigerator is? The old man, upon hearing this, raised his eyebrow slightly, and then stood, gazing down with fury at Saiph. “Oh Saiph…” the old man begins.  In the blind of an eye, Saiphs head would explode in a spray of blood and brain matter. The old man grabbed a handkerchief from his lab coat, wiping the blood off his metal hand. “...Don’t you know better to not go around asking stupid questions that you should’ve never known in the first place.” The old man glances at the body of Rigel, and then back to Saiph. A crooked grin would cross his face. “These two should work better than the last one,” he would mumble to himself. He would snap his fingers, placing himself and the bodies in a globe of invulnerability just and a massive explosion levels the entire island of Orian.

## Brewing Conspiracy

Music blasts loud through the seemingly infinite hallways of Pandemonium as a caped figure levitates toward the source of the noise, an ornate black metal door. The man is pale, with long white hair and sharp fangs. He opens the door revealing a massive party taking place on the other side. He however was unsurprised by the events going on, for this happened everyday. He made his way through the hordes of partying demons and fiends until he reached a semi circular table where a scantily clad blond woman sat, with a man and woman in either arm. She looks up, taking notice of the vampire floating before her,  waving off her two attendants before speaking to the vampire, “Lord Wrath, it is rare to see you in my humble slice of Pandemonium, what do I owe this pleasure,” she says standing up and placing her fingers seductively on his chest. Unamused, Wrath grabs her hand and breaks it with a swift twist. The woman has no reaction however, as she removes her now twisted and broken hand away from Wrath, “You made your point, sit, what do you wish to discuss with me?” Wrath takes a seat across from her, the music loud, they are barely able to hear each other over it. The woman places her hand on the table, now engulfed in a black flame, which repairs her hand. “What I am about to say remains here, understood?” Wrath threatens. The woman nods her head in subtle agreement. “It regards our master's directive to let the heroes do as they please, and remain away from them. It makes no sense to me, these are the people prophesied to kill him, yet he wishes to remain in the shadows doing nothing, with all our forces we could wipe out the heroes easily, yet he still chooses to prioritize the other warlords. I really thought about his motives, for weeks I stirred about its meaning, until I got it, it’s a test, after Lord Pride and Lord Melbegol failed him in Koyoba, costing us Sloth in the process, he is looking for their replacements. Our master must wish for one of us to take initiative in killing the heroes, and in doing so, prove ourselves to him. Lord Terarchy, Lord Melbegol, and Lord Pride take his words at face value, and in doing so, are willing to sit idle and disgrace our master further. That is why I come to you Lust, if all of us work together, we can usurp the roles of Lord Melbegol and Lord Pride, what do you say?” Wrath explains. The woman stirs for a second, weighing the merit of his words and choosing her next words carefully. To her, this opportunity was a win win. If Wrath was right, then she could advance herself, and if he was wrong, she could pin all the blame on him, playing it off as all his idea. “Ok, if for a moment we speak hypothetically, and this wasn’t the ramblings of someone trying to make his madness make sense, what did you have in mind?” She inquires.  Wrath leans in and speaks to Lust at a volume in which the music drowns out what is said. Lust nods her head in agreement, that sounds like a convenient time to strike, but aren't you worried that the Omega Ranks will take action, especially Verillion. He was able to fight toe to toe with Lord Melbegol for a time alongside Leopldt Clause. And there is also Black, the man who killed Sloth, if we’re not careful, those two especially will be a big problem.,” Lust says, voicing her concerns over Wrath’s plan. “It is not a worry, Bishop Black was only able to beat Sloth after interference from the ones who nearly defeated Pride along with the other two Omega ranks, but if we stick to my plan, we can eliminate Verillion quick enough where he is no help to them. Furthermore, if we enlist the aid of the others, we can ensure the Omega Ranks are separated long enough for us to kill the Heroes,” Wrath explains. Lust considers the proposal, knowing it would mean an all out battle with the 5 Phases, a battle in which they lost the last time they went to blows, a fight in which they lost with stronger fighters at that. But there was a chance this could work. “You mentioned the others, who specifically are you referring to?” Lust asks. Wrath looks across the room to three men, one a hulking orc man wearing a dire wolf pelt over his shoulder, one a small kid with a blindfold over his eyes, and the last a man dressed in a black and blue cloak with a bandana over his mouth and nose. “Lords Gluttony, Envy, and Greed of course.” Wrath says. “Then why speak to me if you wish for their aid?” Lust inquires. A smile crosses Wrath’s face. “Because we both know the sway you hold over each of them, and if you were onboard, then they would be too.” Wrath says bluntly. Lust bursts out laughing. “You got me there, very well, I’m in, as are they, we’ll await further details for your plan Lord Wrath.” Lust says with a smile on her face. Wrath stands and leaves the table, exiting the room. A wicked smile crosses Lust's face, before pulling out an onyx black ring. “My master, I have reason to suspect that Lord Wrath, Lord Gluttony, Lord Envy, and Lord Greed have betrayed you.”