The fire swoops like a hungry dog, devouring what the dungeon offers; its black smoke and putrid scent rise from the hole in the earth. The decaying corpse slowly begins to burn, and the speaking demonic tree that dwells within the corrupted chamber burns to the ground, along with its curses.
"Curse you all! You think fire will seal my fate!" Cried the corrupted tree.
Unconscious to oblivion, slumped from the murky, bloody water. Sheila and her companions managed to end the remaining undead before the fire could take their lives.
Their magic and attacks quickly shatter the bones. Reith's offensive strike slices and sickles the walking corpses of the dead. Only a little skill was used, and the adventurers easily ended the remaining undead. The rotten stench of the corpse smeared Natalak. The heat quickly builds up, ready to cook them to death, slowly and steadily.
A hand grabbed Natalak and pulled him to safety. It was Chifya dragging Natalak's lifeless body away from the room. Before the fire could take their life, Sheila and her companions quickly scrambled.
Following Chifya's dragging Natalak away from the chamber, Sheila pulls a scroll; a pure golden light emerges from it, wrapping the tree, preventing the dark forces from slipping out of its prison and allowing the fire to devour the blood-sucking tree. It rages in anguish, but it didn't matter as they hurriedly exited the cave.
Out of the dungeon, Natalak was laid on the grassy ground. The veins were dark in colour as his heartbeat walked to death. Sheila quickly brought out a teleportation scroll. Placing the scroll on the ground right beside Natalak, she then unfolds the scroll, and like the last time, Sheila's hand pressed firmly, triggering the scroll. Upon her activation, it shines like the sun in the morning, followed by the light expanding. And in seconds, the golden light doubles its diameter, expanding till it reaches eight meters.
When the circle was completed, a beam of light hammers down upon the party; in seconds, they rapidly disappear—teleported outside of Ravalind. The party quickly rushes him to the nearest temple and prays that he might recover from his wounds.
Leaving the traveller, at the heart of Ravalind, the king of Keshoval, King Reigal IV, the prince of Aghraim, the eldest prince of Aghraim, and his father, King Helmes, are in tight negotiations.
They sit in a large circle, apart, and arrange their chairs to form a triangle within the circle that symbolises equality. And each of the three had their guardian standing at their side.
For Prince Helmes, a man in golden armour fitted to his masculine body, it was Sir. Lacaren, the one they called 'The spear of the golden sun'. His eyes were straight ahead, his spear gripped firmly in his hand. His long hair was ponytailed, and he had a striking face for a knight.
On the other side of the table was a man with wisdom and magic, a wooden stick with great energy—one of the great wizards of Keshoval and the royal advisor of King Reigal IV. Cloak in a tight robe, but loses down to his feet— tell, his face was older that of his king. His hood was uncovered, revealing a scar on the left side of his chin. He had no name whatsoever, only to be called 'The silent one'.
And the last was a woman standing right beside King Helmes. Her long sword was sheathed at her left waist. Armoured with leather scales and padded with steel and iron, it looks like it has a powerful enchantment on it. A medium golden shield was tight around her left arm. Ancient ruins are carved within the golden shield.
She was well known to be one of the great shield users in Aghraim, 'Roaring Ancient' or so they called. Though she may be a well-known warrior and a beauty, her short black hair covers her left eye, not to mention a very well-maintained body.
They didn't care much about the negotiation of the kings, except the wizard. They only watch each other, looking for a provocation—their hands grip, ready to defend against any attack from either side.
"You look well, Lord Reigal." Lord Helmes greets.
"I have been well, thank you. How were your travels?" Reigal Replied.
"The road was kind; we did pass by some old friends." Prince Harith said.
Lord Reigal nods, and what followed was a pause. And within those seconds of closed mouths and locked tongues, Prince Harith was the one to engage.
"I think I'll be taking my leave now. There's something I'd like to visit." Harith stood, "My lord." Harith bows towards King Reigal. "Father." He continues nodding at lord Helmes.
King Reigal gestures his hand, and a gaze of regard towards the young prince. When the prince exits the room, Lord Reigal nods to his wizard, and his advisor quickly goes towards the door.
"Leave us," Helmes spoke to Sir Lacaren.
Placing his right hand on his chest, Sir Lacaren bows slightly. "As you wish, my lord." The knight calmly said before leaving the two kings to run their tongues.
The door closed, for a moment of silence, probably a minute, King Helmes breaks the stillness.
"You look tired, Reigal."
"Age insists."
"Or grief."
"We do not speak of sons in halls meant for treaties. The past had already wearied us down." Reigal answered, and a hiss of sharp tone for an old king.
"But the past still crawls to this day. And the more we sullied ourselves in wait, the more they savour such docility."
"I understand your grief, old friend, but time like this, our people need rest, as do your citizens. Too many have lost their lives, and too many children have buried their parents, and fathers have buried their children… I've sent an ambassador with my message to negotiate with lord Reynfred."
"And then what? You think Endregar would accept such a meagre thing?"
"The gods will decide."
Lord Helmes gave a tired sigh; the old king was as hard as a stone. "I think this is enough of our discussion." The king said, slowly removing himself from the seat. "But I warned you, old friend, words and compassion alone won't save people from burying their loved ones."
"That can be true…" Lord Reigal follows, as he too vacates his seat. "I have prepared a room for you and your son."
"That won't be necessary, I will return immediately. There's still a lot to fix at my place, too many people are on the throne… though the young prince likes to stay here for a while."
"I understand, I'll see to it that he will be in proper welcome."
Leaving politics aside, there in a secret chamber, a group of people were having a meeting.
Ashalain, together with her companions Garrick, Mishel and Baron, gather in a secret room. Magic faints the chamber, and a circle is drawn as shimmers of blue light illuminate the room. A blurry image of a man appears to be a hologram projected.
"I see that you've all gathered." The man says, in a slow tone of voice, yet hurries as he was. "How are things going for Starhim?" He continues.
"They didn't seem to be bothered by our situation. But somehow, they have something growing. When we found out that they are somehow strengthening their armies with the help of an unknown people." Garrick said.
"And what would that be?" The wizard replies to Garrick.
"I don't know… but somehow we were almost exposed by someone that we couldn't do our mission properly, I'm sorry," Garrick said.
"That seems to be expected…"
"If I may, I thought Sir Darren would be the first to arrive than us."
"I, too, suspect that… but I contacted him, and he seems to be in good condition… nonetheless, his investigation is somewhat similar to the ones you just reported at Starhim"
"I understand. So how was the discussion with the two kings?" Garrick said.
"I cannot tell, but I must go now, the king needs my presence. We will discuss this another time."
Quickly, then, the hologram of the wizard disappeared, as the glowing ring faded. The group now had nothing to exit the chamber; however, Garrick remained in his chair, arms crossed, thoughts full of trouble.
"We'll be going first," Ashalain spoke.
"Hmm…" Garrick nods. "How did it go with that man?" Garrick continues.
"We've settled our differences." The lady paladin averted her eyes.
"I see, have you talked to your father?"
Ashalain's mouth was shut tight; the presence she gave didn't want to answer Garrick's words.
"I will try to talk to him after this problem is resolved."
Garrick groans, "I understand."
"Then I'll be taking my leave, sir Garrick."
The old paladin gazed into his thoughts as Ashalain stepped into the adventurer's guild, where she found Mishel deeply immersed in study. Books and scrolls were scattered across the table, and the mage gently touched the freshly prepared meat and beef stew.
"Where's Baron?" Ashalain ask.
She took her presence of words and closed her study. "I don't know, he already left before I came out, he might be at some other bar drinking. Or in a brothel." Mishel replies.
Ashalain sighs, "Why did I even bother to ask about that man?"
Ordering a dinner for herself, the paladin shoved some of the scrolls for her to take her meals. The night was somehow silent inside the adventurers' guild. Few are on the sessions of their drunkenness; the visit of lord Helmes might be the reason why. But life goes on, and the adventurers would flavour their every survival.