ALBION (HUMAN)
Today has been a strange day, and I have an unsettling feeling it’s just the beginning of a long series of events that will shake the kingdom of Elbak. What happened in the forest—the things we saw, the battles we fought, the chaos we provoked—it all feels like the first ripples of a growing storm.
The worst part is that everything seems to converge around this forest and its mysteries. The tensions between the dwarves, humans, and Kael Margonos, that zealous and unpredictable Grand Inquisitor, are bound to escalate. Kael didn’t even bother returning to Benamire with the rest of us. He and his loyal hounds went straight north, toward the mountains and the fortress of Kor Morne. Everyone knows what that means: the Inquisition is about to unleash its forces. Soon, hordes of inquisitors, apprentices, and soldiers will pour out of Kor Morne. It’s inevitable.
I can only hope the kingdom won’t suffer too much from this tidal wave. I’m not alone in my concerns; I overheard some officials speaking with Eldan. He’ll have to justify the mission’s failure and deal with the potential devastation a mobilized Inquisition could leave in its wake.
What I know for certain is that the forest will become a battlefield. Kael will stop at nothing to claim it for the Inquisition. It’s clear he won’t back down, much to the dismay of our King Aldrik and the dwarves. The latter won’t yield either. Their pride and bond with the forest will keep them from folding in the face of human invasion.
How will Aldrik react? That question haunts me. Remaining neutral could mean losing control of the southern part of his kingdom. Aligning with the Inquisition? That risks alienating his nobles, allies and sacrificing men for the order’s ambitions. Opposing it? That could lead to outright war—not just against Kael and his forces, but against an organization whose influence spreads like the tentacles of a kraken across the entire continent.
Every choice seems to open the door to new problems, and the more I think, the more questions arise. The most pressing, however, is simple: how much time do we have? How long before the army conscripts us again by force? How long before this forest becomes a forbidden zone, inaccessible, and all its riches slip through our fingers?
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Lyrel, the elf who now seems almost officially part of our group, is talking with Groboln and a few other men. Her face is as stoic as ever, but there’s a spark in her eyes. I lean in slightly, curious about what they’re plotting.
"We didn’t even get paid for this, can you believe it?!" Groboln growls, proudly displaying a chunk of metal he managed to snag after our fight with the mutant troll.
The conversation grows livelier as Groboln waves it around, its surface glinting dully in the fading light.
"You lot wouldn’t know an opportunity if it smacked you in the face!" he exclaims, his grin wide and mischievous.
Lyrel raises an eyebrow, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "And I suppose this… treasure will fund your early retirement, Groboln?" Her comment draws laughter from the group.
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One of the men from another group, still bitter, responds with a grimace:
"Bastard. We didn’t have time—two of ours got injured. By the time we could move, there was nothing left to take."
Lyrel, following the exchange with amusement, eventually glances in my direction. I see in her eyes that she already knows what I’m thinking. We talked about this earlier. Glory smiles on the bold, sure, and gold on opportunists.
Her gaze lingers for a moment longer than expected, and I feel the corner of my mouth twitch upward into a small smile. There’s something in her expression—a shared understanding, perhaps—that reassures me we’re on the same page.
Around us, the hum of Benamire grows louder, punctuated by the distant clang of horseshoes slamming the pavement and the occasional cry of a merchant advertising his goods. Some of the city crew is already working lighting the streetlamps, their wooden ladders perched several meters above the ground, their bodies secured to the pole with a crude rope. The night is beginning to settle over the streets.
She turns back to the others, her voice clear and composed.
"With Albion, our group leader," she says, gesturing to me, "we’re proposing... a return trip. Not too far, obviously, just to the edge of the devastated zone."
Murmurs rise immediately. Some seem intrigued, but most hesitate. It’s risky, and they know it. The army has officially forbidden any return to the forest, but with their temporary withdrawal to regroup in the capital, only the Benamire garrison remains. In theory what we're about to do is illegal, but in fact no one will stop us. However, dangers are plenty: dwarves lurking nearby, or worse, other creatures like that troll.
As I scan the group, I notice Salina sitting on the outskirts, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her usual confidence seems muted, replaced by a flicker of doubt. I make a mental note to speak with her later—she’s too valuable to let hesitation take root now. Nearby, a street performer begins setting up some kind of table along with a collection of props whose precise purpose eludes me.
I straighten slightly, going closer to them. Lyrel knows what we are doing. She knows this idea is dangerous, but she also knows it carries weight, especially among a group of mercenaries and adventurers hungry for gold. It’s all about perspective.
Groboln finally lets out a chuckle, breaking the tension.
"If it means bringing back something valuable this time, I’m in."
I grumble under my breath. Of course, Groboln is always in, no matter how foolish the idea. But that only makes it easier for the others to give in, letting the temptation pull them under.
The fading sunlight paints the city in hues of gold and crimson, as if trying to remind us of the stakes. The firelight from the pole starts to light us.
The nervous laughter that follows dissipates the tension slightly. I speak up, my voice steady but firm, directing my gaze particularly at Salina, who looks uneasy. I need her in the group.
"Listen. We’re not taking unnecessary risks. We won’t go too far, and if things go south, we turn back. But this is our chance to recover something. The army didn’t pay us, so we fend for ourselves."
The group quiets, their attention fixed on me. The weight of my words seems to ground them, turning their scattered thoughts into something resembling focus. I let the silence hang for a moment, then add, "This forest, for now, is still within reach. And it’s brimming with secrets and riches that only fools like us dare to seize."
I guess tonight won’t be spent in a comfortable room, on a soft bed with Lyrel for company as I’d imagined.
Instead, it’ll be spent in the ruins, scavenging for trinkets.
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In the forest's shadows, strange humanoid forms are already on the move—a literal swarm, heading further and further north. They are seeking something specific...