The threat of war is imminent now, negotiations are futile to begin with, the rumors about Virethian Dominion making an army and starting a so called crusade has spread, like wild fire, and it's uncontrollable now. Mysthaven too began building forces to defend itself. It has been 3 years since I and Lydia arrived, many things have changed since then, we ourselves improved. Now I'm serving the Theocracy of Elarion, serving as a Paladin, together with right-hand man Lydia. 3 years back, sacrificing our freedom to choose and continue on with our lives, we received blessing or gifts from the Goddess, I received my white great sword, with a tint of dark blue, forged from the precious crystals and metals in Elarion, fitted for me to wield, I then named it Elarion’s Veil.

Elarion’s Veil was forged by the goddess herself, a masterpiece created from the rarest crystals and metals found deep within Elarion. The blade, long and broad, shimmers with a brilliance of white and dark blue veins, reminiscent of starlight dancing in the night sky. Its edge is razor-sharp and slightly curved, adorned with ancient runes that glow with the goddess’s magic.

The crossguard, shaped like outstretched wings, symbolizes her protective embrace, with inlaid crystals that catch the light and a central sapphire gemstone that pulses with divine energy. The grip is wrapped in dark, star-patterned leather, ensuring a secure hold, while the pommel boasts a large, multifaceted crystal, refracting light into a spectrum of colors.

I named it Elarion’s Veil to honor the goddess’s blessing and the duality it represents. This sword resonates with celestial magic, enhancing my abilities and allowing me to summon a protective aura, shielding me from harm. When I channel its power, it releases a wave of radiant energy that can blind and disorient my foes.

Despite its size, Elarion’s Veil is perfectly balanced, responding to my every intent. It cannot be wielded by just anyone; it reveals its true power only to those with pure intentions. It is not merely a weapon but a symbol of hope and protection, a testament to the goddess’s grace

On the other hand, me, Lydia, who continues to follow Sir Alaric, since the last three years, I've learned a lot about myself, I've honed my skills and talents as I knew what I was great at. She gave me a Rapier Named, Eclipsed Dawn. This rapier was forged by the Goddess herself, its black blade glimmering with an ethereal white light, like the brilliance of a solar eclipse. The cross guard reflects the delicate balance between light and shadow, shaped like the sun partially veiled by the moon. The grip is wrapped in dark blue fabric, adorned with patterns resembling the stars.

It holds the power to absorb light into its core, enveloping me in an aura of darkness to shroud my movements. And when it releases this stored energy, it unleashes a blinding flash, disorienting any who dare to stand in my way

Both Lydia and I are both unstoppable duos, being their back to back, Lydia has been there at my side, I respect her decision to follow me through this dangerous path, where death could end us. Ever since I joined in with the Theocracy of Elarion, i felt as if, death is within my side watching me? i do wonder if he's there what could he be telling me? those thoughts still lingers, but I brush my head always to think of what is ahead of me?

Learning more about the geography around me, I've visited the merchant Vic, as I slowly knew what surrounds Elarion's Sanctum. it is where we reside, but there is a boundary between the Theocracy and the Dominion. so called The Skyveil Mountains, is the barrier between us, it's a A towering, formidable mountain range separating the two, with a only one safe passage through, though there are ways to Mysthaven, Me and Lydia saw it, on our travels back then, on the way he spotted a mountain peaks, but after seeing the peaks from the middle passage way, it was so tall, that it would take, several days to reach the top of the pathway.

The Irongate, a walled city, bustling with life, the economy booming, filled to the brim with soldiers, as it server as the frontlines of the incoming war. The Irongate stands as a bastion of strength amidst the towering peaks. Its very name evokes the resilience and fortitude of iron, a testament to our resolve against any threat that may seek to cross our borders. This walled city serves as a crucial point of defense, a sentinel watching over the pathway that connects our different regions. Here, within these sturdy walls, we fortify our spirits and prepare to stand united against the darkness that lurks beyond.

Looking it now, I remember my last visit at Vic's popup shop, I remember seeing his eyes filled with fear as the news about the war spreading, The young lad with him named Baron, had also grew, I often see him using his notebook more, as if he was sketching something, maybe a lot too is on his mind.

I once Visited a Temple of Elarion, there i saw those faithful to the Goddess Elarion, like the priestess herself, holding onto her flame amulet, gifted to her by the Goddess, they would gather their as they prayed for days, I too prayed, praying for what is ahead, the future. I do know what will happened to them, but their fate lies within my hands. Right now I am at the frontlines alongside Lydia right beside me, knowing the battle will be soon, I'm writing this right nope so my message and stories can be passed down, as I don't know what will be my fate, if i will return, this could be my last days, but I'm sure of it, the only thing that will change, I will make sure that Lydia has a chance to escape, I don't want her fate to rest on my hands.

It was just the calm before the storm, it was quiet up here, foggy too because of the snow. The soldiers at the frontlines are prepared, It was then we begin to hear sounds of horse gallops as we saw one of the scouts has returned, only one. The gates opened to let the man through.

"Lydia, stay up here, tell them to signal the horn if you see something, I trust your keen eyes." Sir Alaric told Lydia, as she nods and kept watch. Alaric then went down to talk to the scout that got it. as he went down, he saw his face, different from before as if he saw something?

"Scout, where are the others why are you alone?" He asked the Scout.

"They- They we're gone..., w-we were ambushed, by men in violet, my... comrade was shot by an arrow in his nec-" Alaric immediately stopped what he was saying. "Forget about it, you ride as fast as you can, go the 2nd line of defense, warn them that the Virethian are in the frontlines!" As Alaric ordered the scout, the scout left immediately as the gates behind opened.

"Soldiers, prepare the defenses, the enemies are on it's way! stay on your positions at all cost!" Alaric would begin to hear the sounds of marching outside the walls. as Lydia can able to see the sight of the enemy soldiers, she began to tell them to sent the signal. The loud horn can be heard, making the 2nd line of defense have an idea of what is happening in the front lines. the mages began casting spells, as the archers shoots at the enemies to buy them time. arrows also would began flying down into them as the the enemy soldiers are slowly marching in with three siege weapons on them. One of the catapults destroyed one of their siege tower approaching, as the magic casters begins to rain down flame magic into them, it hits the enemy, causing damage to their advance force. but they continued approaching as it repeats. arrows and spears would be launched into the Irongate, the catapults destroying the siege towers and disrupting their formation, along side the mages casting and firing their magic, it repeats for a four days, a cycle that repeats, as if the Virethian Dominion is letting their soldiers die.

Alaric began to wonder the enemies motivation, why do they still continue to persist, with their strong grip onto the walled city. He began to wonder what was the weapon they we're building, at this moment he felt as if death is with him telling him something, but he couldn't figure it out just yet. Something feels off for him, as if an ill omen is coming. He was right, as he then heard a loud thud along the snow and the fog. he begin to see a golem like creature, with it's eyes color green and yellow, the closer he looked it look as if they were orbs. Alaric then realized, the sacrifices the enemies made for five straight days, their deaths was for this creature, they are using the souls of their disease and fallen soldiers. He then begin to see thinner but medium sized creatures with the same green and yellowish eyes. As those thinner creatures began to throw flaming rocks towards the wall, slowly damaging it. The archers from the Irongate returned fire, as they launched arrows at it, it did hit humans that were on the behind it but it just did a little damage in the medium sized one, while in the big one it barely did a scratch. The mages had doubled since the last five days as reinforcements arrived, the scout was able to deliver the message.

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The mages, begin to fire magic towards the enemy, as it was able to do damage, killing one of the medium sized creature. The magic also hits the big one, was slightly damaged, but it continued in it's advance as it begins ramming the door, the mages once again prepared to fire, firing it towards the monster, as they were able to kill it. Alaric then saw the enemy soldiers backing up, like they were retreating, with this moments of peace, the soldiers, the archers, prepared for the next assault. He looked at some of the injured men in the fortress which they stand on, with only a few casualties at the moment. Suddenly Alaric felt something much more sinister than the monsters from earlier, like a unknown energy is heading towards them.

Alaric stared out into the snowy fog beyond Irongate, his heart pounding in his chest. The distant clanking of metal echoed through the stillness, a haunting sound that sent a chill down his spine. A sickly green light pierced the haze, growing brighter as a figure emerged from the mist.

It was shaped like armor but twisted and unnatural, as if crafted by something far more malevolent than the monsters they had faced before. The figure stepped forward, cloaked in dark violet armor that seemed to drink in the very light around it. Its eyes—no, not eyes, but glowing green orbs—burned with an unnatural intensity, as if trapping the tormented souls of the damned within. This was not a living being, but a vessel of pure malevolence, a walking prison for the diseased and dying, preventing them from ever finding peace.

Dragging behind it was a massive black broadsword, its edge scraping against the ground with a sound like nails on a coffin. Wrapped around the blade and coiling around its body were twisted, reddish vines, pulsating like veins feeding off the dark energy within. Alaric’s blood ran cold. This was no mere creature of this realm; this was a horror born from somewhere far darker, a threat the likes of which Irongate had never faced.

The figure continued its relentless advance. Mages on the walls unleashed a volley of fireballs, but the flames dissipated on impact, snuffed out as if swallowed by a void. Arrows rained down, only to bounce harmlessly off the cursed armor. Even the catapults, their stones hurled with desperate force, were turned away, redirected back towards the fortress. The massive projectiles crashed into the walls, shattering stone and crushing soldiers beneath the rubble.

Alaric’s grip tightened on his sword as he watched, horror and rage warring within him. This was no ordinary foe. This was a harbinger of death, a force that could raze Irongate to the ground—and it was coming for them all.

Alaric’s eyes widened as the creature prepared its strike. “Incoming attack!” he shouted, his voice a desperate warning over the din of battle. In the next heartbeat, a dark, blood-red flash tore through the air. The creature's sword came crashing down, shattering the walls of the fortress and obliterating the gates in an explosion of stone and splintered wood.

Before he could react, a cold sensation gripped his mind. His vision blurred, and in an instant, he was somewhere else—seeing what was yet to come. A horrific vision unfolded before him: the fortress in ruins, soldiers of Elarion butchered, the city’s residents slaughtered. Lydia, his trusted companion, lay dead, her body twisted in a pool of blood. And then, he saw himself, the last to fall, a lone figure amidst the massacre.

A voice, like a whisper from the void, echoed in his mind: “The threads of fate... break them. Shatter them. Change everything.”

Snapping back to the present, Alaric turned to Lydia, urgency burning in his eyes. “Lydia! You have to leave, now! Take the soldiers and retreat!”

Chaos swirled around them, but Lydia stared at him, disbelief and confusion etched on her face. “What are you saying, Alaric? We can’t just run! I—”

“There are no buts!” he roared, grabbing her by the shoulders. “This is an order! Get to the capital, warn the goddess! We don’t have time!”

His intensity struck her like a blow, the gravity of his words sinking in. He leaned in closer, whispering something that made her eyes widen in shock, hesitation freezing her in place.

Alaric stepped back, raising his voice over the madness. “Those who have families waiting! Those who wish to live! Retreat with Commander Lydia! But those ready to die, stand and fight with me!”

His command echoed through the chaos, a defiant challenge to fate itself, as the darkness bore down upon them.

Alaric leapt from the walls of the fortress, landing with a thunderous impact, his eyes locked on the twisted revenant below. He was buying Lydia time—one last desperate stand. His white great sword clashed violently against the creature's black broadsword, the force of their collision sending showers of sparks into the night. Every strike, every flash of light, echoed the sheer power of their struggle, and Alaric felt the horrifying weight of it.

Up close, the revenant was a nightmare made flesh. The air around it was thick with the tortured screams of the souls it imprisoned. Alaric’s voice broke through the chaos, raw with fury and revulsion. “What are you?! You wretched abomination! You don’t belong in this world! A creature that tortures the souls of the diseased—I cannot forgive the Virethian Dominion for this!”

He fought on, every swing of his sword filled with righteous fury, each clash a desperate defiance. The air sang with the sound of their blades cutting through it, a symphony of violence. The revenant responded in a guttural, otherworldly tongue, its voice a chilling mockery of life that Alaric couldn’t comprehend. But the meaning was clear enough: this was not just a battle for survival. It was a fight against a darkness that threatened to consume them all.

"Foolish mortal, you cannot fathom the power I wield. This will be your final battle—the end of everything you’ve ever known." It said. As it begin to use it's power, slashing it blades towards Alaric. dodged by Alaric he would look back seeing the walls being decimated. seeing this he charged once more towards his enemy.

As Alaric leaped into the fray, Lydia felt a surge of resolve and followed his command, not knowing if it would be her last act. She rallied the soldiers, her voice cutting through the chaos as they prepared to abandon the fortress. The mournful sound of distress horns echoed throughout the walled city, a chilling warning that danger was imminent—a call to flee before it was too late.

Inside the fortress, the remaining soldiers braced themselves as the enemy began to breach the gates. Dark figures and grotesque monsters surged forward, a tide of malevolence crashing against their defenses. Arrows rained down from the walls, but those nearest were met only by the feeble barriers of shields, slowly succumbing to the relentless onslaught.

The enemy broke through, a wave of bloodlust sweeping into the fortress. The slaughter began, screams of the dying mingling with the clash of steel as the soldiers of Elarion fought desperately, their numbers dwindling against the encroaching darkness. With every breath, they held their ground, determined to protect what little remained, even as the shadows closed in around them.

Lydia and the others began their departure from the walled city. As she looked back, one by one, plumes of smoke began to rise. The city had fallen. Lydia’s heart ached, but she turned away, her gaze set on the distant capital. There was no going back.

Alaric, battered and broken, stood amidst the ruins, his body marked by wounds and scars. The sinister revenant had grown stronger, feeding on the death surrounding them. The souls of the fallen merged with the creature, empowering it further. This was Alaric’s final stand. His trembling hands gripped his sword, its blade buried in the bloodstained earth. With a ragged breath, he accepted that these would be his last moments.

He stood tall, though blood spilled from his lips. "So... this is it..." he muttered through the pain. "You foul revenant... you may take my life... but it won’t be the end. One day... someone will face you again... with this very sword—Elarion’s Veil. It will be the one to end you, I swear it... that will be your fate!"

As his vision blurred, Alaric’s life flashed before him. He whispered his final words, "It has been quite a life... My comrades... thank you. Lydia, I’ll be waiting on the other side... save my soul from damnation, O’ Goddess Elarion."

With that, the revenant lunged, its blade piercing his heart. Alaric’s body faltered, his proud stance crumbling as he fell to the ground, his life extinguished in the shadow of the city’s fall.