Uriah made his way through the crowded Tavern towards the elven merchant, if these items are in any way linked to the situation within the city or not, this man is the strongest lead he has come across. It is far too much of an anomaly that someone would enter a bar to peddle their wares in any case, the market district being a good walk to the east into the city. This was far too much of a coincidence in the current climate. As Uriah approached, the man turned to him. An almost inhuman grin from ear to ear as he looked with anticipation at Uriah’s approach.

“What's this I see? A Demonborn coming to peruse my wares? Source touched items for a man from a source touched lineage, it is written in the stars!” exclaimed the man, his hands on his head in an unnatural expression.

“We can drop the act now peddler, I'll happily have a look at your wares once you show me that you are allowed to sell them.” replied Uriah, flashing his crest of house Tempestus.

“Oh no! It appears we have been found out! Captured! Ensnared in a carefully laid trap by the crown, oh woe is me men! Whatever shall we do!” exclaimed the elf, as if spinning an epic tragedy upon the grandest of stages, his men stood stock still with neutral expressions. He went into his cloak and pulled forth a document, his grin taking on a dark and serious look as he beckoned Uriah take it.

“Read it eye of the king, a note from your own port authorities, nothing here is cause for you to worry. Now, would you care for a look, or will you fly back to your master little crow?”

Uriah took the document from the man and seen the seal of Pavis, a local authority of the trade from the docks. His back stiffened, who was this man? The aura of source power coming from him made everyone else whom was source touched in the room seem miniscule in comparison, including him and Emmeric. Uriah made to reply when he noticed the great white draconic known as Veraxes standing beside him, now only noticing that like Therwick, this draconic was scarred from head to toe, armoured in simple leathers and almost bare chested himself, carrying a warhammer that no man could wield with any level of skill.

“Source items you sell? I will look, show me.”

“Kraven is curious also” the voice of the dark elf was heard from slightly behind Uriah, Kraven was clad from head to toe in blackened leather covered in a cloak well-worn from travel, a huge halberd over his shoulder.

“Ah gallant customers here to save a weary merchant from the streets! What heroes you are! Come one and all and peruse my wears!”

As patrons from the bar began investigating the wares offered by the peddler, Uriah sighed, this was the one lead he had, but who is this man, what was the look he gave him? He felt nothing but unease at the sight of this man, he noticed Emmeric and Therwick had joined him.

“A don’t like this Urie my lad. Somethings not right with this elf.” Said Therwick.

“I agree Uriah, the presence I feel from this man is somewhat worrying.” agreed Emmeric

Uriah nodded at his newfound companions. “You’re right, I must go and speak with my lord regarding this, I will return before the sun sets.”

“A drink when you return laddie, off you go then.”. With a nod to Therwick, Uriah gathered his possessions. Placing his mask on his face and his hood over his head, he left the tavern.

Uriah left the tavern and took in the surroundings of the Stormhold Docks, it was late afternoon and the dock was beginning to quiet down as the last of the cargo was being loaded and unloaded from the docked trade ships and the last of the departing ships could be seen leaving the natural harbour that encased the strait of storms. Turning left Uriah made his way along the trader's road, named as such due to the high level of traffic coming to and from the docks to the market district where the goods brought from far and wide would be sold to the citizens of Stormhold or loaded onto wagons to be transported further inland. He passed by the many warehouses and brothels which dotted the district, providing services to men from all walks of life frequented by guard and sailor alike, a tell-tale sign he had entered the common slums of Stormhold. Not once was Uriah approached, he presented an intimidating presence in his mask and black garb, he preferred it that way. Several drunks barred his path and were dealt with by a simple push, plenty of guards are around at this hour and the risk of trouble was minimal. These concerns where nothing to Uriah however, he was more interested in the dark robed follower he had picked up shortly after he had left the docks. The source is a presence within every soul in the world, when manifested strongly it is a force akin to powerful flames manifested in the very room in which all can feel, for some the manifestation is negligible at best, almost null. This presence had power however, it certainly wasn’t the elf, that presence would be as apparent as standing in the centre of a monsoon. Uriah banked to his right, brought low a drunk behind him to bar his path and made a dart down one of the local alleyways. The presence was still behind him at a distance, he was certain there would be a fight, but this was Arvos’s city, he would need to keep the damage to a minimum. He came to a wider area within the city's slums.

Upon surveying the available space and lack of any other presence, Uriah turned to the alley from which he emerged.

A human would have great difficulty seeing in this light, but not Uriah. Uriah was demi-human, a Demonborn descended from the union of demon and devils with the humans of old and like other demi human races, Uriah could see in the dark. One of many boons his bloodline gifted him, much to the chagrin of human nobility. The figure approached through the darkness and stood at the opposite side of the wide alley way.

“Nice night for a stroll Sir Gannon, don’t you think?” said the figure, grinning under his hood. “it’s a shame you won’t be able to enjoy the sunset.”

“I imagine that this scenario is going to play out well in your head?” asked Uriah. “Then be quick, I have other matters to attend to and you didn't book an appointment.”.

The robed figure began to laugh at Uriah. “You are brave Uriah Gannon, a shame then that you just can’t leave well enough alone. As such you must be silenced.”.

The dark figure raised his hands to chest height and began conjuring a source spell of great power, the manifestation of fire grew in the man's hands until the intensity of only the light hurt the eyes.

“Goodbye Sir Gannon, enjoy your trip to the abyss!” screamed the assailant and threw the fire towards Uriah, consuming him within a sea of flame triggering maniacal laughter from his attacker, cut short when the flames dispersed, Uriah stood unscathed.

“Shame, had I been human, that might have actually worked.”.

Uriah charged his enemy, raising his arm to the heavens and conjured a mass of green lightning in his hand and with a swift movement brought his arm down. The lightning extended into a venomous green blade of pure energy and connected with the assailant's shoulder, cutting through to his waist. The assailant tumbled and lay there in two parts, gasping for breath and choking on his own blood. Uriah approached the mortally wounded man and stood above him.

“I suppose you’re not going to tell me anything, you’d likely rather die than give me any information should I ask for it, am I correct in this assumption?”

The hooded figure raised his remaining arm and began conjuring weak flames from his failing source, flickering in and out of life, pure hatred streaming from his eyes and choking curses towards Uriah.

“I thought as much.”. Uriah presented the hilt of a sword from his leather belt and in a flash of brilliant green light an emerald sword blade sprung from it.

“Luckily for you I am not one who takes pleasure in suffering.”. Uriah raised his blade and plunged it down through the robed figures heart. The figure choked one final curse at Uriah before the light of his source was extinguished from his eyes and nothing but an empty stare remained on his face.

Uriah searched the man's body and found nothing, save a pendant of peculiar design, the kraken like features of the medallion sent shivers up Uriah's spine, this was alien to him. He knew not what the figure the pendant was styled after was, yet it terrified him for a reason he could not place. On the reverse there was a line of text in some foreign tongue, one he had never seen before. Uriah summoned his demonic power of the rune seeker, an ability many of his race had to rearrange visual text to a legible form. The letters began shifting before his eyes as the gift done its work but suddenly a pain, as if white hot spikes were pushed into his eyes shot through him and the amulet dropped to the floor. Recoiling from the pain Uriah gasped for breath.

“What in the ten hells are you?” he whispered, looking from the amulet to the corpse, it was then he noticed the unnatural smile that had appeared on the corpse of his would-be assailant. Tearing a length of cloth from the fallen man's robe, he wrapped the amulet up and stored it in a belt pouch and re-attached his hilt. He exited the alleyway and stopped to scan his surroundings, had there been another, surely, he would’ve come to the aid of his comrade? He turned to the right and continued along the trader's road. After some time, he exited the slums and came to an area where the trader's road crossed into the market district and connected with the storm road which led to the citadel of the King. Following the storm road north, he came to the citadel and was met by the castle’s security forces.

Stolen story; please report.

“Halt sir and state your business.” called the guardsman.

Flashing the crest of the tempest the guard nodded to Uriah and turned inwards.

“Open the gate! It is Uriah of the Kings Eyes!” called the guard.

In only a moment the mighty portcullis of Tempest Keep was drawn up and Uriah entered the grand courtyard. The hustle of the guards patrolling the grounds and manning the walls where normal at this time, the guard typically changed at the eighteenth hour of the day. The mighty white walls of Tempest Keep where manned by the best that Stormhold had to offer around the clock and had been since the cities founding. Uriah went astride the great pearl white steps to the grand doors which led to the court of the storm king, casting a stark contrast against them in his jet-black garbs. He approached the doors which were swung open by the guards manning the entry way and he entered through the grand archway.

The Throne room of the storm king was awash with every colour of the imaginable. Great banners showing the heraldry of Stormhold hung from the walls, awash with blues and greens, yellows and reds. The mighty coats of arms of the noble houses which made up the nobility hung from every wall and pillar. In place of pride, above the Throne was the banner of house Tempestus showing a regal arrangement of waves topped with the sun to which Uriah owed his fealty. King Arvos Stormborn of the royal house Tempestus stood at the foot of his throne speaking with his subjects, laughter could be heard resonating throughout the hall as banter was had between the king and his people. Kindness, empathy, humanity even, had made Arvos a good king but it was also his greatest weakness. Uriah approached and kept a distance while the king conducted his conversation, not wanting to interrupt, he waited patiently for the king's audience. Arvos looked from his group and saw Uriah standing, patiently awaiting the king’s attention.

“If you would excuse me my lords, I have an urgent matter to attend to, safe journeys to your estates, good evening!” explained Arvos laughter still lingering on his voice.

The nobles bowed to their king and began to file out of the throne room, flanked by their household guards, Uriah caught more than one look of disdain from the crowd as they left. Eventually, the sound of the doors to the throne room dragging closed echoed through the vast halls before silence fell upon the room.

“My king.” said Uriah and took to one knee before the king of storms.

“How many times must I remind you Uriah to drop the formality when we are alone?” said Arvos, a solemn grin on his face.

“Apologies sire, old habits die hard.” replied Uriah as he rose to his feet, extending his arm.

Arvos approached Uriah with a hard look on his face. “I suppose I can look past it this time Uriah.”

After a moment, Arvos began laughing and embraced Uriahs proffered forearm. “My friend, it has been a while. How are you?”

“Your servant is well Arvos., although we must speak on an urgent matter.”

Arvos sighed “You never change Uriah, come, we shall walk and talk my friend.”

Uriah walked with the king through the halls of the Citadel, passing through hallways lined by baroque suits of armour, weapons of masterful make, the bones of mighty dragons, beasts, captured banners and icons from wars past. Eventually, they came to a door manned by two guards who stiffened to attention and opened the door for their king. Uriah and Arvos entered the king's study, a spacious room but simple in comparison to the rest of the citadel. A simple desk of oak wood with a leather lined chair lay at the end of the room lined with parchment and quill, bookshelves which where home to many tomes and scrolls detailing the history and records of the kingdom going back to the cities founding. Arvos gestured Uriah to the two chairs positioned at the mighty fireplace at the end of the room.

“Red wine from Lentrio?” asked Arvos light heartedly.

“I would like nothing more my king.” replied Uriah with a smile.

Arvos took the crystal decanter from the small table between the chairs, poured two measures into the accompanying goblets and handed one to Uriah who took it gratefully.

“Must you wear that thing on a constant basis?” Asked the king passively, swirling his wine.

“I suppose not sire.” Said Uriah, removing his mask and hood. Arvos was one of the only people whom Uriah could display his crimson skin and horns to comfortably.

“One day I will have you call me Arvos and it will become a regular occurrence Uriah, you need not keep up this King nonsense with me in private.”

“My apologies, after all you have done for me my king it is hard to avoid.”

“I did nothing for you except offer you forgiveness Uriah, the incident at the crimson flame wasn’t your fault. Redemption is earned, not given! You where -”

Uriah raised his hand to Arvos. “I do not wish to discuss it Arvos, I see it every night in my dreams and need no reminder. It is my burden to bear.”

Arvos sighed. “Well, at least you called me Arvos for once.” the king smiled. “Now, what have you to report, my eye?”

Uriah produced the amulet, still wrapped in the strand of the robe from the hooded figure and lightly tossed it to Arvos. “There's an elf of great power peddling source touched items in the docks, however he has a legitimate writ of trade for the city.”

Arvos unwrapped the pendant from the cloth and rolled it over in his hands, inspecting the crude craftmanship. “And this? This is one of the items he is selling to his customers?” asked Arvos curiously.

“Not exactly.” replied Uriah. “It was worn by one of his men, he followed me into the slums when I was heading here from the docks, he was powerful in the source, not as powerful as that elf though.”

Arvos nodded. “And the elf? Was he more powerful than you?”

Uriah looked at the floor. “Vastly more powerful my king.”

“I understand, so you came to possess this from his follower, I assume he no longer resides within this world?” asked Arvos passingly since he already knew the answer.

“You are correct my King. I detoured through an alley way and faced him; he attacked me there.”

“Dead then.” Arvos said, confirming to himself. “And the writing on the back of this, what does it mean?”

“I cannot read it.” admitted Uriah. “Attempting to causes me great pain.”

“Now that is concerning Uriah.”.

“Indeed, my king, it is my belief that whatever the cause of the strange items could be, I believe that elf is at the centre of it, it is my intention to pursue this as a lead, with your leave of course.”

“If you believe it to be best Uriah, I trust you fully on this issue. There is a reason you report directly to me. Do you have a plan?” asked Arvos intrigued by the development.

“I haven’t gotten that far; I'll continue watching the activity at the docks and try to keep track of this mysterious elf and try to gauge his intentions. Although I fear this goes much deeper than illegal trading.”

“You may be right, follow your instincts Uriah, I have full faith in you.”

Arvos raised his goblet to his friend. Uriah returned the gesture, and they finished their wine. Uriah savouring the taste. He placed the goblet back on the table and both where refilled by Arvos. They spoke at length about the day to day of the kingdom, Arvos complained about the duties expected of a king as was his habit in Uriah’s presence, laughing and joking about providing audiences and meeting with foreign embassies. How Uriah deserved this friend he knew not, Arvos had shown kindness to him even after he committed the ultimate sin of betrayal in his past, delving too deeply for knowledge and power led to his downfall. He could now only use the power he had gained in his service to attain some level of redemption. Uriah was once a mage hunter with the order of the Crimson Flame, specialised in hunting Maleficarum, rogue mages who twisted source powers for their own selfish desires of power. He had become the very thing he had vowed to destroy. Lost in his thoughts, Uriah heard the great bell tower in the middle of the city sound the 20th hour of the day.

“I’ll be off then, my king.” Uriah said, rising from the chair.

Rising to meet him, the king offered his arm “Ah, that you will be Uriah, remember should you need anything my friend you need simply ask.”.

Uriah clasped forearms with the king. “Thank you, my friend, but I work alone, it’s easier that way.”

Uriah walked to the door of the room and opened the door. Arvos called to him, and Uriah stopped. “Does he still whisper to you?” asked the king, as if cautious of the wording.

“He does my king.”

“He can’t bring her back Uriah, as many times he has promised it just isn’t possible.” said Arvos, a warning lingering on the tone.

Uriah sighed as his shoulders slumped. “I know, but I have to try.” replied Uriah as he left the study.

Arvos returned to his chair and sat in silence for a moment, staring into the wine in his goblet. “If only I could free him from your grasp devil, I'd do so in an instant.” exclaimed Arvos aloud, before finishing his wine, the amulet given by Uriah still on the table. The king picked it up and twisted it in his hands.

“Now, what secrets could one trinket such as this hold?”.