The River Plains is miles upon miles of flat landscape dotted with rolling hills, tiny pockets of forests, and a winding river running through it. The river connected Tameal on the River Plains’ western border to the Topoco ocean that made up the eastern end. When Nameless lived as a Templar, it was named the Imperial River. The Imperium still refers to it as such. Since the River Plains seceded, the name changed, with each city-state claiming it as their own. It is named the Ooraki River, the Rolling Hills River, and the Visiti River. However, the common folk called it the Dragon River, based on the legends that the river was formed by a water dragon.
Nameless and the others have been traveling in the cart for two weeks, and it was a welcomed, uneventful trip so far. The academy students practiced their craft whenever they stopped to rest. Elora and Karl spent some added time sparring with Nameless. The enchanter was improving with the Dane axe, while Elora’s swordsmanship skills were returning to their original levels. Zel scoffed at them, wasting precious time on “barbaric practices.” On one such stop, Karl attempted the mana infusion ritual with some success, and Nameless’s armor received a small boost in magic.
ARMOR MAGIC REMAINING: 42.75%
QUEST: SAVE THE GIFTED ONE
YOU ARE NEARING THE GIFTED ONE! BUT DO NOT RELENT! OTHERS ARE ALSO SEARCHING FOR THE GIFTED ONE!
Nameless shrugged his armored shoulders at the message. They appeared less often and with less force. The knight was curious about that, and he was starting to recall more and more about his past lives with each day. The fog was clearing up in his mind, but much of it was still obscured.
“This place seems familiar to me,” he said more to himself than to his companions.
“You did conquer it for the Imperium nearly two hundred years ago,” Elora responded.
“Aye, the legends say you first aided the Dwarves against the Rock Trolls, and the monsters were pushed down into the River Plains. History has it, the Imperium decided to liberate the plains and the people here by conquering them,” Karl added.
“I’m sorry,” Nameless said with a bow of his head.
“Why?” Laughed Karl. “My parents were not even born then! It had nothing to do with me. If anything, it allowed my parents to leave the River Plains to live in the Imperium where I was able to get an education.”
“Speaking of liberation looks like we are needed again,” Zel said and pointed with a thin pale finger.
Ahead in the distance, they could see smoke rising from a town. The familiar black smoke of homes being burned to the ground. The familiar herald of war.
ARMOR MAGIC REMAINING: 42.75%
QUEST: SAVE THE GIFTED ONE
YOU ARE NEARING THE GIFTED ONE! BUT DO NOT RELENT! OTHERS ARE ALSO SEARCHING FOR THE GIFTED ONE!
The message flared painfully, and Nameless gripped his head.
“Are you alright?” Asked Elora.
“Yes, I’m fine,” the knight answered.
“Is the Gifted One here?” Karl said.
“I don’t know, but this fight is somehow related,” Nameless replied.
“Ah, a perfect opportunity to showcase the benefits of necromancy,” Zel said while rubbing their hands.
Elora rolled her eyes and asked, “what’s the plan?”
“This town is called Rolling Hills, home to primary halflings. They live in burrows dug into the hillsides. Should we move closer to get more information,” Karl suggested, and Nameless nodded in agreement.
The large town sat alongside the river with squat stone and wood buildings, some of which were on fire. As Karl had stated, dotting the landscape around the town were small gardens just outside of small doors embedded into the hills. Screams carried along the winds with the clamor of fighting. A large ship could be seen docked at the wooden.
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“River pirates,” Elora stated.
“I doubt the Gifted One is with the pirates. So we help the town,” Karl said while hefting the rune-etched Dane axe. The weapon glowed red from the additional enchantments the Ooraki added from Goodewin’s book.
Elora’s weapons crackled faintly with electrical energy. Karl had made good use of their breaks, but they were nearly out of mana crystals. Nameless also gripped his midnight-colored Blade of the Void.
“Oh, I see. We are doing a show. Very well, I can participate. You too, Ghoul One,” Zel ordered.
Flames sprouted from the palms of Zel’s hands, and Ghoul One removed its hood to hiss menacingly while barring sharp teeth.
“We go in as a team like we have practiced these past few weeks,” Nameless said.
The others nodded.
ROLLING HILLS
The pirate Sevren pointed his heavy crossbow to the ground, where he stepped on the attached iron ring. With two hands, he pulled the cord back toward his chest, where it clicked loudly into place. His thick forearms ached from a day of fighting and loading the heavy-range weapon. To his side, Sevren’s pirate colleagues fired off their heavy weapons and ended lives. Sevren flinched as a small metal ball thudded into the wooden beam near his head. Blasted halflings and their slings, he thought to himself as he raised his weapon to look for a target. Preferably the one that shot at him.
Sevren was a few blocks away from the pirate ship. He and his crew had cleared this part of the town and steadily moved deeper. Smoke filled the air as the pirates ahead of him, armed with swords, maces, axes, and shields, set the homes on fire and killed their defenders. Sevren and the other crossbowmen shot to kill the slingers that hid amongst the low rooftops. Then something strange happened as a wall of pure darkness materialized in front of the advancing pirates. The armed goons retreated with uncertainty from the inky black. Sevren and the other crossbowmen readied their weapons and squinted their eyes for new threats. Then they heard howling.
Bursting from the black were a half dozen gnarled figures with sharp claws and wide mouths filled with razor teeth. The pirates stumbled as they attempted to flee from the loping monsters. Something didn’t seem right to Sevren. The sounds of the creatures were off, and their appearance did not make sense.
“Hold!” He commanded, but it was too late.
His fellow crossbowmen fired their weapons, and the advancing pirates’ line was broken as they stumbled in fear from the new threat. Sevren’s suspicions were confirmed,
“They are bloody fake! Keep moving forward!” He roared as several of the ghoulish illusions flickered and disappeared when struck.
One was real, however, and it tore into a poor pirate. Sevren readied to take aim when the wall of darkness faded away, revealing the streets beyond and a large Black Knight wielding an even darker sword.
“What the devil?” Cursed Sevren.
The knight moved fast, in heavy jingling armor, he twirled his blade with deadly grace. Four armed pirates fell to the sword in mere seconds, and the knight kept moving. Three more pirates rushed with maces and axes to attack the armored warrior. The knight dodged an axe blow, shouldered a second pirate to the floor, and deflected the third attack while impaling the unfortunate assailant. The two remaining pirates scrambled to strike back with vicious determination. Sevren, momentarily awestruck, watched as the knight skillfully maneuvered his longsword in between weapon and shield to slice the remaining pirates and spray their blood into the air.
All around Sevren, his pirates were falling to a barrage of metal balls from the slingers. Others were screaming as magical flame exploded into them.
“Fools! Stop gawking and start firing!” He commanded his fellow crossbowmen.
The pirates quickly began reloading, but their morale broke when a ghoul savagely pounced on one of them. The remaining crossbowmen dropped their range weapons to draw long knives to help their colleague, but a few fled.
“Cowards!” Sevren cried.
He saw the Black Knight dispatch another pair of pirates. If he could take out the armored warrior, that would turn the tide of battle back to their favor, Sevren thought. He raised his heavy crossbow, steadied his breath, and pulled the trigger. Sevren was a good shot, arguably the best in the River Plains, and he grinned as the bolt struck true into the knight’s head. There was a cheer as the remaining pirates began to regroup, but it was short-lived as the knight steadied himself to remove the bolt, purple ooze poured out of the hole to dissipate into the air, and the metal of the great helm folded back into place covering the hole.
“Blasted devilish magic!” Sevren cursed but then saw that the fight was lost.
Seeing the tide of battle was turning, the halfling slingers returned in full force and peppered the pirates with their deadly metal spheres. More pirates fell to an elf maiden and a muscular Ooraki, both wielding weapons that crackled with magical energy. Sevren scowled.
“Retreat!” He barked.
The remaining pirates fled back to their ship. Sevren ran with them and wondered which was worse: his queen's wrath or remaining with the devil knight?