Night fell upon the Capital, and with it, came a thin delicate silvery blanket that had been cast over the region. The Imperial Palace and Noble’s districts, which existed at the top of all three mountains, were illuminated brilliantly by the many illumination stones that hung in lanterns across streets and shops. Stories were made, love was found, and love was lost. Deals were made in the lobbies of salons and shops, and schemes were carried out in upstairs rooms and deep within their homes.

Yet, for the rest of the Capital, night was a time for all the commons and serfs to scurry into their holes and abodes. Their streets were narrow, packed, and dark - unlike the open and illuminated streets of the upper district. Here, night was a time of danger, and thus, a time for doors to be locked, windows to be shuttered, and heads to be against their pillows. Pubs and taverns had closed less than an hour ago when there were enough candles in the windows to guide the weary people to their homes. Now, those candles were gone and only the darkness existed. Except for the Baysong Church.

The plaza, and the surrounding streets in a three-block parameter, were illuminated with oil lanterns. It also included a three-street parameter that led down to the docks. This area was patrolled with Templars, the church’s personal guard as the Baysong council did not wish to waste money to patrol this area. So, the church did it - and happily.

It was touted as ‘their gift to the people but the more observant, or politically in the know, citizens were aware that this was to protect the church’s operations. Most of the buildings within its protection were, in one form or another, a part of the church’s workings. Thus, it was in their best interest to protect themselves from sabotage and espionage. Even more so when the Emperor himself viewed them as a thorn in his side.

“Damn Head Priest wouldn’t even add a single copper to my wages,” An old man in rough linen clothes complained as he held a long stick with a hook in the end. A leather toolbag hung around his waist and a young teen followed suit. “Been here fer’ years, and the damn bastard can’t even show some compassion!”

“Well, sir, I think that means he wants you to retire. I heard you already make a gold piece a week.” The teen said with obvious annoyance.

“Tenure, me’ boy, tenure,” The old man chuckled. “I signed a contract with the church when no one wanted this job - says they gotta up me’ pay every year as well!”

“Sounds nice.” The teen grumbled.

“Oh, but it is! Just gotta light the lanterns every night and not miss a single one.” The old man said. “They can’t fire me unless I miss one three times in a month, and I ain’t ever miss one in ten years!”

“Heard that the priest wants to fire you,” The teen said.

“Ho ho, I know that very well. You’ll see soon enough, the clergy are slimy bastards the lot. But word out there is the Emperor is lookin’ for a reason to stick their heads on a pike - which means that they can’t fire me unless I actually break the contract. Hehe. Which means that the priest will have to keep upping my wages.”

“I thought you said he didn’t want to pay you anymore?” The teen asked.

As the two walked, they were oblivious to how the lanterns that illuminated the road to the church had gone out one by one behind them. Slowly, the darkness began to creep closer and closer each step. Figures clad in black were briefly illuminated just before they capped the lantern’s vents, and snuffed out their flames.

“I asked for an early raise,” The old man spat on the road. “Grandkid on the way. Gonna help out my daughter and get that kid the good stuff. Ya’ know? Nice wooden toys. Them chew toys. Good food. All that stuff I couldn’t give my daughter when I was a youngin’ starting here.”

“Didn’t take you for a softie, old man.” The teen said as he nodded. “Always thought you were a sleaze-bag.”

“Ho ho ho,” The old man slapped his knee. “I'm arse through and through, but I never treated my family wrong. You will learn later on that you gotta have a woman at your back, or a man, I ain’t gonna question what ya’ like, but whatever you do, ya gotta stay together. The world is crazy, and --”

The old man tittered forward before he fell face-first into the dirt road, with an arrow through the back of his skull. The teen looked down at the man as blood began to pour out into the dirt.

“H-He--” Another arrow slammed into the side of the teen’s head. He too, fell into the dirt before the lantern above him was promptly snuffed out and darkness swallowed him.

Mai stared at the two in silence from down the street. Her father lowered his longbow and moved forward as if he were on a hunt. She felt her heartache for the two as she had listened to the conversation. They had killed a good man. A man who wanted to provide for his family. A young boy who’d just begun his life. Two flames had been snuffed out, all because they would have given away their operation, and prisoners were not something they could afford to take.

Beastmen had keen eyes that could see in the dark with limited light. Tonight had just enough light that she could see more of their shocked faces - the blood that trickled from their warm lifeless bodies. Not as good as daylight but enough light that she could feel a little queasy. They could have avoided killing these two men. Just workers who’d be about their jobs.

Figures moved around her like deadly phantoms as more and more lanterns were snuffed out. The warriors were quiet as mice and nimble as cats but fierce like the wolves they were.

The hunt had commenced with the first kills of the night.

Light after light around the church had been snuffed out, with only a few flames that flicked behind glass panels. Yet, even then, they flicked pitifully as if the fire itself knew death lingered just inches from it. Its only reason to still flickered like a dog with its tail between its legs was that the reapers that rustled in the darkness beyond would not do so because it would have meant making a sound. And that sound would only bring death inconvenience. Yes… Only the inconvenience of their presence being discovered before they struck kept those flames alit.

That was until light erupted across a loosely cobbled street on the left side of the church. Laughter spilled out, along with the rustle of armor, as a patrol of Templars exited the church for their first patrol of the night. More voices echoed out from deeper within, which told the lurking beastmen warriors that there were more Templars within that section of the building. It was expected, though it helped to have any information on movements.

It would not matter in the end though, as among the area, the warriors - now assassins - laid in wait within the darkness that surrounded the church.

The light disappeared.

“Hey, what happened to all the lights?” One templar said.

“Did that old man finally forget to get up and light the lanterns? Buahaha!” Another said.

“The big hat is going to be happy tomorrow,” Another templar sighed. “That old man has been on his shit-list for two years already. I heard he got a good salary for barely doing any work.”

“Mhm, mainly just had to walk around and light the lanterns. He’s even been training his replacement for a year and a half. The head priest has been trying to find fault with him ever since. Heard the new boy only gets a fifth of what that old---” The second knight spoke up but was caught off as the templar at the front of the group was sent backward into them.

“What the fuck---!”

“The hell--!”

A flash of blinding light snapped into existence and sapped their vision for a few moments. It was gone as quick as it came, replaced by the cloaked beastmen who descended upon them like starved carrions. They were unable to utter words as the beastmen struck for their heads with inhumane precision and strength. Some twisted their heads, a few pieced their targets’ throats with stiletto knives, and a few - like the chief - took out the ones closest to the door they exited with arrows.

In a matter of moments, the entire patrol had their lives snuffed out like the lanterns before.

“How many?” Mai asked as she stepped out an alley with her father and two other bowmen.

“There were seven, High Priestess.” One warrior, who appeared to be the leader of that particular strike team, knelt before Mai. “We’re searching for keys as we --”

Another warrior knelt beside the warrior and presented a key to Mai.

Mai nodded, though it must have been hard to see as they were in a section that even the trace moonlight found difficult to filter into. “See if the key works, if not, just use force. I doubt the Baysong warded or reinforced their door. Judging by how the templars and the two before reacted, it seems they never expected someone to actually go against them.”

“As the High Priestess commands,” Both the warriors answered, got up, and moved with the rest of their group to the doorway.

Mai looked to her father for approval, which was given with a nod.

“Trust your heart, Mai.” Her father said, his voice deep and stern. “Once inside, your words will be the difference between death and success. Keep that in mind, and do not look to affirmation.”

She nodded back with less enthusiasm.

“Be the tree that stands against the wind, child. Tonight is the final test - as I said, its between life or death.” He stated before he followed the group.

Rock, named by his father and the tribe of their chief, stared at the large double wooden doors and grand arches that made up the front of the church. He grunted with disdain as he wiped his blade clean of blood on the templar’s tabard. Red smeared across the snow-white fabric, stitched with the rising golden sun. The knight’s head had been cleanly parted from his neck, and Rock had crouched beside him to check for a key.

There was none and so he motioned for one of his guards to try the door. It opened with resistance. He smiled with glee. It was surprising how stupid these heretics could be, and just when he thought they’d hit a new low, here they were surprising him once again. What was the point of a door with a guard if one did not lock the said door? Would it not have been easier to just drape some cloth over the doorway like their tribe did and most of Haven. Doors cost money and resources, thus, unless it was to be locked, there was no point to have it.

It was not a thought that seemed prevalent throughout the Kingdom and the Empire. He did not know about the elves nor the dwarves, but he hoped they were not as wasteful as the humans.

With a low whistle, the rest of their team moved forward and slipped into what the humans referred to as the ‘narthex’. It was a fancy word for their little lobby. It was poorly illuminated, as was the rest of the building. Fancy candle-lit chandeliers had been lowered enough to illuminate the middle aisle that ran down the ‘nave’ and up to the pedestal on a raised platform. A few oil lanterns illuminated portions of the side isles but not enough to be considered for security. It was most likely done as not to scare the clergy as they walked through was his guess.

The sound of a door handle followed by the squeal of a poorly oiled hinge and footsteps sent the warriors into the many shadows by the entrance. Sharp echoes of good boots rang out as someone entered into the nave. A yawn followed and then the person stopped just before the narthex.

“The door is open…?” A woman’s voice was heard as she muttered to herself. “Don’t tell me Utheral fell asleep.”

She let out an exasperated sigh and continued forward.

A hand reached out of the darkness as if it were a cobra strike and clamped down over her neck. She only managed to let out a pained grunt before her neck was snapped as two other hands came up from behind and twisted her head. Rock stepped out into the light and released the dead woman’s neck.

He looked down at the woman. She had been dressed in courtesan clothes

“They cannot even respect their own holy places,” Rock muttered.

He gestured for them to continue.

The group split into three columns and continued down all three aisles. Careful to be silent, the warriors reached the ‘crossing’. A few voices could be heard and each slipped into the pews where they crouched. They peaked out only to see a few priests that were in the middle of praying at the chapels on either wing. No one had faced their direction.

Quietly, the side aisle columns slipped into their respective wings as the middle column took control of the chorus area.

“Can I ---”

“Do you --”

A few priests responded when the warriors had gotten within striking distance. It was for not as they’d been quickly stabbed, beheaded, or some other order of quick-killed. Rock felt pride in his warriors as he stood at the foot of the church’s altar. It was a ‘cross’ that’d been emblazoned with the rising sun at the center. He touched it and found that it’d been made from metal. Its color was gold, and so he judged it to be either plated or solid gold. Given it was a small church, it must have been plated. He clicked his tongue.

“Wasteful,” He said.

“What are you--” A man’s voice broke out.

Rock responded by moving into a fighting stance. The man was dressed in lavish white clothes and appeared to be have been in the middle of adjusting his robes. He was stock still as he stared at the beastmen who’d been in all black. The human twitched and Rock charged at him.

“Intruders! Intruders! Intru--” A blade pierced through the man’s throat as he’d spun and managed to get back through the door.

“Shit.” Rock cursed as more voices echoed from deeper in, followed by the rattle of armor. “Go loud!”

With that, the warriors began stripped off their black foot coverings. They were just simple clothes that muffled their boots and quickly slipped into positions around the door, on the sides, or above where the architecture allowed them. Except for Rock, who took up a position across from the door to bait them across the altar. Within half a minute, several templars poured out the door, narrowly missing the dead priest’s body.

“Murder!” The first knight bellowed, his helm open-faced and his anger open for Rock to relish in.

“Come, filthy human!” Rock laughed.

The closest knight came at him with a short sword from the side that aimed for his torso. Rock stepped back and the blade passed him. The knight behind him attempted to step in to cover his comrade but the beastmen moved in too fast. He grabbed the first man’s sword arm and forced him to turn around by using his momentum against him. The other knight moved to the side with a few choice words to avoid hitting his friend as the beastmen used him as a momentary shield. The knights then began to encircle him but--

“Wrong move,” Rock said with a smile.

The two knights that went left of Rock were pushed down as the warriors took them from behind. One was dispatched with a heavy stop to the neck that ended with an audible crack. The other hadn’t been done in that easily as he’d quickly rolled away as he leaned into his fall. However, that meant it stopped his friends from responding to the attack as they had to move around the soldier to give him space.

Rock clicked his tongue in annoyance. Two of his warriors had who were about to strike at the right side ended up having to respond to the escapee as their original targets moved to respond to the first strike. Rock then swung his sword out at the closest knight who parried the strike but could not return the attack as one of the beastmen warriors leap forward with a thrust aimed for the throat. It missed and skipped of the man’s armored forearm as he smacked it aside.

With the distraction, Rock threw his sword at the other warrior. The target had been caught off guard and jerked to the side as the five-pound sword slapped into him, hitting his shoulder and head. He almost went down from that as he had no helmet to protect him. Unfortunately, that brief moment had been enough for the warrior he’d been engaged with to lop his head in two. Brains and blood painted the altar as he crashed into it.

Rock then reached under his cloak, unholstered a war hammer, a weapon with a wooden handle and metal head similar to a blacksmith hammer, and swung it at the head of the knight before. It missed as he saw it and ducked. The other warrior attempted another stab but missed and the knight managed to punch the warrior center on the face then grabbed his sword after dropping his own.

Rock felt delighted that there was also a good warrior among these pathetic humans. He would still die, but at least Rock would have fun killing him.

The knight then pivoted on his heels and slashed at Rock’s legs. It was a useless move considering beastmen were quicker, stronger, and he’d also been watching this man. He jumped over it effortlessly and landed as the man reset for a stab.

[We’ve entered the barracks. A larger force than expected, the alarm has been raised. Father requests you take the ‘Junction’ now if you haven’t.]

He’d expected some magical message to come sooner or later, but now? Here he thought he would have enjoyed a little fun. Rock was a warrior at heart, though he could do covert things as they’d originally planned, he preferred head-to-head fights like this and liked them drawn out so he could enjoy it. But his chief, and father, had given his order. Mai had just worded it nicely, being the more scholarly person in their family.

Rock kicked the man’s sword arm away with enough force to make him drop it. It skidded across the flagstone floor before disappearing underneath the pews. Then, he brought the hammer down on the man’s covered head. The metal caved in halfway and the man dropped instantly, and the remaining knights were finished off by the others. Just in time too as more shouts could be heard through the open doorway.

“Our presence is known now. Now we can be as loud as we want. Take the Junction!” Rock roared as ripped off his cloak. He was dressed head to toe in black clothing.

The junction was what their spy called the corridor that was the centermost artery in the building. It was the point where all the stairs converged. If you wanted to enter the left-wing, right-wing, back, or front from the other parts, it was said that you would have to go through the junction.

Clashing swords sounded throughout the hall as more blood was spilled. Several more knights had been caught off guard as they stepped off the stairs that led to the upper level of the church. They had not seen the black-clad beastmen in the hall as they quickly crossed the junction and into the stairway that led into the lower levels where the barracks was. The line had been cut in half as Rock smashed in one of the knight’s heads with his hammer with a charge. He knocked the dead man down where his body skidded a few feet due to the armor.

His fellow knights made the mistake of following Rock with their eyes. It’d given the following warriors precious seconds to follow up with their own attacks. It’d only taken several seconds for the tail end of that train of knights to be decimated. There’d been four in total, and the junction was theirs.

Rock could hear voices, mixed with the sound of fighting and spells being cast, deeper in and from above him. All of them were scared. Though, one voice, in particular, stood out easily since it was a screaming man. It was not out of fear but rage.

“Get those fucking bastards!” He screamed. “Show them that I am not to be trifled with! I am ---”

He paid it no more heed, given that he’d be a dead man soon. It was most likely that visiting priest. Pope? Bishop? Rock let go of the thoughts. That was for his sister. She’d know. Knowing was what she did. Rock fought because he was stronger than a Rock and as fast as an arrow. He was not dumb, just simple. He just loved fighting.

The fighting below begun to calm down as the rattle of armor began to sound from above. Rock smiled as did his warriors. Each was his long-time friends and comrades. They were battle junkies just like Rock. All of them smiled with glee.

“Archbishop,” Mai sighed as she heaved herself into the luxurious leather chair behind a large and ornate wooden desk. Like the church it resided in, it was rivaled that of a high noble’s office. A wall-to-wall bookshelf rested behind her. Of the few titles she managed to glean before she sat down, most were priceless texts or copies of those texts. Texts of histories and religion of course, but nonetheless of restricted and important texts that were said to have been transcribed by Helios the demi-god himself. Since beings of that kind never seemed to leave records of history themselves, these manuscripts were very much sought after despite being kept only by high-ranked church officials.

“Bitch,” The archbishop spat as he laid broken and bruised on the floor. He was a pudgy middle-aged man who’d gone bald on top. It rivaled that of polished armor. Rock stood behind him and planted the hell of his boot into the map’s left thigh. He let out a pained howl along with tears.

“Since our time is unfortunately short, I’ll cut to the chase,” Mai said. “Where’s the fragment?”

The man withered for a few seconds before Rock leaned down and gripped the man’s jaw to make him face his sister before he spoke. “Speak, before I start to use my hammer.”

“... I… I don’t know what you’re talking about…” The man said as he squirmed in pain.

And the man did squirm. Not only was he in pain, but he rolled in the blood of his bedwarmer, a barely-teen girl who’d been used as a shield by the archbishop. The very notion of it, in hindsight, was poorly thought out to Mai. To consider that they’d slaughter through his entire clergy to get up here, then to stop short because… He tried to use a young girl as a shield… It seemed that this man must not have been as smart as his station would suggest.

She’d been cut down before him and then he’d been beaten. Terrible, but Mai ignored the body for her own good.

“Archbishop, I can tell you that the only way you’re going to leave this building alive is if you give me the fragment you’ve come to retrieve. And I don’t have all night, so you want to live, I suggest you tell me within the next minute or two.” Mai said.

“I don’t know --” The man was cut off as Mai gestured to her brother.

His war hammer slammed down on the man’s right foot. It had been instantly crushed and partly exploded from its sudden introduction with the floor and the metal head. The man screamed in pain as he clawed at his shattered foot.

“Tell me, and this will end,” Mai said as she looked absently at the desk where several different papers had been neatly laid out. A quick scan told her that it was a report on this location’s inner workings, with the very last paper detailing some sort of expedition into some lost ruins too deep in the Empire. It was vague, but it did mention an ‘amber fragment with magical traces’. No doubt it was the piece her master had sent her to retrieve.

“You’ll never get away with this. You’re just small-time thugs!” The archbishop whimpered as he curled up.

Mai laughed at that. “Small-time…? My, that’s the first I’ve ever been called that. I never knew working for the Dragon of Haven, Morrigan, personally, made me a small-timer.”

The man slowly looked at the Mai now, this time, with fear. “M-M-Morrigan…?”

“Yes, Morrigan. I am her High Priestess, and she has sent me to retrieve the fragment your underlings seemed to have uncovered. Be as it may, she wants it back. Now.” Mai said.

“.... A-A-Advent of Saint Ula…” The archbishop said after what seemed to be minutes.

“And what is that?” Mai asked.

“...Book…” The man began to curl in as his body shook. “Pull it… It’s… It’s to… To the… Safe…”

Mai looked to her father, who stood off in the corner. He nodded and began to look through the shelving.

“Directly… Behind the desk… Head level…” The archbishop added. Most likely because he felt something else would get smashed if it’d taken longer.

The chieftain followed the man’s instructions and found the book within several seconds. It did not come free but instead, pulled halfway before it stopped and a metal click was heard. Then, the middle second of the shelf slid forward an inch. Her father then pulled it out the rest of the way and found it was on large half-moon hinges. Behind it was another bookshelf, this time with gold bars, gems, some books, and the amber fragment they came for. There were a few more things but that was the only thing that Mai was interested in was that fragment.

She got up from her seat and looked at it. Of course, she could feel the strange magical aura that came off it. Small but elegant. Clearly refined and most have belonged to something powerful. And of course, Mai had already been given the knowledge of what it belonged to, so it made sense that it felt this way. A little more prodigy of the aura revealed that it had a mysterious depth to it.

“Your cooperation has been appreciated,” Mai said. She pulled out the rest of the orb, where a large portion of it was missing, which corresponded with the fragment on the shelf. One thing Morrigan said she had to do when she found the fragment. She had to piece it together. Something about the magic resonance would merge the fragments together.

But something was odd. She felt her body became weightless as her fingers touched the fragment. A burning sensation connected from the orb to the fragment, tracing itself through her chest.

The world fell away.