-[Chapter 019]-

An elven sentry observed the ongoing battle for the Sea Dragon’s Roost. From his post atop of the building he could hear the sounds of gunfire raging across the span of several city blocks in front of him. The attackers seemed to have gained the upper hand as many flags had been raised along the line to signal the progress of their advance. For now the old Admiral’s ships still remained out of their reach, but the sentry nodded with confidence as he wrote down his observations in a leather-bound note pad. An emblem of his crew—a white shield with a black chalice imposed over it—was sown onto his jacket, marking him as a member of the Iron Sentinels. They were an all-elf pirate crew that fancied themselves the cultured kind of pillagers.

Having taken his notes, the sentry put the notepad into his bag and was about to leave when a sharp gust of wind caught his attention. As he reached for his loaded rifle the man was greeted by a most unwelcome surprise.

A deathly sincere voice spoke to him words of warning that few would dare to dismiss. “You move, you die, pirate.”

Only now did the elf notice the tingle of a dagger’s point pressing into his lower back. The sentry froze in compliance with the demand.

“Put your hands behind your head and kneel,” the voice commanded.

“Do you know who you are messing with?” the elf asked. “The Iron Sentinels won’t tolerate any outside interference. When my fellow crewmembers find me—”

“They won’t,” the voice declared. The tip of the dagger pressed harder against his back and the elf was forced down onto his knees.

“My brothers will now relinquish all of your weapons,” the voice told the sentry. “Do not resist.”

The elf was surprised to find that two men, cloaked in black garbs, appeared next to him without so much as making a sound. They pilfered through his bag and clothes for documents and weapons, carried away his rifle and even found the little blade that he had tucked away into the sole of his boot.

Now thoroughly searched, the sentry was forced back up on his feet and turned around to face his enemy, only to find the true number of his captors to be a grand total of four. One to hold him at knife point, two to search him and the last one watching over the entire scene with an arrow notched in his bow, ready to fire at any poor sod unlucky enough to walk in on their encounter.

“Who are you people?” the sentry asked.

“You don’t need to know that,” the black clad ranger said. “Now, move towards the stairs. We will be watching you closely, so no sudden moves. Our arrows fly fast.”

“Who is your captain?” the sentry asked. “What crew do you belong to?”

The ranger kept silent.

Having received no reply, the sentry tried a different approach: intimidation. “You don’t want to mess with the Iron Sentinels,” he said. “This fight is a private matter between us and—”

The dagger wielding man placed his finger to the elf’s lips. “Shush,” he said. “Your fate will be decided in but a moment. If you want to say alive, I’d advise you to keep silent unless spoken to.”

The ranger flashed his blade across the man’s face. “Got that? Good. Now, follow me downstairs or suffer the consequences.”

The sentry complied and followed the rangers towards the stairs. As they made their way down, he took comfort in the thought that his fellow sailors were waiting in ambush in the surrounding buildings. Iron Sentinels were proficient fighters and tacticians. They never sent out scouts without a security detachment. He figured that the strange men in black had simply chanced upon him first, bypassing the others down below. They had, after all, appeared out of nowhere, so they must have been traveling across the rooftops. The other Sentinels might have simply missed them.

“You know,” the elf said with an air of arrogance about him, “I would be willing to look the other way if you leave now. Whatever master you serve surely does not seek an enemy in the Iron Sentinels. We’re kind off a big deal around Port Malus.”

“Is that so?” the man holding the knife to his back answered. “Who’s your captain?” he asked.

The sentry scoffed at the apparent ignorance of his captor. “The legendary Gelwin Iron Blood, of course! What? Did you arrive in the Nine yesterday?”

“No, just this morning, in fact,” the man answered. “What’s his power level?”

The sentry found the man’s question quizzical. “He’s well above fifty!” he declared. “Everyone’s heard of him!”

“Oh, so he’s a small fish…” the man answered. “Tell me, how is such a weak creature in command of a pirate crew anyway?”

The sentry was taken aback by the man’s complete disregard for the power of his commander. A power level of fifty was well above the average in Port Malus. Few creatures, in fact, could claim to be stronger than sixty. That was around the point where most legends began.

The black clad man delivered his final warning as they neared the exit. “Answer all of our questions in a timely manner and your life will be spared. Hesitate and—”

The elf was flippant in his response. “Yeah, yeah, you’ll kill me,” he said. “I got it.”

The sentry grinned as they stepped out into the street. He didn’t care for this ignorant ranger’s warnings. The elf figured that he had led these fools into a trap, but when he turned to look for his fellow sailors in the surrounding windows all he found were their lifeless corpses dangling from the ledges. Their throats neatly cut, the armored shapes of elves slumbered quietly upon the timbers. Blood streamed down the walls as their hearts beat their last, eyes still twitching in surprise of their sudden demise.

“As I said,” the black clad minion reiterated, “hesitate to provide us with the answers that we seek and you will die like the rest.”

A blood red paladin stepped out into the street and approached the captive. Her face was hidden behind her helmet, but he could feel the monstrous woman appraising him from afar. As she lifted the visor to converse with the captive, Scarlet’s pale expression was revealed to the terrified elf. The bastard sword that she carried in her right hand was drenched in blood.

“Lie to us,” Scarlet said, “and we will kill you slowly.” She flourished her sword and a lone drop of blood broke free from the weapon’s tip. It struck the horrified sentinel in the face, leaving a red stain.

As Scarlet approached her prey, the disparity in their power only grew more obvious. The proud Iron Sentinel measured barely tall enough to reach up to her shoulders. From her features to her aura, it was obvious that she was no simple kith woman, but a true monster I her own right.

“Piss us off,” Scarlet continued as she wiped the blood form the elf’s face with her gauntlet before tasting it, “and we will kill you and your precious captain both, in a manner so cruel that all of the Nine Hell’s will shudder at the mere description of it.”

Her warning delivered, the Red Paladin smiled and looked deep into the eyes of the sentry. “Let us begin with you explaining your purpose here,” she said. “Then we can discuss the finer points, such as your battle plan and who I should kill to make your adorable little band of pirates disperse.”

The elven sentry fell to his knees before the murderous woman and went on answering any and all questions that she asked of him. Throughout their conversation his terrified sight remained affixed to the corpses of his comrades. The manner in which they had been killed had left a strong impression on the elf and he was of no mind to seek a similar fate.

Having answered the last question the broken man was surprised to find that his enemies simply left him out in the street. Dumbstruck, he looked on as the black clad rangers advanced towards the sounds of battle. A band of red armor-clad warriors soon followed the rangers down the road. Their shields and swords at the ready, the knightly figures formed a defensive circle around two monsters—a giant, horned demon and succubus clad in black armor. The demon all but ignored his presence while the succubus seemed to relish at the sight of the broken man on his knees as she passed him by. Her expression was bright, but a wicked darkness lingered in here gaze.

The Red Paladin bowed to the demon and delivered her report. “Lord Doom,” she began, “I believe we should move to aid the besieged Admiral posthaste. He is facing an attack from two crews at once with a dash of mercenaries added for good measure. They might be outnumbering him as much as four to one.”

The hulking demon briefly turned his gaze upon the kneeling sentry and the elf found his limbs growing numb as he felt the frigid hand of death grasping his heart. But his worst fears were proven wrong once the beast dismissed him for what he was—a coward who had bargained away his loyalty in exchange for his life. Whatever motivations or values these strangers held, adherence to their promises seemed to be among them and today the elf was spared their wrath. He fell over and cuddled up against the wall of a nearby building, sobbing uncontrollably.

“What is it that they seek to accomplish with this assault?” Basil asked Scarlet.

“Full control over the Sea Dragon’s Roost,” she replied. “They are looking to oust Razazil from his position in Port Malus.”

“What is the composition of their forces?” Basil asked.

“Two pirate bands,” Scarlet answered. “The Iron Sentinels,” she said and nodded at the kneeling elf, “and some filthy orc outfit going by the name of Red Hands—a little over a thousand men between them with war-beasts, mages and artillery for support.

“The Admiral will not be able to hold on to the port for much longer against such overwhelming odds,” Scarlet concluded.

“Then we must pick up our pace,” Basil announced. “Since time is not on our side, we will assault Razazil’s enemies head on. Unless you spot some targets of interest, you have my permission to slay them all.”

The Red Paladin nodded. “I just hope that Schwartz can keep the Admiral alive until we arrive,” she remarked.

“Would you fail me on such a task?” Basil asked.

“Never,” Scarlet answered.

“Then you have answered your question,” the dungeon keeper said.

Basil then gestured for Scarlet to take the lead. Her shield maidens organized themselves into pairs and spread out into the adjacent streets to form a line of battle. The rangers of Schwartz took their positions on the rooftops to cover the advance of the paladins below.

The sound of canons firing up ahead signaled the final phase of the battle—the fight for the harbor and the ships moored therein. His enemies had overcome the outer lines of Razazil’s defenses and were now closing in on their prize.

Scarlet raised her sword and issued a battle cry: “Let there be blood—the Master commands it!” She then dashed off towards the sound of battle and the minions followed.