The Choir is the means by which divine, nature, or celestial unaffiliated entities are able to communicate with mortal minds. Some describe it as a real and actual song, though the residents of Hjemland would know it simply as 'prayer'. That dull feeling of warmth given by faith, their gods don't speak to them so directly anymore. Only to the chosen few, and those are rare in the modern era.

There are some scholars who believe The Choir as a conduit by which one is able to reach beyond and grasp at energy unfathomable to human beings. Others, that it is the whispered chittering of lunatics, or perhaps even malicious fog entities attempting to subvert their sanity. Every Choir heard by mortal beings is unique, as are the conduits that might connect a celestial to a biological life form. It's the link by which paladins and other faith militant achieve their powers, though as we all know – not all the faithful are brave knights and selfless heroes. Most of them aren't, in my opinion.

Currently, in the deeper recesses of the earth, a new Choir has awoken, sages go mad, bleeding eyes and gnashing teeth. It's coming. That's all they'll whisper before biting off their tongues or throwing themselves from the southern monasteries. Yearning for the sweet release, anything to get that infernal buzzing out of their heads.

I too can hear it, only barely, and as for a source... It's everywhere.

The gods have taken notice, and the Sunhammer has made no moves against it. All across the world, monsters are becoming a rarer sight. Historically large conclaves of creatures receding away into the deep dark – an entire city of kobolds on the western shores vanishing overnight. The cults of Ejessi, too, the Red Hand and all manner of covens have been found slaughtered, torn to pieces, or simply from their customary haunts.

Where are they all going?

Primus Octavian has his concerns, but there are pieces moving in the shadows. I believe the Watchers want to stomp this new threat out – but they can't find it either. The wyrms are waking again, Ryker has reported leviathan sightings far closer to the coast than they should be. Ashkaari lands have shut their borders down more viciously than ever, no longer allowed even Saorsan's to enter their domain. They must know something. The Guardians refuse to answer my questions, The Lady in White going so far as to threaten my life if I keep pushing. While I'm sure I could handle her personally... I've never been an enemy to the beasts regardless, they've always done right by us, that is a hypothetical that will never come to pass.

I feel a cold war brewing that I will almost certainly be thrust into, the Sentinels, Daoists, Paths, all of these hidden factions rousing themselves in anticipation. Some of them... Are helping it along. Hiding it from the others, perhaps even nurturing it.

What does it mean?

Is this the apocalypse that lunatic Hastur has been rambling on about for the last 2 decades?

Maybe this world needs one. I suppose I don't really care, maybe they'll finally let me die, you have no idea how tired I become. Each passing year, and yet still I am not allowed for real rest as humans might feel it.

I've never been much for prophecy, but I believe this to be my purpose. I'm going to find this Choir, wherever it is, and see how real it is for myself.

- An except from the journal of the Sword Saint, Lucian Pelegir

Ì̴̥̙̈́ ̸̰̠̔̋S̴̡̛̬̻̍͑Ȩ̴͉͙͗͘͘͘ͅE̴̖̱̫̖͛̿ ̶͈̇̓̕͘Y̵̘͔̮̾O̶̡̢͙̤͑͂̌̈U̵͎͛͐͜

–

She felt warm, bundled up in a swath of blankets. Autumn was rapidly approaching and the air come south of the mountains had a chill to it before the sun had warmed the dark stone. Lina groaned, feeling the budding migraine hammering at her skull. Like a mouth full of fur, she didn't want anything more more than to spit before drinking a veritable lakes worth of water.

Shit! She thought, eyelids flying open. Struggling against the weight only to realized that she was tied down and trussed like a hog. The last thing she remembered...

“Oi, old man.” The face of a young boy hovered over her own with a scowl on his lips that contained more bitterness than most adults she'd met. He had pretty eyes, shaggy and unkempt hair, and pinch-able cheeks. “Girlfriends awake.”

“I'm not old.” Tyr replied with an exasperated sigh. “I'm in my early twenties, young man.”

“You got white hair just like granddad had. And you're a mean one like knobby Oliver, too.”

“Welcome to the land of the living.” Tyr said, approaching slowly. Lina watched him coming with a quivering lip, he had a long bloody knife in his hand, fresh from the corpse of a fat, skinned pig. Its ribs splayed out and laying behind him, adding to the general foulness of the ambience as he licked the fingers of his free hand of the blood on it...

“Get away from me, demon!” She shouted, frantically working at her bonds, but they held fast. Whoever had done this tying had done an impeccable job. Worthy of a slaver. “I'm a chosen of Nyx, goddess of waters pure! Don't you dare lay your hands on me!”

Tyr frowned, raising his eyebrows tiredly before bringing the knife to her neck and slitting. Lina waited for death, one that wouldn't come. Only belatedly realizing he was working at the cords wrapping her with efficient movements. Almost too well practiced with it. “We've never seen eye to eye, you and I. We won't, either, I doubt it. I've a distaste for the godly, but you are part of my family. Sorry about the bonds, but you started to cast spells in your sleep and the kid needs his rest. He's been through a lot.”

“I told you I'd keep watch, but you treat me like a child!” The 'child' protested. “I'm a man, I've even served with the army!”

“Of course you are, Farron. A big, dangerous man, all strong and impressive.” Tyr gave him a thin smile. “But we all need rest sometimes.”

“You don't!” Farron said. “You haven't slept in over a week!”

“I haven't slept in two months.” Tyr replied with an impressively empty intonation to his voice. “But I'm not a human, kid. One day, you'll come to see that. Just like everyone else, I am an ancient terror of the void come here to devour the impure and build the greatest harem of all time. Takes more than a man to wrangle up a half orc with a fat ass, trust me.”

“You're right.” Farron harrumphed. “You're not a man, you're an old piece of shit!”

“Watch your language, little brother.” Tyr chided, and the boy blushed angrily at that – but he listened. Whatever their relationship was, it was as complex and confusing as Tyr was himself. Everything about him left Lina in a constant state of disconnection.

“What...?” Lina cleared her throat as Tyr untied her and left her about her own devices. Pulling herself from the blankets to be met with the moist snout of Okami, his long tongue covering her face in saliva. “What's going on here? You have much to explain, or we can continue where we left off – and I promise I'm not so easy an opponent when I'm sober!”

“I've been tracking those men you met with at the wayside for days now. A shame, too, because some of them got away. I failed. Again. But at this point I'm just saying that not out of honest self-pity but rather because my vulnerability makes people drop their guard. And perhaps I've been wondering what you've been keeping under that cuirass of yours.” Tyr said with a flat face, returning to the preparation of what must have been their breakfast. Skillfully plucking pieces of meat off a cast iron skillet and casting some sort of spell on them. Several that Lina recognized, actually. Purity, cleansing, and a fire spell for ambient temperature. Like an edited version of those that enchanters used in cold climates. “Here.”

Her gave her a milky looking potion, opaque and cloudy, stoppered in a long cylindrical flask. Lina accepted it, but didn't drink, eyeing it warily.

“It'll get rid of the hangover. A friend of mine invented it, or I should say – perfected it. Blister root, frostflower extract, and some lemon for flavor, that's what she said...” Tyr frowned again. “You know, I never expected you to behave like that. You very obviously recognized me, right?”

Lina chugged the potion and smacked her lips. It was surprisingly good, but incredibly sour, but she couldn't miss the wave of relief as her headache vanished and her sore limbs were filled with vitality. “Oi, this is quite good. But in any case!” Back on track, she needed to know, wanted to know. What would compel a man... Especially a so-called friend! “I'm not some sow in heat you can take when you like! Whether we were members of the same team, even friends, that at the very least was unacceptable. But you'll tell me why you killed those men, or I'll show you what I'm really made of! Prince or primus, it does not give you a right to force yourself on me!”

“...What the hell are you talking about?” Tyr squinted, looking up at her in confusion.

Farron stepped forward and craned his neck up at her in a 'heroes stance'. “Maybe she's sick in the head like big brother cannibal?”

“You call him big brother!?” Tyr guffawed, clearly offended. “He was at least twice my age!”

“Can we get back on topic!” Lina shouted angrily. “You tried to... Take me. I know it, we both know it, throwing yourself on me like some berserker husband after a battle.”

“I know what fuckin' is, grandma.” Farron frowned, lips twitching in fright as Tyr gave him a fearsome look.

“She has black hair!” Tyr cried. “As black as night! You know what...? Never mind.” He shook his head in resignation, something flashing in the boys eyes as if he'd won some great victory. Lina was caught off guard by the side dialogue.

Tyr became... Odd, when he was around children. Playful, protective, brotherly. Maybe even fatherly. He was a man that would cave in a skull and butcher another without a second thought, but the kids... Was it chivalry? Or some darker predilection? Lina... Wasn't sure if she wanted to know - but she doubted the latter in the traditional sense. Perhaps it had something to do with children being easily molded into flunkies like the rest of the thugs he consorted with.

“I see where you're coming from.” Tyr said, calming, hardening as always did when he looked at a person he saw as an adult. But it wasn't the kind of respect adults craved, being the focus of those deep blue eyes was feeling like a pig ripe for slaughter, and Lina shivered – forgetting her anger entirely.

“Those men were rapers and murderers. They wiped out three villages, including what was left of the... Big man's.” Farron smiled, smug at the correction, though he did not interrupt, so as to let Tyr continue. “They were after gold, women, or provisions. I'm not sure, and I don't care, I smelled them on the corpses and so did Okami. So I hunted them, waiting to find their hiding hole. They would have taken you, killed you, likely. The plan was to bait out their lookouts, and we did for the most part, but they didn't aim for just me. So I threw myself on you. I am sorry, I did not mean to embarrass you like that – and when you rushed into that stable all in a panic, with my lungs full of water, I threw you out for obvious reasons, before you were trampled by a damn horse. I can heal, but you cannot. I don't like you, we are not friends, but you will always be my family. My pack.” Tyr said, as if any of this made sense.

“This is true?” She looked to the boy in askance, and he nodded.

“They came looking for our winter stores and when they didn't find anything of value, they killed us all.” Farron replied calmly. Tried to. He was a tough little boy, a strong man perhaps – Lina could see that. But she could also see the soft heart that wanted to weep over it, his twitching lips and lost eyes. A kind of humanity to him that relaxed her in the situation. Tyr had little of it that she could find, and he was hard to talk to regardless. “Except for me. They beat me up and left me for the crows, when big... Old man came and helped me. But he quite obviously didn't try to rape you, lady. You're cute, but have you seen his wives...?”

Lina slammed into the ground on one knee, hand over her heart. In the process, throwing the plate she'd been offered and forcing Tyr to swan dive into the ground in an attempt to catch the delicious bacon. Notably, he failed. “Prince Tyr... No! Great Primus! I had no idea that I had become an impediment in your path of gallantry and valor. Allow me to repay this debt with my life, body, and mind as you see fit.”

“Please.” Tyr groaned uncomfortably. “Female companions are valuable to me, but I'm really not interested in another wife. You're not my type, anyways. 'Great Primus', though... Hmm, how about that. I really am the best, aren't I?”

"The greatest of all two-legs." Okami make a snuffling noise that must've been a laugh to his species. "The most handsome and impressive of them all."

Lina blushed, clearly outraged. “I made no such offer, and I don't fancy you in the slightest either! That is a knights oath as a companion in battle!”

“Thank the gods...” Tyr sighed. “Denied, though. I've got your back but I'll be traveling alone, you can take the lad with you, he doesn't listen to me worth a damn. I need to get him into the city where he'll be safe.”

“She is very pretty.” Farron observed. “Are you sure? Westerners have strong children, that's what grandpa always said. He said the western ladies were all nice and tigh--”

Tyr swatted him in the back of the head before he could continue. Kid had a mouth on him... Always had, though.

Lina ignored it, in any case. Recovering her composure and slumping down, what an odd turn of events this had all become. “And why? How can you say you do not like me, and then swear to protect me? Are we not friends? You have a strange view of the world, Tyr Faeron.”

“Maybe we are.” Tyr shrugged. “I realized some time ago that I was unfair in my behavior to you. You did well in the tournament, even if nobody sings your praise because of how all the fights turned out, and I think you'd have stood a decent shot in the individuals. I guess if you want to, we can get married.”

“...”

“...”

“The tournament was a joke.” Lina asserted, rising to her feet and approaching him. “I am well aware of what happened, what my father and the others did. I'm sorry. And again, I don't want to marry you...”

“Mmm... You drive a hard bargain, but I will eventually woo you into my perfectly shaped arms.” Tyr snorted. There was another in their midst, and he knew not how extensive Lina's knowledge was in the first place. These 'westerners' knew of spira on a cultural level but remained self quarantined, wise to the fact. He was astonished that nobody had come to notice the fact that the primus' had been dampening the magic in the arena with spira through combined effort. Granted, it had taken Tyr weeks of consideration to come to that conclusion.

All of the mages had appeared so weak in their matches against him. Making Daito an easy scapegoat, considering he was publicly listed as a wardmaster and bardic mage. Not to mention Valkan who was Anu, something few people properly understood. All to make Tyr look good, or to challenge him, the latter being more likely. But that pressure had apparently disappeared in the last round, and the Lyran team had been wiped out in short order.

“Thank you, Tyr. For...” Lina frowned, blushing slightly. “I had no idea those men would stoop to such lows. I didn't see, I'd been drinking.”

“Some men feel a rush doing these things, the collapse brought out the worst in a lot of them.” Tyr said calmly. “It's not your fault that you were caught unawares in what should have been a safe place. Half of the rangers in this gods forsaken country are under the coin of adventurers. But even if they resisted, they'd be slaughtered. That's the problem in letting your identifying martial deterrent exist as a pseudo paramilitary force.”

“In that case.” Lina graciously accepted a new plate of meats and vegetables. An omelet with a slab of charred pork and some rice and greens to balance the meal. It was splendidly done, she had no idea that Tyr had an interest for anything but hitting things. Whether it be hot metal or the faces of the people he encountered. “I will break fast with you, and take my leave.”

“Actually.” Tyr corrected, looking at her for the first time with a bit of equity in his glance. No longer glaring. “I need your help with something, and you'll do it because we're special friends and future lovers. Right?”

“...No. Can you stop saying that?” Lina tried to wrap her head around his assertion, one that he'd made before, that she was in any way attracted to a psychotic serial killer. Perhaps he was right to kill those men back at the waystation, it was the way he did it. The fact that everything he said, in that tone of voice - was a lie. An act. She'd be willing to call them friends, but she wasn't sure if she'd ever trust him any more than that, and he terrified her. As he should terrify anyone, and yet here he was... Taking care of a young boy in the sort of way an uncle might. Showing deep concern, but clearly not worried in the slightest about allowing Farron to watch as Tyr butchered a group of men...?

“Well, you'll stay regardless.” Tyr shrugged in the most pompous and irritating way possible. “Or I'll kill you. You get to choose.”

"You'll... Kill me?" Lina raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You'll force me to stay by your side with a threat of death as the alternative? What is wrong with you?"

"I am deeply, irrevocably in love with you. Lina... Of... What the hell is your last name?"

"Lina of House Kamari. My mother's house..."

"Indeed, Lina of House Kamari. Please marry me, please ma'am, from the bottom of my heart - do me the favor of showing me your boobies."

"I'm leaving." Lina scowled. "That is not only crude, it is offensive and sexist. You've displayed many faults, but never did I suspect you for a misogynist."

"I'll kill you if you leave." Tyr grunted in amusement. "I'm very dangerous, after all, the strongest and most handsome primus."

"No, you won't. And the only thing you're the best at is getting on my damn nerves."