Within a secret location, barricaded with thick walls littered with runes, Aria expressed her displeasure by slamming down on the round table.

Twelve seats were around, but only five were filled - four divisions were present. Venture; Aria - the handling and assigning of jobs, Intelligence; Trix; a goblin - assigned to gather information about the jobs and threats to the Guild, Politics; Delaris; a human - charged with the handling of political maneuvers and pressures, both outside and within, Craft; Fren; a human - managing the craftsman, works, and the Guild arsenal, and Waric, a dwarf - the Vice-Guild Leader.

“Two Ogres were found across the river, having traces of Ixir, with the armor and tags of some of our lost adventures,” Aria exclaimed.

“What would you have us do? The Branch Leader is going with a few adventures to investigate that field anyway.” Fren commented.

“But we are ignoring the main issue, Why are Ogres this far north in the Wilken Woodland? And were they together, because the only time we’ve know this behavior is when they are under subservience of something else!” Aria pronounced the problem.

“It’s not like we can do anything,” Trix said half-heartedly. “There are enough eyes on us as it is and no new information is coming through the bought silence and the Third Hand… Any movement on Nobility?”

Delaris shook her head, “The Marquess family hasn’t been to the gathering or hosted any parties, as two of the six founding houses have confined themselves to their estates. They are saying that they don’t feel well enough to host or receive guests, but I guess you can tell well enough what they are saying.”

“Sounds exactly like a conspiracy if I have my information right,” Trix crossed her arms as she leaned back in her chair.

Silence filled the room, as unease dwelled with the few present.

Waric huffed, “What is there left? Have the Temples known anything?”

“The few Templars have delved to their Santuraties.” A voice came through the room, and as Trix and Delaris looked around in unease, “The Whispers have been bought and Token is shifting their resources out.”

Waric leaned back in his chair as he lost himself, Trix spoke out. “What is even the point of my division when I can’t go into stuff like that?”

Waric eyed, “We are not in charge of Espionage, if word got out as much of what you do with the underground and infiltrating the temples there will blades clashing in the streets.”

Aria, “Then what of it all? Are we going to do anything about that, it seems that only some know what is coming yet here we are, knowing nothing.”

Waric shook his head, “We will reinforce as much as we can for the oncoming quake. Increase security for our vaults and weapons, and run a sweep through every one of our workers - I will not have any spies try to take hold right now.”

Aria gaged a smile, “Then, are we going to initiate a Quest?”

Waric gave a stern look, “No, but if this is as big as we think then have it ready to post. Though what about those adventurers that you had been working on.”

“...A few of them chose to come off the assignment after finding nothing, but I have one on standby and the other brought us the Ogres today.”

“Standby? Can you get them on it with this?” Waric said in a heavy voice.

“No…? Maybe? He is strapped for coin right now.”

“Why would he need coin?”

“...Currently he needs some uncommon and rare ingredients for medicine.”

Drumming his fingers he thought, “Does this have to do with the Minerva incident.”

Grimacing, “Yes…”

Sighing, “Is he trusted enough to keep silence on this?”

“Well, he has a Pearl.” Aria replied as Waric raised a brow.

“Bring me his file, I will authorize the among that we can expend for a private Mission.” Waric got up to leave before asking, “Where is Minerva for this?”

“I think the Branch Leader asked of her to come along to the site.” Leaving the meeting adjourned.

***

It was early into the day, off to the shadows of the open field where the Ogres were found, six adventurers gathered. A group of four Fair-Obsidian adventurers circled the perimeter to gauge any threats, though from where there they started - two were left behind. Minerva stood by the Branch Leader; a bulky human man stood at one of the pinnacles of Fretic, a Fair-Bronze Adventurer.

“We’ll move once the others returned… found anything?” Fredrick asked as Minerva had a hand to the ground and the other, a wooden staff vines coiled at the top.

“There have been disturbances here, not just the Ixir traces of horrid powers are were released.”

“Mmmm…” Fredrick thought, a hand at the ready on his sword. “Once they return I think there is something we need to check.”

The four returned, having found nothing, as all made it through the field by the rocks.

“Move them.” Fredrick pointed, Minerva raised her staff and Aether.

Trees began to sprout and cradle the rocks into the air as they grew, most had nothing but one leading to a small hole into the darkness.

The six of them gathered around as Minerva was perplexed, “How’d you know?”

Fredrick smirked, “You might be older but I’ve been through too many mages, ruins, and arrogant crafters. Thinking their traps and hid aways is nothing new, you keep an open mind to the things when you're dealing with intelligent people.” He took out a torched light and threw it down a hole.

“Won’t that alert whoever’s down there?”

“Better to know your landing than not, besides I’ll head in first - if there is something down there that can take me out instantly then the city is doomed either way.”

Minerva frowned, “Great…”

Fredrick laughed, as he patted her back. “Don’t get distracted, expect anything, and never let your guard down.” Fredrick braced himself as he slowly glided down the hole as the four others followed suit, Minerva looked to the sky and sighed.

I don’t like this, not at all… Following her jump down the hole.

***

In the darkest depths of the winding maze of bones and old vestiges, the clinks of brushed chitin and razor-sharp appendages stood around a pulsing sack. Hanging by the shallow ceiling, it pulsed a translucent glow that shown upon the carcases bellow and the bugs army surrounding it all.

A shrouded figure came through holding a soft light, while the Wulu parted and clicked their mandibles at their arrival. The Scouts stood around the man as the lager ones stood only to show their scythe-like arms and sharp legs. The figure wasn’t bothered as it approached the sack, holding out a bottle of Ixir while the Air circled around, it carried the Ixir above the egg, pouring the contents over it.

It pulsed in joy as it went along and dripped to the floor underneath. Fury ignited in the Scouts as they charged to receive just a morsel of excess. Few got a taste as they climbed over the small pile of dead bugs, the scent rub off many as they began to tear apart their kin, blood and flesh poured to the ground as the bodies were eaten or taken away for the young to feed.

“Soon, you can be born. And your brethren shall be able to feed once again.” The figure receded, they left the brood to massacre their own as it was their way.

A whisper into the dark, “My young shall give another chance to the land and raise another hatchery.”

***

“Why do we play by the whims of these others?” A raspy voice asked in a dark room, playing with drink as it swirled in the wine glass.

“This is not our place, and we will be culled if our presence gets found before the right time.” A soft voice spoke while taking a sip of their own.

“Then how long do we have to wait- I can’t get a good drink anywhere.”

“You have been spoiled by your carer, besides Lady Yuris said no more than a year from the end of summer.” Finishing her glass and disappearing into the dark.

Grumbling at the lack of treatment, they turned in for the day and would keep watch on the city as it unfolded.

***

A dark temple morphed into the hollowed cavern, there were no lights but the stone itself gave off an eerie shine. Within the center, a spiral staircase descended further into the dark, leading to a configuration of hood figures dancing in a twisting motion in front of a demonic figure. A Demonic figure adorned a great smile, dressed in little - but elegant wares as twelve long fingers on each twisted out. Adorned with a necklace of hands, he would collect the dues of traitors and prey - The Demon Raulw’qad.

The few not parting held three victims, beggers that no one would care gone - tied and muffled. As they carried them in front of the statue. They held down their squirming bodies, taking out knives to cut off their hands and feet. Their screams bore through their gags, and music to the parading madness as they suffered in pain to bleed out to death.

The pairs were laid as an offering just up to the statue, all together they began a chant as a swirl of darkness upon the offering. A horrific hand came out of the darkness, taking the gift - leaving a wave of power that filled the people. Once all was quiet, there was a new memory - a reward of knowledge left.

A hooded figure in an ornamental robe took to stand in front of the statue, “My brethren we have received our revelation. A gift of what would come, a gift receive from our lord - our savior.” In a bellowing voice, “Prepare to storm the damned liars above and take their hands and feet so they may pay, grovel before the one that saved us when they would not.”

In an excited and angry uproar of pleasure of knowing, they would gain a chance to seek vengeance and do good for their lives that they could not before.

A new time was coming, their time, the rightful time of justice due.