“Meltonian King Edward ‘The Reaver’ Meltius initiated several harsh stabilising measures across the northern lands. In light of recent raids from orcish forces, dark forces besieging the former capital, and civil war. The Meltonians have cracked down on any talks of session or rebellion. Their measures include the large-scale displacement of many beastfolk from the Draeceni plains and executions for nobles considered renegade. This has led to a second mass migration down into Ascari territory, creating one of the largest humanitarian crises of this decade. Ascari officials including Grand Mayor Titus Lindsari of Berenia have called upon Melton to control the flow to its borders. But, their pleas have fallen on deaf ears as current estimates put the number at almost three quarters of a million individuals who have crossed the Meltoni-Ascar border as refugees or those fleeing active persecution. A statistic not counting those who had already fled during the Meltonian annexation of Draecen. Ascaran League officials have already convened an emergency meeting and are considering an armed intervention into what they proclaim as ‘An Ending Disaster’. More information to be revealed in the days to come by a press conference being held by Sturmbreaker Prince Mayor Ashlin Montroi.”

- Arterian Affairs, Special News Edition Vol 5, ‘Pg 6 - The Northern War: Spiralling Crisis’

Once, she had been fifth in line to inherit a throne. She had been part of a family that was admired by its people. She had worked tirelessly to win her people’s acceptance amidst a civil war. One might say she had even succeeded, earning the adoration of hundreds that comprised her fiefdom. That was shattered by the third outbreak of violence, tearing the country of Gratia into a multitude of smaller states and into the unending hells of suffering. The people she had helped the same ones to have exiled her to avoid their own demise by association.

Once, she had been sequestered into a distant corner of their familial influence, into a sleepy port city called Sturmbreaker run by an almost unremembered distant branch of the family. Tutored by one of the finest statesmen in Ascar, a distant family branch that had almost been forgotten. There, she had been protected and safe. Yet, that too was lost, but this time to her own folly. For she had admired the heroes in stories, books, and legends. When the chance arose, she had snuck off and joined a nascent adventuring group consisting of but a paladin and his dwarven comrade.

Once she had been welcomed, taken in and cared for. She had made friends, found new ones as more people joined the company and their acquaintances everywhere grew. They had settled in a dusty wood covered city, taking odd jobs that propelled them through the ranks. She thought she had been alone and lost, but no longer as she bonded and her new family took her in. Life was good and she enjoyed all the joy they brought with their company. Then, she had found a half elf, and her world collapsed in on itself.

No more could she rely on her comrades, her family, or even her own body. No more could she find the strength that once lit her soul with a fire for adventure. She had been whisked up in a whirlwind and thrown out the other end, alone and broken. Then, she had found a kind, warm soul that embraced her, loved her, and coupled with her in ways she could scarcely expect. It was a primal, yet enjoyable emotion that she revelled in, giving her the little bit of hope that something awaited for her at the end of the journey. So too, did that light flicker out.

Once, she had been Annabelle-Elise Adeline Montroi. The fifth princess of Gratia, but that life had been taken from her. Then she was just Annalise; ranger, adventurer, problem solver and marksman. But, that too, was robbed from her. Finally she settled for being no one in particular, just to love, to feel warmth, and have a little corner of the world for herself. A dream that was crushed when the orcs cursed the land with their plague.

Annalise took a few heavy breaths as she tiredly looked up at Kimmie’s rot corrupted form. The sickly yellowed eyes glared back at her with hunger, the person that had once bedded her now desperately clawing at her, hungry for her flesh, to spread the dark plague embedded within her. The tightening of the rope and the creaking of the wood it was wrapped around would’ve once made Annalise wince, a sign that the restraint was failing. But here, she felt no such fear, just a growing sense of guilt, regret and sadness. The cloth wrapped around Kimmie’s mouth helped muffle some of the grotesque sounds trying to force its way out of her mouth. Nothing but an aggressive groaning and roaring as Kimmie tried to force her way out of the restraints.

Annalise sighed and slumped against the wall. She was tired of the world, tired of her constant struggles, tired of all her bad luck. Since childhood, she had often desired to be not just admired, but to be respected and loved. How ironic was it, that whenever she found such moments, the world would always take it away from her, like a thief snatching a toy out of a baby’s hands. She had tried, she had fought, she had even prayed aplenty, only for all her pleas to fall on deaf ears. Now, in a grim twist of fate, people whomst she once considered friends were now hunting her down. Though, admittedly, however she looked at it, she knew she was the outlier, the ‘bad guy’.

She wondered how it would end. What she would feel when the moment came. If Kimmie broke free, she imagined the pain would be quite intense as the girl’s rot ridden form tore into her flesh to consume her. The pain, she theorized, would be much like when the sorcerer had blown off her leg, extreme, but this time, likely extended up until the moment her consciousness finally faded away. Or it could be swift, brief, and likely over in but a moment if Mila found her before Kimmie breaks free. It would hurt, watching the former tavern maid be dispatched, though she suspected that she would follow soon after anyway.

Death, it would seem, was well acquainted with her throughout her journeys and had simply left her to live out a few more weeks before it came to claim her. If only it could’ve come earlier, Annalise sighed to herself, then I wouldn’t have to see… this. She looked back up at Kimmie, feeling almost a small sense of recognition flicker through the rot form’s eyes. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? Dammit Kimmie, if only I just… Annalise sighed once again and turned to look at the bow laid out next to her.

It had been a gift from back in Gratia, commissioned by her family due to her penchant for trying to impress the locals with wild antics in the royal forest. For ‘once you grow older’ they had told her, a challenge she had eagerly accepted back then. Though it was smaller than an average hunting bow, it served her well and through rigorous training, she had pretty much mastered its use. She had refined it over the years, carved it better fit her, or restrung the bowstring if it snapped. But, it had been hers.

The dim lights of the darkened morning skies were a depressing way to go out. The gross sickly pale rays of light cutting through the window into the farmhouse offered little comfort. She watched the beams of light dancing through the rain covered windows, performing a small jig that served to distract her for a moment. Around her, the decay dingy room of an equally decrepit farmhouse creaked as the former residents of the building slowly returned from death, morphing into corrupted life forms.

Her eyes snaked their way over to a small steel knife besides the bow. It was as generic as could be, purchased off some vendor somewhere during her time with Runebound. It was dull, a little bit off, and most certainly just a knife. However, when she looked at it, she wondered if it would be a decent way to depart should the former residents somehow make their way into the room she was in. She would be alright getting torn up by Kimmie, but the thought of dying to the other infected disgusted her.

Soft thuds echoed from down below and she recognised the distinctive ting of a sword. Ahh, Mila then. Annalise gazed up at Kimmie, the rot form having calmed down after hearing the sounds from below. I wonder if she’s still in there, somewhere. Annalise looked at her weapons one last time before she shrugged, she was done fighting. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, listening only to Kimmie’s muffled grunts and the footsteps. The loud creaks of boots on the stairway reverberated in the floorboards and she took a final breath, awaiting the finale.

Goddess, I’m a mess. Sorry for fucking up so much.

“I’m sorry, Mila-” Annalise began.

“Bet you weren’t expecting me.” A gruff voice echoed.

Her ears perked up and as everything slowly registered, she flicked her eyes open to find an unwelcome face staring back at her.

What sick fuckin joke is this?

Filled with a sudden rage, she launched herself at the knife and managed to grip it in her hands only to feel a heavy boot press down upon her hand.

“Traitor!” Annalise growled.

“Traitor? That’s a bit harsh.” Arnold grunted.

“Fuck!” Anna screamed as his foot pressed down harder, the pain forcing her to let go of the knife.

This piece of shit, I’m gonna kill him!

“Hoo boy, now that’s some fire in your eyes.” The man smirked.

“You shit! Why the hells are you here?!”

“Hey, just here to make you an offer, really. Not got a lot of time either so listen up.”

“Go to the depths of the hells, you rat!”

“Hah, would you calm down slightly?” He let out an exasperated sigh.

Bastard!

Annalise roared with fury and managed to shake her hand free, quickly flicking the knife towards his leg when something smacked into the blade with a heavy thunk and sent it flying far across the room. What the fuck? Annalise wiggled to face the new assailant when a soul wrenching chill squeezed down upon her.

No, no, no. I’m hallucinating, the fuck is this? Is this the hells? Is this the damnation for my sins? Fuck… please… there’s no way.

“Little calmer now?” Arnold grinned.

Annalise was caught in the throes of anger and surprise. The shock stopped her body from moving even as she desperately desired to sock the bastard in the face. For from where the knife had been smacked out of the air was a staff. When her eyes traveled up the staff, she found herself gazing up at a ghost. Sara.

The healer was worse for wear, her face leagues paler than what would constitute a ‘living’ person. The signs of corruption of magical tampering oozing forth from the very pores of the undead form. But, aside from that, she looked remarkably like a person. It’s like she’s alive… what the fuck?

“Good. You’re quiet now so I’ll make this quick. You remember Sara? My darling little Sara?” Arnold spoke, a tad more seriousness in his voice. But, only a tad.

Annalise just quivered with rage. He talks like he didn’t just leave her to die.

“She’s alive as much as you or I.” He continued, “Ain’t that right darling?”

Annalise turned slightly to gaze at the Sara thing.

“That’s right.” A hollow, almost wisp like voice came from the thing.

“S-sara?” Annalise finally managed to stammer out.

“That’s correct.” The hollow, emotionless voice echoed. That’s not her, it can’t be. It can’t.

A clap drew her attention back at the figure that loomed over her, her shocked expression reverting instantly back to a scowl.

“Bastard.” She growled.

“Now, now. Since we’re settled in, I’ll keep this brief, Anna. I want you to join us.”

“To hells with that! Traitor!” She tried to pry herself free.

Arnold sighed with obvious annoyance and tried again. “Now listen, I want to get the gang back together. Clearly, as you can see, Sara’s back. Might’ve done a bit of grave robbing but it’s not like anyone was tending to it.”

“The fuck?” Annalise whispered her thoughts out loud.

“We got driven off by some black hats before I could get my hands on everyone else’s… bodies.” He spat the lost words out distastefully.

Their bodies? Did he desecrate their graves? The bastards! What the hells is his angle here?

“Okay, look. I see the look on your face so I’ll straight to the point. I want you back on the team, back in Runebound. We’re… refounding it, in a way.” He looked at the Sara thing, “As you can see, we’re getting there.”

“You-”

“Ah, ah. I’m not done yet. Second thing, the big picture. Long story short, the guys that backstabbed us at the ruins belong to a cult, the same cult you and that half elf have been chasing this whole time.”

At that Annalise froze, Sophie? What did they do to her? How does he know? “If you…” She growled.

“I know, if I hurt her, I’m gonna get flattened. I get it. But, listen.” He finally stepped off her hand, the sudden release making her wince. “I got contacted by another group, a little bit outside the law, but good guys. They said the Demon Lord, that is, a new Demon Lord spawned in the Deadlands, hence the chaos up north.”

“Demon…Lord?” Annalise whispered, her mind still sluggish with hate.

“Aye, one nasty bastard. So this cult, that is the Direktor who stabbed us in the back, they’re trying to stop the demon lord by doing some insane bullshit. As I’m sure you witnessed yourself. My guys, that is the guys that talked to me, want to stop them, and the demon lord at the same time. Two for one, am I right?” Arnold grinned.

Annalise tried to punch him but found herself stopped by the Sara thing.

“Let me go!” She yelled, struggling to free herself.

“No.” Came the reply.

Annalise stilled and fell silent, her mind still unable to reconcile that the healer she had watched die, was now in front of her and talking.

“Anna, hey. Focus.” Arnold snapped his fingers, “Demon bad, cult bad, my guys good. Okay? Well they’re also shady as shit and do some pretty nasty stuff. But in comparison, pretty good.”

“And?” Annalise hissed.

“And I want you on board, followed you for quite a while after they found me.”

“Traitor.”

“Hey, now. Coward? Sure. I ran. But traitor? I never stabbed anyone in the back. Well… any of you anyways.” He grinned, “Fuck, right, focus. So you or out? Back in Runebound with Gil and Thulgrim again? Though this time you might call the organisation I’m with… the Flames of Life.”

Well that sounds suspicious as fuck, another cult? Annalise was silent, her mind still figuring things out when another set of boots burst into the room.

A robed monk looking lizard man with red and green scales nodded at the other two. They nodded back and Arnold visibly sighed in defeat.

“Anna, Anna. Listen. Join back up? Or no? Tell you what, you see Sara? They did that, they brought her back. Your friend over there? Tied to the wall? We’ll take her with us and try to fix her up too. How about it? Cause we’re running out of time ‘fore your black hat friend gets here.” Arnold spoke, desperation in his voice.

“Why me?” Annalise asked.

“Whys, what, who, when, how, there, here. All that, save it for later, you in or you out?”

“I…”

“Cause we’re about to do something super fucked, and if we time it wrong, your black hat friend is dead.”

“Mila… Mila’s gonna die?” That has to be a bluff, how would they even fight the inquisition? She also has help now. All this… what is this fucking joke even? Can I get out of this? Please?

“Big portal s-s-spell, needsss s-s-sacrifices.” The lizard man interjected, “Now!”

Oh shit, oh shit. Portal spell? Isn’t that what got Riza?

“Right, fuck. We’re out of time. Yes or no?” Arnold demanded.

Annalise took a few heavy breaths, her eyes unfocused as pressure just piled onto her shoulders. She met Sara’s gaze, the healer looking relatively emotionless besides for a hint of sadness. What do I do? Is this even real? Am I just being conned? Could I… really… get them… all back?

Perhaps it was the somber expression on Kimmie’s corrupted face, or perhaps it was how the rot form simply stopped resisting, as if urging her to push forth with her desires. I know, Kimmie, it’s a second chance… an opportunity. If he’s lying… then I guess I’m just a fool all the same.

“Fine.” Annalise stated after a moment.

“Huh?”

“Fine, I’ll come along.”

“Oh… oh! Terrific, let’s get moving!” Arnold exclaimed in surprise.

“Don’t think for a second I’m just gonna roll over for you lot.” Annalise snarled.

But in her mind, a different tune roused itself from slumber. A tune of hope and fear in equal measure. A new melody that hummed throughout her veins. She had a chance, a chance at restoring something. Yet, judging by how her heart raced in anxiousness, she just knew that whatever cost had to be paid would be too high, that whatever they did would skirt the boundaries of morality. But I still want to see everyone again…

“Well, for what its worth, welcome to the Flames. Errr… and welcome back to Runebound, or rather, it’s nice to have you back? Anyway, we’re taking both of them with us. Sara help me with the rotted one, and Anna…” Arnold paused, “you can yell at me later.”

Annalise couldn’t respond before Arnold heaved her whole body into the air. Behind him and Sara, Anna finally saw the giant markings that were drawn around the house by the lizard. The creature hummed and chanted in some strange esoteric language when a bright light blinded her and shattered all the windows around her in a cacophony of chaos. Power radiated fourth from the lizard like a wave and swept over her like some extreme pressure, almost pushing herself and Arnold down. Just as it dissipated, an equally if not more powerful surge of energy collapsed inwards towards the lizard, the mana in the air around her supercharged and releasing an almost intoxicating hum of power that tickled the hairs on her arms. A second bright flash blinded her once again, this time followed by the sound of wood creaking and cracking. Before her eyes could recover from the flash, she faintly recognised the faint outline of a large scale spell. Then, she was gone.