In a distant section of the winding tunnels, a lone figure navigated the shadowed corners of the underground world.
Her footsteps were quiet – deliberately so, each step calculated to avoid drawing attention. She kept close to the walls, moving through the gloom like a whisper, cloaked in darkness.
Blood already stained her hands, her sleeve damp with red. When she had entered through her assigned portal, another maegi had been with her. But now, on the other side, only she remained – her clothes marked by the encounter.
Unfortunately for Linry, she soon encountered voices up ahead – people.
'Damn it,' she muttered, peering from behind a corner.
She'd reached an intersection: a wide chamber from which multiple corridors branched out. At its centre, she spotted five Gorleans, clustered in debate. Their voices echoed as they argued over which path to take next.
They gestured towards the various tunnels they'd already traversed, dismissing each as a dead end. Only two remained – the one Linry currently occupied, and another opposite it.
'No, I don't think we should split and explore both.'
'Elred, you may be right, but how else can we be sure of the right path?'
The maegi called Elred turned to the speaker. 'No need for certainty. If we stick together, we're more likely to protect each other. Who cares about exploring more paths if it means getting killed?'
Another chimed in, 'I'm with Elred. I'm not planning on visiting Infarid just yet.'
All five seemed to agree – splitting up wasn't an option. But the matter of which tunnel to take still sparked debate.
As the discussion continued and Linry rolled her eyes at their indecision, the entire chamber suddenly shook – a tremor rippling through the ground beneath their feet.
One of the walls caved in with a thunderous crash, and from the rubble emerged a monstrous figure – its body gleaming with a sickly green sheen. It tore through the corridor with unstoppable force, barrelling straight into the opposite wall, utterly indifferent to the five Gorleans in its path.
The maegis were knocked off their feet in its wake – some trembling in place, others already soiling themselves from sheer terror.
The encounter left the group stunned, frozen in place for several long, suffocating minutes. Most were too shaken to press on. And for Linry, it meant being trapped in her corridor, unable to proceed whilst they lingered so close.
She didn't bear them any ill will, but she couldn't afford to reveal herself – not so carelessly, not yet.
'Come on, damn you. Move along…'
Her muttered plea, as though invoking fate, summoned others to the scene. Two figures stepped into the intersection. Older, more seasoned than the young acolytes, their garb was unfamiliar – neither the robes of Gorlean nor Ikshari.
Those were strangers.
It took only a single glance from the newcomers to make their decision.
Without a word, one raised a hand and conjured an ethereal arrow that struck an acolyte clean through the skull, launching his body backward until it slumped half-across his comrade's lap.
A second arrow followed, driving itself into that same comrade's chest, stacking the bodies one atop the other like kindling.
Elred and the remaining two scrambled upright, summoning their defences in haste. But before one of them could act, a blur swept in – a magickally imbued arm cleaving clean through her neck, sending her head tumbling away as her body collapsed in silence.
Elred raised his arm to retaliate, but an arrow skewered his palm mid-cast. He dropped to his knees, screaming in pain.
One of the assailants seized him by the wrist, lifting him into the air like a ragged pup.
From that suspended vantage, Elred saw his last companion disembowelled – entrails spilled like coiled rope across the cold stone floor.
He struggled, breath catching in his throat, and turned his eyes to the one who held him aloft.
No words were exchanged. The attacker simply coated his arm in magick and, with one smooth motion, cleaved Elred in half at the waist.
His eyes glazed over. He choked on a sea of blood as his severed body slumped apart, the halves lying mere feet from each other.
From the shadows, Linry watched in still silence.
She never moved. Never revealed herself. Never once considered stepping in to help strangers whose names meant little to her.
Elred, though – the name rang a bell. Riniock had mentioned him once, during that story about getting him drunk to lure Arthian from his cabin.
But that was all. There was no bond. No obligation.
'Good start,' one of the killers remarked, swiping blood from his fingers with casual disdain. 'I think I'll go this way. You?'
'I'll stick around. Record the kills, grab anything valuable.'
'Alright. See you up ahead.'
The first man departed, leaving his companion alone amidst the five mutilated corpses. As soon as he was gone, the looter wasted no time, falling to his knees and eagerly rummaging through the fallen. His hands moved with practiced precision, diving into pockets and beneath robes, as if he knew exactly where valuables might be hidden.
'No coin…pathetic lot…' he muttered again and again, frustration growing with every passing moment. His tone made it clear – his search was yielding little.
Whilst he remained absorbed in his scavenging, Linry – finally having grown tired of waiting – made her move.
But instead of sneaking around his exposed back to reach one of the exits, she approached him directly.
Her steps were silent, calculated. She slipped through the gloom like a shadow, closing the distance with barely a sound.
Suddenly, the man stood upright, making her pause mid-step. Her breath hitched, ready to act – but he only rose to inspect some trinket he'd found. After a brief chuckle, he crouched back down and resumed rifling through the dead.
Linry crept closer. Heat gathered in her palm, her skin glowing red as magick stirred to life.
Just as she reached him, the man noticed something – perhaps the faint sound of her breath or a subtle shift in air. He began to turn.
But he was too slow.
As his head spun around, Linry lunged forward, grabbing his face with her searing hand. Heat erupted against his flesh, melting through cheek and jaw, tearing away his features like wax under a flame.
He shrieked – a raw, hideous sound gurgling from what remained of his throat. He rolled across the stone floor, writhing in agony.
Linry gave him no chance to recover. She thrust both arms forward and unleashed a wave of fire, engulfing the maegi in a torrent of flame.
He screamed no more.
The corpse curled in on itself, blackened and still, smoke rising in thin trails from his charred remains.
Just as silence reclaimed the corridor, footsteps echoed from the direction the first man had taken. Suspicious, he had doubled back.
'Hey…I didn't hear your report on the broadcast. What's taking you so –'
He froze at the sight before him.
His companion, dead and scorched beyond recognition. Standing above him was none other than an Ikshari.
'What the hell is this?' the mercenary stammered, eyes wide. 'What is this treachery?'