As the first rays of dawn crept through the city's dome, casting a faint glow over Kel, Thal sat in the corner of the inn, arms crossed, his massive form almost blending into the shadows. The faint sounds of the city waking up reached his ears vendors setting up stalls, the clatter of boots against the cobblestone streets, and faint murmurs of conversation from early risers. His mind, however, was elsewhere, haunted by Zara's cryptic words and the storm of unanswered questions they had left behind.
The sound of soft footsteps broke him from his thoughts. Nyra emerged from her room, her sliver hair tousled but her eyes sharp and alert. She glanced around the inn, her gaze immediately finding Thal. She didn't say anything at first, just nodded in acknowledgment before stepping toward the bar to grab something warm to drink.
Not long after, Luken shuffled out of his room, still looking half asleep, his dark hair a mess and shadows under his eyes betraying his exhaustion. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, rubbing his temples before noticing Thal and Nyra. His gaze lingered on Thal, as if debating whether to ask something, but he ultimately sighed and walked over to join Nyra.
The creak of another door opening drew all their attention. Two tall, muscular Ork women stepped out of Valen's room, their heavy boots thudding against the floor. One adjusted the straps of her leather armor while the other casually tied her long braid over one shoulder. They exchanged amused glances before walking down the stairs, their laughter echoing faintly.
Luken raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his face as he glanced at Nyra. "Well, someone had an eventful night," he muttered under his breath.
Nyra rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Guess Valen's making friends," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.
As if on cue, Valen emerged from his room, looking surprisingly well rested despite the circumstances. His armor was polished, his hair neatly tied back, and a smug grin played on his face as he adjusted his sword at his hip. He glanced at the group and stretched dramatically.
"Morning," he said, his tone casual but laced with amusement. "Sleep well?"
Nyra shot him a pointed look. "Better than you, I'm sure."
Valen chuckled, unfazed. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Thal stood from his corner, his towering form immediately drawing their attention. His expression remained neutral, but there was a faint flicker of impatience in his eyes. "If you're all done with your morning rituals," he said, his deep voice cutting through the room, "we have a long day ahead."
Valen smirked but said nothing, grabbing his gear and falling into step with the others. Luken stretched, still looking groggy but ready to move, while Nyra grabbed her axe and gave a quick nod to Thal.
"Let's get going," she said, her tone firm.
The group filed out of the inn, stepping into the bustling streets of Kel as the city fully came to life around them. For now, the past night's events were left behind but the weight of what lay ahead lingered over them like a storm cloud.
As the group moved through the crowded streets of Kel, Thal's commanding presence ensured a clear path, though the curious stares never ceased. The dome's faint shimmer overhead cast an ethereal glow across the city, but Thal's mind was focused elsewhere. He spoke with a tone of calm authority.
"We're not leaving yet," he began, his deep voice breaking through the chatter of the city. "There's something we need to handle first."
Nyra, walking beside him, glanced up at his stoic face. "And what would that be?"
"The Harbinger," Thal said bluntly, keeping his pace steady.
The word sent a ripple of confusion through the group. Luken frowned. "Harbinger? What's that supposed to mean?"
Thal didn't look at them, his gaze fixed ahead. "You'll find out soon enough."
Valen scoffed, his usual cocky demeanour surfacing. "Great. Another cryptic explanation. Just once, I'd love a straightforward answer."
Nyra sighed, adjusting her axe on her shoulder. "If Thal says it's important, we don't have much of a choice. Let's just get this over with."
The group followed Thal through the winding streets until they reached the imposing structure that served as Na'reth's domain. The towering building, etched with intricate runes and symbols, radiated authority and power. Thal led the way inside without hesitation, the rest trailing behind.
Inside, the air was heavy with an unspoken tension. Guards clad in dark armor stood at attention, their insect like forms and others with their exoskeleton tails is a stark reminder of the Kruu'vesp's and Kruu'Strata's dominance here. At the far end of the room, Na'reth sat upon her throne, her crimson eyes gleaming as they fell upon the group. Kael was lounging nearby, his casual posture a sharp contrast to Na'reth's regal demeanour.
Valen's gaze immediately landed on Na'reth. Her striking appearance and commanding presence clearly caught his attention. With a smirk, he stepped forward, bowing dramatically.
"My lady," Valen began, his voice dripping with charm. "It's truly an honour to be in the presence of someone as radiant as"
Before he could finish, Kael's voice cut through the air, loud and teasing. "Oh, don't even try, pretty boy. Na'reth's far too smart for your little games."
The group turned to see Kael standing with a young Kruu'Strata woman at his side. She was strikingly similar to Nyra in height and build, with sharp features and a quiet intensity that made her presence felt immediately. Her horns curved elegantly, and the ridges along her spine gave her an imposing yet graceful appearance.
Na'reth glanced at Valen, her expression unreadable. "You'll have to forgive him," she said with a faint smirk, gesturing toward Kael. "He has a habit of speaking out of turn."
Kael grinned. "Only when it's worth it." He then gestured toward the young woman beside him. "Meet Kalrith, Na'reth's daughter. She's not one for pleasantries, so don't expect much of a warm welcome."
Kalrith stepped forward, her piercing red eyes scanning the group with a detached curiosity. Her shoulders were set in rigid confidence, but the flicker of something colder calculation, perhaps even scepticism lingered behind her gaze. Her fingers flexed slightly at her sides, not nervously, but like someone judging the measure of a blade before deciding if it was worth drawing. She paused when her eyes met Nyra's, and though her face didn't change, the air between them seemed to still—like a silent challenge unspoken. She stopped briefly when her gaze met Nyra's, as if sizing her up, before finally speaking in a calm, measured tone. "If you're traveling with him," she said, nodding toward Thal, "you must be capable enough. Let's hope you're not dead weight."
Nyra bristled slightly but said nothing, while Valen looked between Kalrith and Thal with a raised eyebrow. "She reminds me of someone," he muttered under his breath, earning a smirk from Luken.
Thal stepped forward, addressing Na'reth directly. "We're here to go over the details of the Harbinger."
Na'reth nodded, her expression serious. "Good. Kael will assist you in this, as will Kalrith. This isn't something I take lightly, Thal. If you're here, I trust it's because you understand the gravity of the situation."
Thal's gaze flickered toward Kael and Kalrith briefly before returning to Na'reth. "I do."
Kael clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. "Well, this should be fun. Two Nephilim, a group of mismatched adventurers, and a problem too big for anyone else to handle. What could go wrong?"
Kalrith shot him a withering look but said nothing, her focus now on Thal and the group. The stage was set, but the weight of what lay ahead loomed heavy over them all.
Kael stood up from his relaxed posture, clapping his hands together loudly. "Alright, listen up, people," he said, his voice echoing across the room with the energy of someone about to lead an adventure and a comedy show at the same time. "We're about to divide and conquer, and by 'we,' I mean the big guy and I are going to handle the ugly stuff while the rest of you play babysitter for the city."
Thal shot him a look but didn't interrupt.
Kael gestured to a nearby map laid out on a table, its surface marked with rough sketches of the Shadowfern and the city of Kel. "Here's the deal. The Harbinger loves to raise the dead, and let's be honest: in a place like Kel, that's a lot of dead to work with. Old wars, old grudges, and all that lovely decay perfect ingredients for a nightmare army."
Kalrith, who had been silently observing from the side, stepped forward. Her tone was sharp but measured. "And it doesn't stop there. If the Harbinger's influence spreads, it'll call on the dead from beyond the Shadowfern. We could be looking at an entire region overrun. We don't have the luxury of time."
Kael nodded, for once taking the situation seriously. "Which is why Thal and I are heading straight to the source. The Harbinger itself." He pointed to a location on the map, a dense section of the Shadowfern marked by strange symbols. "It's holed up here, likely gathering its strength. Normally, I could handle this alone."
Thal crossed his arms, cutting in. "But it returned too quickly. That means someone or something is influencing it." His voice was steady but carried an undertone of concern.
Kael tapped his staff on the floor. "Exactly. And that's where things get messy. Whoever's pulling the strings might not be anywhere near the Harbinger itself. So we need to deal with both the puppet and the puppeteer."
Na'reth's eyes narrowed. "And you're sure it can't be killed?"
Thal and Kael exchanged a glance before Thal answered, his tone grim. "It can't be killed. Not permanently. Nephilim have faced Harbingers for centuries, and the best we've managed is containment. Cutting it down will only delay its return."
Kael chimed in, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Think of it as a very stubborn weed. You can rip it out, but it always grows back. And if someone's speeding up that process, we've got a whole new problem."
Kalrith folded her arms, her gaze fixed on the map. "What's the plan?"
Kael straightened, his demeanour turning more serious. "Thal and I will head to the Harbinger's location with a strike force. Two of you will come with us Luken and Nyra, you seem like the best fit. Nyra, your strength will be invaluable, and Luken… well, let's just say you've got a certain edge that might come in handy."
Luken glanced at Thal, but Thal gave no indication of disagreement.
Kael continued, "Meanwhile, Kalrith and Valen will stay here in the city. You'll coordinate with the city's army and hold the line. If the Harbinger gets too close or starts raising the dead here, it'll be chaos. You need to keep Kel from falling while we handle the source."
Kalrith nodded curtly, her expression unreadable. Valen, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow. "And what about Tar?"
Kael shrugged. "Tar can stay with Kalrith and you. If things get out of hand, you'll need all the brute force you can get."
Nyra, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke. "So, we split our forces and hope for the best?"
Thal shook his head. "It's not about hope. It's about precision. If we're quick and coordinated, we can stop this before it spirals out of control."
Na'reth, observing the conversation, leaned forward slightly. "And if you fail?"
Thal met her gaze evenly. "We won't."
The room fell silent for a moment before Kael clapped his hands again. "Alright, then! Gather your things, say your prayers, or whatever it is you do before marching into doom. We leave at dawn."
As the group dispersed to prepare, Kalrith lingered near Thal. "You really think this will work?" she asked quietly.
Thal glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "It has to."
As the group stepped out into the morning light, the bustling streets of Kel became a stark contrast to the heavy air of preparation hanging over them. The sounds of the city, once lively and filled with commerce, now carried an edge of tension. Thal's eyes swept across the streets, scanning the crowd. The city was already beginning to react shops closing, people whispering, and warriors starting to gather. But it wasn't the chaos of the streets that commanded attention. It was the figure standing at the heart of it all.
Na'reth had donned her battle armor, her usually regal appearance now hardened by the weight of the situation. The gleam of dark steel caught the sunlight, the intricate runes along her armor flashing with a faint, ominous glow. She moved with a confidence that was all too familiar to those who had seen her lead before calm, composed, and undeniably powerful.
Her crimson eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the assembled soldiers. The Kruu'Vesp, with their insectoid forms, stood at attention beside the towering Kruu'Strata warriors. Their armor was sleek and designed for mobility, their blades long and deadly. The air around them hummed with the unmistakable presence of a seasoned army, one that had fought countless battles across treacherous lands.
Na'reth's hand rested on the hilt of a massive great sword, its dark blade nearly the length of her torso. The weapon's edge was polished to a near mirror finish, but its weight was clearly immense. The sword was a symbol of her authority, a tool of destruction when words were no longer enough. The aura around her was both calm and terrifying each movement deliberate, her every gesture commanding respect.
With a wave of her hand, she gestured to her soldiers. "Move swiftly," she ordered, her voice clear and unwavering. The Kruu'Vesp scattered in an organized flurry, fanning out across the city, while the Kruu'Strata warriors gathered in tight formations around her, ready for her command.
Na'reth wasn't just directing her own soldiers she was rallying the people of Kel. The city's inhabitants, many of whom had no formal training but a fierce loyalty to their home, were being recruited into the ranks. She made no promises of glory or honour. Instead, she spoke with raw determination, her words imbued with the weight of her experience.
"Stand firm, and you will see the sun rise again," she said to the gathered civilians, her voice carrying over the crowd. "The Harbinger threatens all that we know, but with your strength, we will hold this city."
As she spoke, the soldiers around her stiffened, the intensity of her presence amplifying the gravity of the situation. Her crimson gaze shifted toward the city gates, where more of her soldiers were assembling in formation. She was a force, both an unyielding ruler and a warrior in her own right.
The Kruu'Vesp, with their segmented limbs and insect like movements, worked quickly, setting up defences and preparing the city's outer perimeters. The Kruu'Strata were less subtle, their immense strength used to erect barricades and set traps defensive measures that would ensure the safety of the civilians should the dead begin to rise.
As the city's army came together, Na'reth's attention shifted briefly to the horizon, her eyes narrowing. There was a storm coming, and it wasn't just the Harbinger. It was everything that had led to this point the forces of darkness, the corruption of the land, and the looming threats that would soon test the resolve of every soldier, every citizen, and every leader.
With a final, commanding glance over her shoulder, Na'reth turned to Kael, who had arrived to join her. His usual light hearted demeanour was gone, replaced by a sober expression that matched the gravity of their task. "We are ready," she said simply, her voice steady but with an edge of finality. The battle had already begun.
Her soldiers, positioned and prepared, awaited her orders, ready to follow their queen into the coming chaos. Na'reth was not just leading an army she was becoming the symbol of their last hope.
As Na'reth surveyed her troops, her crimson eyes sharp and calculating, Kael approached her quietly, his usual smirk replaced by a rare, soft expression. He stood beside her for a moment, taking in the sight of her in battle armor strong, fierce, yet carrying an undeniable weight in her posture.
"Na'reth," Kael spoke, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You've already done more than enough. This city... they believe in you."
She didn't look at him at first, her gaze still fixed on the soldiers. But there was a slight tension in her shoulders that he didn't miss.
Kael's thumb brushed the cool metal of her armor, a gesture so intimate it would've been unnoticed by anyone else. "I'm not saying you don't know what you're doing," he continued, his voice low, "but I want you to remember something no matter what happens, you're not alone in this."
Na'reth finally turned to him, her expression unreadable for a moment but then, in her gaze, there was a flicker of something softer, a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath the surface of her command.
Kael gave her a small, reassuring smile, one that was rare for him, one that spoke of years of shared moments and quiet understanding. "We've faced worse, together. And we will again. You've got this."
Her lips parted slightly, as if about to say something, but she stopped herself, instead nodding once. Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer, her thoughts unreadable.
Kael stepped back, his usual cocky grin returning just a little. "Just don't go dying on me, alright?" he teased softly, but there was a depth to it, a sincerity in his voice that even Na'reth couldn't deny.
Na'reth's lips curled into the faintest smile, and for just a heartbeat, the tension between them lightened. She nodded once more, her confidence restored, knowing that, with Kael by her side, she wasn't facing this battle alone.
As the city's army assembled and the tension in the air thickened, Nyra and Luken stood apart, near the edge of the crowd, their heads bent in quiet conversation. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on them both, but their focus remained sharp, strategizing the upcoming mission with precision.
"Alright," Nyra began, her voice steady as she glanced at Luken. "We'll move fast, keep the pressure on the Harbinger's forces. We can't afford to get bogged down, especially if things start going south."
Luken, still looking a little groggy from the early morning, nodded slowly. His dark eyes were focused, though there was an undercurrent of tension. His half human, half Kruul heritage always made him feel like an outsider, but in moments like this, it was an advantage. The hybrid blood within him gave him strength, but it also made him a wildcard sometimes unpredictable, sometimes dangerous.
Nyra caught the brief flicker of doubt in his eyes. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze unwavering. "You know we'll need everything you've got. Thal and Kael can handle the Harbinger itself, but we'll be the backup. We'll need to clear the path for them, keep the city safe if it all goes sideways."
Luken exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "I know. It's just... we've both been in situations where things go to shit fast. The last thing we need is for me to lose control."
She stepped closer, her sliver hair catching the light. Her tone softened, but her eyes were firm. "You've controlled it before. You'll control it again."
Luken looked at her, the corners of his lips twitching as if he might say something then he just nodded, a silent agreement between them. He knew the risks, knew what he was capable of, but Nyra was right. This wasn't the time to second guess himself. Not with everything on the line.
"I'll stay focused," he said, his voice low but resolute. "But if things get tight... I might have to reveal myself again." His gaze flickered to the soldiers gathering outside the city, their armoured forms ready for whatever lay ahead. He took a slow breath. "The hybrid's power... it's not exactly subtle."
Nyra's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of understanding in her eyes. She had seen what Luken could do when he let the Kruul side of him take over the raw strength, the predatory instincts, the violence of it all. It was a last resort, one that could be as much a curse as a blessing.
"You do what you need to do," Nyra said quietly. "We've all got our demons. Just make sure it doesn't take you over. We can't afford to lose you out there." Her voice was steady, but beneath it, there was an edge of something deeper a care she didn't always show.
Luken met her gaze, holding it for a moment longer than usual. The weight of their unspoken bond hung between them, a quiet understanding that neither needed to voice. He nodded again, this time with a small, wry smile. "Guess we'll see how it plays out, huh?"
"Just keep your head in the game," Nyra replied, her voice returning to its usual no nonsense tone. "We'll handle the rest."
As they turned back to the soldiers gathering, ready to move out, a few Kruu'Vesp warriors approached them, weapons at the ready. Nyra gave them a brief nod of acknowledgment before turning to Luken. "We've got backup. Stay sharp. We need to make sure Thal and Kael don't get overwhelmed."
"Got it." Luken's eyes hardened, his mind already shifting into battle mode. He could already feel the tension building inside him, that familiar urge to tap into the power he'd kept tightly controlled for so long. But he knew today wasn't the day to lose himself. Not with the stakes this high.
With a final glance at Nyra, Luken adjusted his gear and took a deep breath, steeling himself for the battle ahead.
Outside the city, where the bustle of preparation was beginning to quiet down, Valen found a quiet corner near a training area, a small open space surrounded by thick, moss covered stones. The air was thick with the promise of battle, and the tension was something Valen was well familiar with. His mind was sharp, his body ready, but there was a subtle unease in the air. He needed to focus, clear the doubt lingering in the back of his mind.
He drew his twin blades from their sheathes with a fluid motion, their gleaming edges reflecting the pale light of the dawn. With a smirk, he set his feet, ready to practice. The weight of the blades felt natural in his hands, the balance between them perfect.
Valen's movements were a blur as he swung both blades in a series of fluid, calculated strikes. His body moved with a kind of grace that made the combat seem effortless. A slash, a parry, and a spin each motion seamlessly following the last as if the blades were extensions of his very being. The dance of his arms seemed to almost have a rhythm to it, an art as much as a deadly skill.
He moved through a series of complex strikes, his blades cutting through the air with a precise, almost musical cadence. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he didn't slow. The warm up was necessary, but it wasn't enough. Not today.
With a sharp twist of his body, Valen slammed the hilts of the blades together in a single, resonant strike. As they collided, a faint crackling energy surged between the two swords, and his movements shifted instantly, seamlessly, into a different form. The blades, now humming with a soft arcane glow, slid together with an almost symbiotic pull, the metal vibrating in his hands.
A spark of energy shot out from where the swords met, a crackling bolt of magic that whizzed through the air, striking the stone wall in a burst of violet sparks. The energy was light, just a trickle of his power, but it was enough. Valen's eyes glinted with satisfaction, and he swung the blades apart again, spinning them back into position.
He switched his stance again, his focus shifting from sheer strength to fluid precision. With a breath, the magic surged back into the blades as he swept them through the air, creating a series of short, controlled bursts of energy. Each swing of the sword released a brief flash of magic, ricocheting off the nearby stone wall and leaving a faint shimmer of purple light in the air for a moment before it faded.
Valen paused, taking a moment to catch his breath, his expression one of quiet confidence. This combination of swordplay and magic it was his signature move. A dance of steel and sorcery, something only a few could master. He wasn't the biggest, nor the strongest, but his speed and versatility along with the magical current that flowed through him set him apart.
He sheathed one of the blades, holding the other loosely at his side as he stared out toward the city's walls, where Thal and Kael were likely preparing themselves as well. He knew the battle ahead would be tough. There would be no room for mistakes.
But Valen wasn't one to hesitate. With his sword in hand, and the magic coursing through him, he was ready.
Thal sat cross legged on the ground, his posture perfectly still as he entered a deep meditation. The sounds of the bustling city faded into a distant hum as he focused inward, seeking calm and clarity amidst the storm that was about to unfold. His breath was slow and even, his mind a quiet pool of stillness, undisturbed by the tension in the air or the impending battle.
But that peace didn't last long. He sensed her approach before she even spoke footsteps light but deliberate, the faint sound of leather armor shifting as she moved. Kalrith.
He didn't open his eyes, but his posture subtly shifted, his senses tuning to her presence. A slight shift of weight, the faintest ripple in the atmosphere.
"Thal," Kalrith's voice came, blunt and direct, as always. "I need your help."
Thal remained silent for a moment longer, gathering his thoughts before replying in his calm, measured voice. "With what?"
Kalrith stood before him, arms crossed, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. "Techniques. I've trained with a greatsword for years, but there's always something I feel missing. I've seen the way you move. You're strong, controlled... You can teach me."
Thal's brow furrowed slightly. The words caught him off guard. He hadn't used a greatsword in years. He had long abandoned weapons in favour of more subtle methods. Why would she think he could help her with something like this?
Opening his eyes slowly, he glanced up at her, his gaze steady. "I don't use a weapon anymore, Kalrith," he replied, his tone firm but not unkind. "I have no need for it."
Kalrith didn't flinch. Instead, she looked down at him with that same sharp, unwavering gaze. She studied him like a puzzle piece she was determined to solve.
"Really? You're not going to tell me you don't know how to wield a greatsword," she said bluntly, a slight edge of challenge in her voice. "You're different from the others. I can see it in the way you move, the way you carry yourself."
Thal blinked, the faintest flicker of surprise crossing his face. He hadn't expected her to see through him so easily. He had always been careful, never revealing his past. His long years of training with a greatsword were a time he had buried deep, too far buried to resurface.
"Why would you think I know greatsword techniques?" Thal asked, his voice steady, though he couldn't entirely hide the curiosity in his eyes. He was intrigued now how did she see through him so clearly?
Kalrith tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes narrowing as she took a step closer. "The way you walk," she said simply. "When you're not carrying a sword, your movements... They're like mine. The posture, the control. It's the same."
Thal stared at her for a long moment, surprised by her perception. His mind raced as he replayed the countless battles, the days spent wielding the greatsword until it had become part of him, until he could predict every arc of the blade and shift his body in harmony with it. He had left that behind, but clearly, the imprint it had left on him was still evident.
For a moment, he didn't speak, simply watching her as she stood there, waiting for an answer. Her gaze never wavered, unblinking, focused entirely on him. He had underestimated her sharpness.
Finally, he exhaled, a low sigh escaping his lips. "You're observant," he said, his voice more thoughtful than usual. "It's true. I once wielded a greatsword. But that was a lifetime ago."
Kalrith's expression softened just slightly, but her eyes remained intense. "I don't care about your past, Thal. I care about what you can teach me now. If you understand the weight of a greatsword, how it feels, how it moves... you can help me with the techniques I'm missing."
Thal's gaze softened as well, but there was a quiet reluctance in his posture. He had buried that part of himself so deeply. The greatsword, once his constant companion, had been left behind for a reason.
But there was something about Kalrith's determination, the fierce drive in her eyes, that made him reconsider. She didn't ask him for anything. She simply saw.
He stood slowly, his muscles rippling as he rose to his full height. There was a subtle, deliberate grace to his movements, each step controlled and purposeful. The posture, the fluidity it was like she said. It was the same as her own.
Thal's voice, when it came, was low and steady. "Very well. I'll show you a few things. But understand this, Kalrith mastery of the blade is not just about strength or technique. It's about control. Control of yourself first, then the weapon. Only then can you truly harness the power of the sword."
Kalrith's eyes glinted with something like a challenge, but she nodded, her arms uncrossing as she prepared herself.
"I understand. Show me," she said, her voice steady, her gaze unwavering.
And for the first time in years, Thal felt the weight of a greatsword in his hands again, his past resurfacing not as a burden, but as a tool to shape the future.
Thal regarded Kalrith for a moment, his eyes measuring her with the same sharpness she had shown him. He could feel the tension in the air the weight of expectation pressing down on her shoulders. She was eager, but there was something in her posture that said she was more focused on the outcome than the journey to get there.
He shook his head slightly, sensing the impatience within her, the drive to move quickly and forcefully. He could see why she'd sought his help, but he also knew that what she needed wasn't advanced techniques or complicated manoeuvres it was something more subtle, more foundational. Something that couldn't be rushed.
Without a word, Thal stepped forward, motioning for Kalrith to do the same. He didn't reach for a weapon there was no need for one. His hands rested by his sides, his movements slow and deliberate. Kalrith, with her greatsword strapped to her back, followed suit, drawing the massive weapon from its sheath with a fluid motion, the weight of the blade not yet fully under control in her hands.
Thal's voice was calm, measured. "You're not just wielding a sword, Kalrith. You're controlling it. There's a rhythm to every swing, a pulse that guides the weapon. It's not about power. It's about allowing the sword to follow your body, not the other way around."
Kalrith glanced at him, confused but willing to listen. "But... power is everything with a greatsword. You need to hit hard."
Thal nodded, his expression unwavering. "Yes, power is important, but it's not what will make you master the sword. The first thing you must understand is balance not just in your stance, but in yourself. A greatsword is heavy. It demands your full attention, but if you fight it, it will tire you. If you give in to its weight, it will control you."
He motioned for her to take a stance, to lift the greatsword as if she were preparing for a strike. Kalrith obliged, bringing the blade up and positioning herself as if she were about to cleave through an imaginary enemy.
"Feel the weight of it," Thal instructed, his voice soothing but firm. "Let it settle. Don't force it. Let it become an extension of you."
Kalrith stiffened, her body resisting the sword's weight, trying to overpower it with her own strength. Thal could see the struggle in her form.
He stepped closer, his hand hovering near her elbow. He didn't touch her he didn't need to. "Relax," he said softly. "Your body is tense. The sword is a burden only when you don't accept its weight. Breathe. Allow it to rest in your hands, not fight it."
Kalrith huffed, frustration creeping into her expression. "I don't get it."
"Good," Thal replied, his tone almost light. "Because you're not supposed to get it all at once. Let it sink in."
Kalrith took a deep breath, her grip tightening around the hilt of the sword. She felt the strain in her arms, the muscles protesting, but she focused, just as Thal had suggested. Slowly, she relaxed her shoulders, allowing the weight of the sword to rest more naturally in her hands.
"There," Thal said, his voice softer now. "You're not trying to fight it. You're trying to move with it."
He watched her for a long moment, his eyes keen, reading the subtle shifts in her posture. Kalrith's body was still stiff, but her grip had relaxed, her stance more fluid. He could see the beginnings of understanding, though she was still far from mastering it.
Thal gestured for her to swing the sword. Kalrith hesitated, but she followed his command, bringing the blade down in a wide arc. As she did, Thal moved behind her, just out of reach of the swing.
"Now, move with it," he said, his voice low. "Don't overthink it. Let the motion flow from your centre, not your arms."
Kalrith swung again, this time less rigidly. The movement wasn't perfect, but there was a subtle grace to it. Thal nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Better," he said. "You're learning that the sword doesn't fight you. It follows you."
He stepped closer, this time reaching out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, not in a forceful way but to guide her. "The sword is like a dance partner. It will never lead if you refuse to follow. Understand that, and you will become the weapon. Not the other way around."
Kalrith lowered the blade, her expression thoughtful as she processed his words. "So... it's about more than just the strike?"
Thal nodded. "Much more. The sword is an extension of your body. Every strike is just a natural outflow of your stance, your balance, your presence. The moment you begin to control it like an external force, it will stop being part of you. And that's when you lose."
Kalrith stared at the blade in her hands for a moment before meeting his gaze. "You're right. I can feel the difference. It's... not what I expected."
Thal gave a small nod. "Few things are, Kalrith. But now you understand the most important thing. Don't just wield a greatsword. Become it. Control yourself first, and the rest will follow."
For the first time, Kalrith's expression softened, the edge of impatience replaced with quiet resolve. She was no longer trying to overpower the sword she was beginning to understand how to move with it.
As she resumed practicing, her movements were smoother, more controlled, and Thal watched quietly, a faint sense of satisfaction blooming in his chest. He had given her something simple but invaluable a lesson not just in technique, but in the very essence of combat. It was something he'd learned long ago and buried deep within himself. But Kalrith had seen it. And now, perhaps, she could carry it forward.
Thal watched as Kalrith swung the sword again, this time with a bit more fluidity. The way her stance shifted, the way the sword moved with her it was better, but still not quite right. He stood silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice low and purposeful, cutting through the tension in the air.
"When you wield a greatsword," Thal said, his eyes focused on the blade, "it's not just you and the weapon. It's two swords fighting. The blade and you. If you fight the sword, it fights you back. But if you move with it, if you let it follow your lead... that's when the real power comes. The sword isn't just steel. It's an extension of your will."
He paused, letting the words sink in before adding, "And if you can't make the sword dance with you, then you're nothing but a brute trying to force it into submission."
The air was heavy with tension, the tremors beneath the earth growing into a subtle, insistent rhythm that vibrated through Thal's boots and into his bones. It felt less like the land shifting and more like something buried clawing to the surface an itch under the skin, impossible to ignore. Thal stood near the edge of the city, his massive form silhouetted against the soft glow of Kel's dome. Kalrith had departed moments ago, her expression stoic as she returned to help Na'reth defend the city. Now, his focus shifted entirely to the task ahead.
Waiting for him were his chosen companions. Kael leaned on his staff, its carved runes faintly pulsing with light. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a grim determination that rarely surfaced. He met Thal's gaze, nodding slightly, a shared understanding passing between them.
Nyra stood nearby, her battle axe resting against her shoulder. Her silver hair glimmered in the late moon light, though her sharp eyes betrayed no hint of distraction. Her gaze shifted between the distant ruins and the city behind her, as if calculating every potential outcome.
Luken stood a few paces away, one hand gripping his staff while the other rested on his face, fingers lightly touching the edge of his Kruul hybrid eye. His expression was unreadable, but his posture spoke volumes. He was coiled like a spring, ready to unleash whatever was needed when the time came.
The Kruu'Vesp and Kruu'Strata soldiers around them shifted nervously. Their exoskeleton armor clattered faintly with each movement, their sharp weapons glinting in the light. Despite their fearsome appearance, even they seemed unnerved by the mounting vibrations beneath their feet and then it came.
The ground outside the city cracked, massive chunks of earth splitting apart as something impossibly large forced its way to the surface. A deep, groaning sound rolled through the earth like a beast exhaling beneath them, followed by a foul, damp smell that stung the back of the throat like rotting moss and burnt copper. The sound was deafening, a mixture of groaning stone and snapping roots that echoed across the landscape. All eyes turned to the ruins in the distance, now shrouded in a dark, roiling mist.
The first thing they saw was the hand. Enormous and gnarled, it rose from the ground, each finger twisted like the roots of a cursed tree. Dirt, mud, and maggots cascaded from it, falling in torrents as it clawed its way higher. The scale of it was unimaginable the hand alone was the size of Kel itself. Its presence blotted out the sky, casting a shadow over the city and its defenders.
Nyra gritted her teeth, adjusting her grip on her axe as she muttered under her breath, "And here I thought nothing could surprise me anymore."
Kael's grip on his staff tightened, the runes glowing brighter as he let out a sharp exhale. "Well," he said, his voice uncharacteristically grim, "it seems the Harbinger decided to make an entrance."
Luken's hand lowered from his eye, and he stared at the monstrosity with a calm that felt almost unnatural. "The fight isn't here," he said quietly, his voice carrying an edge of resolve. "Not yet."
Thal stepped forward, his towering form radiating an unshakable presence. His grey eyes locked on the abomination in the distance, his expression unreadable. He spoke without turning to his companions, his voice steady and commanding.
"Let's move. The Harbinger's waiting."
Without hesitation, they followed him, stepping into the shadow of the colossus and toward the battle that would decide the fate of Kel.
As the group advanced, the air grew heavier with an unnatural chill, and the sound of shuffling footsteps and guttural moans began to rise around them. The ground trembled, and from the crumbling ruins, the dead began to emerge humans, dwarves, orcs, beastkin, all twisted remnants of what they once were. Their bodies moved unnaturally, their eyes glowing faintly with the same green light that radiated from the Harbinger.
The Kruu'Vesp's took to the air, their insectoid wings buzzing furiously as they dove into the hordes. Their serrated limbs and razor sharp mandibles tore through the undead with brutal efficiency, dismembering the reanimated corpses before they could close the distance. The Kruu'Strata advanced on the ground in perfect formation, their massive blades cleaving through undead flesh like it was nothing, severing limbs and bisecting bodies with every swing.
Then, the ground beneath them quaked violently. The air felt thick with a suffocating presence as two gargantuan forms began to rise from the rubble. They were grotesque beings, each larger than any beast, with pale, sinewy flesh stretched taut over their unnaturally elongated frames. They were naked, yet devoid of any defining features save for a wide, horrifying mouth. One of the creatures twisted violently as a limb erupted sideways from its chest with a sickening crack, the flesh folding and warping as the arm lashed out like a bludgeon. The malformed limb slammed down on a cluster of Kruu'Vesp, flattening them into the dirt with a pulpy crunch. The Titans' bodies shifted and twisted unnaturally, pulsing with corrupted magic as if reshaping themselves at will. that stretched ear to ear, filled with rows of jagged, sharp teeth. Where eyes and noses should have been, there was nothing only smooth, blank flesh. Their bodies radiated a sickening aura, and their movements were disturbingly fluid for their massive size.
The sight sent a wave of unease through the group. Even Nyra, who rarely flinched in the face of danger, froze for a heartbeat. Her eyes widened slightly, then narrowed, her knuckles whitening around the haft of her axe. A cold breath slipped past her lips before she muttered under her breath, "What in the Rim are those things?"
"They're Titans," Kael said grimly, his voice unusually serious as he planted his staff firmly into the ground. "Mages who pushed their magic too far, twisted it until it turned them into... that." His eyes flickered with recognition but also dread. "They're not just creatures they're pure, living magic given form. And they're almost impossible to kill."
Thal's expression darkened as his gaze locked on the Titans. His usual calm was tinged with a rare intensity, his golden eyes narrowing as he spoke. "Kael, we'll split the fight. You and Nyra focus on the Titans. Keep them away from the Kruu'Vesps and Kruu'Strata. I'll deal with the Harbinger."
Kael turned to Thal, his staff glowing faintly in response to the surge of tension in the air. "You're taking the Harbinger alone?" His usual smirk flickered for a moment before fading entirely. "Thal, even you"
"Trust me," Thal interrupted, his voice steady and commanding. "I'll be fine. The Titans are the bigger threat to the army. They'll rip through our forces if we don't take them down fast. This is the only way."
Nyra nodded, her silver hair catching the dim light as she readied her axe. "Fine. We'll handle it. Just don't go dying on us, Thal."
Kael sighed, his hand tightening around his staff. "Alright, but you owe me for this." His grin was faint, but it was there a flash of his usual self breaking through the tension. "Let's make it count."
The Titans began to move, their long limbs swinging with horrifying grace as they let out guttural, otherworldly roars that reverberated through the bones of every soldier on the field. The sound was suffocating, like a tidal wave of broken voices crashing down at once—so loud and deep it made eardrums ring, eyes water, and some of the weaker soldier's stumble to their knees, blood trickling from their noses. that reverberated through the battlefield. The Kruu'Vesps swarmed them immediately, landing on their pale flesh and tearing at it with their serrated limbs. The Titans howled, but their wounds began to knit together almost as soon as they were inflicted, their magic infused bodies regenerating at an unnatural rate.
The Kruu'Strata charged forward, their massive blades glinting as they struck at the legs of the towering creatures. The Titans staggered but did not fall, their blank faces turning toward the soldiers as their grotesque mouths widened into impossibly large, toothy grins. One of the Titans reached out, its hulking limb swiping through the air and sending several soldiers flying like broken dolls.
Thal stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the Harbinger as its massive hand began to rise once more, preparing for another devastating attack. He took a deep breath, his voice calm but firm as he glanced back at Kael. "Go. I'll hold this thing back."
Kael hesitated for a split second before nodding, his staff glowing brighter as he turned toward the Titans. "Alright, big guy. Don't screw this up."
Thal didn't respond. His focus was already on the Harbinger, his body tense as he prepared to face the monstrosity alone. The ground trembled beneath his feet, but he stood firm, his golden eyes blazing with determination. Behind him, Kael, Nyra, and Luken rushed toward the Titans, their weapons and magic ready to clash with the terrifying manifestations of corrupted magic. The battlefield was chaos, but their resolve remained unshaken.
The Harbinger's colossal hand descended like a landslide, its sheer size casting a shadow over Thal. The force of its impact sent a deafening boom through the battlefield, scattering dirt and debris in all directions.
But as the dust settled, Thal stood unmoved, his arms braced against the massive, tree rooted hand. His feet sank into the ground, cracks spidering out beneath him, but he did not yield.
With a guttural roar, he pushed back, forcing the Harbinger's hand upward. The impact unleashed a shockwave that rippled through the battlefield, toppling undead and staggering even the Titans in the distance. The force was enough to make the Kruu'Vesps falter mid-flight and the Kruu'Strata pause in their relentless assault.
For a moment, all eyes turned to Thal, the lone figure holding back the weight of a mountain. His golden gaze burned with unshakable determination as he glared up at the monstrous being before him.
"Is that all you've got?" he muttered under his breath, his voice calm but laced with defiance.