Author Introduction

Hello and welcome to a brand new series. I have recently been partaking in roleplaying in the Warhammer world with a group of friends and have decided to chronicle the adventures of our band of mercenaries. Although these adventures have only just begun, these mercenaries, Torestorm, Lilly, Jarek, Gognak and Dimitri have found themselves in the employment of the Starlight Guardians: A secret organization of Elves and Dwarves, dating back before the War of the the Beard, dedicated to hunting down the followers of a lesser known Chaos God Cytharai.

My thanks to all those involved, the Blades of Valor: Tim (Torestorm), Karl (Gognak), Marc (Jarek), Emma (Lilly), Kathleen (Fanriel) and Andy (Dungeonmaster/Althion)

Anyway, here is the exploits of our band of adventurers. I hope you enjoy them!

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by the Blades of Valor. Everything else, by the Games Workshop


Secrets of the Cytharai

I

Formation

He ran on wings of fear….

He could hear them coming for him….

The sound of their feet coming after him, growing louder as they neared…..

He couldn't escape them no matter how hard he tried.

They always found him no matter how far he ran….

He could feel his legs tire but he tried to ignore them…..

But he could still hear the clanking metal thunder behind him….

He could feel the fear grasp him, the sweat running down his forehead….

And then, a hand reached out to grab him…..


The man stood in the middle of the forest clearing. He wore a thick white cloak complimented with a hood pulled down over his face.

The dream had come again the night before – it was the second time this week. It came drifting into his mind like an echo of a life long forgotten.

The man shook his head in banishment of such thoughts – he should not let something superficial like dreams bother him. He currently has more important things to deal with.

At the man's feet was a pool of fresh blood – a pool that flowed from a corpse boasting huge teeth and green skin.

The man didn't flinch at the sight of the dead Orc. He had seen many deaths and killed many foes in his lifetime. He'd sent one more to his grave – and no doubt there'll be many more to follow.

He had no idea why the greenskin attacked – Maybe he was intruding on the Orc's territory. Or perhaps the Orc saw him as good a foe as any.

Either way, the man didn't care. The Orc was a fool to challenge him.

Just then, he heard the sound of feet approach from behind.

He didn't look around – he already knew who it was.

Behind the hooded man came a second man. He was of a huge frame, dressed in chain mail, and boasting a thick brown beard and arms as thick as trees. This newcomer knelt down, several feet from the hooded man.

"My lord" the bearded man said.

"Gather the men Konrad" replied a voice drifting from underneath the hood "We're moving"

"Where to, my lord?"

"Glory….."


Two pairs of eyes looked up at the twin doors before them.

The doors themselves certainly were an impressive sight: They were made from an ancient oak, the type that came from an age long gone. They were bordered with a gold lining – the type that revealed themselves to be genuine solid gold upon closer inspection.

The first pair of eyes belonged to a tall male. He bore handsome features, a pair of pointed ears and long hair that betrayed his status as an elf. Yet at the same time, his complexion was pale, He was dressed in enamelled dark green armour and green silk and in his hand carried an ancient but still wicked looking blade. On his face was an expression forged from years of experience and wisdom – but at the same time a sense of anticipation, the likes of which he himself had never seen before.

Or at least in his many years of existence.

(Now numbering in their hundreds)

The second pair of eyes belonged to a much shorter man – one who had a face half-hidden behind a bushy beard. A Dwarven warrior, bedecked in a well-crafted chain mail shirt and who carried an impressive looking rifle in one hand. He too bore an expression of experience but it was tempered with a sense of tedium.

Directly in front of the warriors was a pair of door handles fashioned in the shape of dragons.

The dwarf turned to the elf and cleared his throat.

"Well lad," he said in a voice as deep as a mine, "you've come this far. Beyond these doors is where your destiny awaits."

The elf said nothing.

"You do realise," the dwarf went on "from this point on there is no turning back."

"I've heard that many times before," the elf replied, his voice a mixture of honey and razor blades. "It didn't bother me then and I see no reason to start now."

The dwarf chuckled as he grasped the door handle.

"Then I suppose this is where it starts."


He knew they'd arrived long before he heard their approach.

Althion Redblaze sat at his desk, fashioned from the finest mahogany, surrounded by many papers. The elf was dressed in the robes of an Elven mage, and sported a long cascade of blonde hair.

Of course, they had the audacity to enter before knocking but he let it slide.

After all, as long as they knew their place…..

In marched a dwarf accompanied by an elf.

Althion raised an eyebrow. In the centuries following the calamity known as the War of the Beard (or to some the War of Vengeance), he thought he would never see the day a dwarf cooperate with the elves in such a manner.

But when a greater danger lies ahead, needs must….

The dwarf approached the desk and removed his helmet.

"Greetings Commander."

The elf blinked. No kneeling, no salute and a touch of venom on the second word? He wasn't the least bit surprised but this wasn't the first time such a thing had happened.

"And greetings to you Gognak," Althion replied, his voice melodic. "Be seated."

The dwarf named Gognak and the elf pulled up a chair each and sat before the desk.

"I trust the investigation is going smoothly?" the mage inquired.

Gognak glared.

"Reports are coming in that an officer of the Moonshadow Carnival is nearby. He's far from the strongest in the chain of command but he's the best lead we've got."

"Excellent." Althion smiled. "And who is this?" he went on, eyeing Gognak's companion. "Is this the elf you were telling me about?"

The dwarf stiffened but nodded.

The elf stepped forward and made a small bow.

"Well then." Althion said "Torestorm is it? The Dreadlord?"

The elf named Torestorm nodded.

"Althion Redblaze," the mage said stretching out his hand.

Torestorm didn't respond. Nevertheless, the mage continued.

"I am the commander of the Starlight Guardians."

"Starlight Guardians?" Torestorm tersely inquired. "Who are you trying to fool? The Starlight Guardians are a myth."

"Oh no," Althion said, his mouth collapsing into a frown "We are no myth."

"Really?" Torestorm smirked. "Then how did an order of Dwarves and Elves manage to survive beyond the War of the Beard?"

"Vengeance," Gognak muttered under his breath but to little notice.

"We are the elder races." Althion said solemnly "We are few in numbers compared to the kingdoms of man. When a greater threat lies in a long-forgotten evil, we can't afford to indulge in such petty quarrels."

Gognak coughed but neither elf noticed.

"What?" Torestom scoffed. "So you're the real thing?"

Althion nodded.

"Then that must mean…." Torestorm began.

But then he stopped and grinned.

"The Gods of Cytharai?" Torestorm laughed "They're long dead and gone! You're chasing a legend!"

Althion said nothing. Immediately the smile vanished from the Dreadlord's face.

"There are no legends," the mage stated. "Small cults have persisted over the centuries but we of the Starlight Guardians have sought them out and eliminated them. The legend remains simply because we make it so.

"I have heard a great many things about you." Althion went on. "We could do with someone of your calibre."

Torestorm made no reaction.

"The last man to say something like that…." He started.

"….was the renegade mage named Siareth?" Althion finished. "Former adviser to Magnus Glint and ruler of Aldenheim?"

"You're well informed." The Dreadlord blinked.

"Oh but of course," Althion replied "we have agents everywhere. In any case however, we are in need of your skills. A cult has risen up in the Human Empire. They call themselves the Moonshadow Carnival and we're looking for mercenaries to work for us."

"Doing?"

"Mostly assassinations and striking at key targets, to prevent the spread of this cult."

A thoughtful silence ensued before Althion spoke again.

"If you want to strike against the hordes of chaos then this may be the perfect time to start."

Torestorm nodded before grinning a wolfish grin.

"Very well then," he said "you shall have my help."


It was the Imperial year of 2258 – six years since the Everchosen united the Chaos hordes under his banner in the time known as the Storm of Chaos. It was there however that the Imperium of man all stood together to halt the dark tide, together with allies from Bretonnia, the elves of Ulthuan and the Dwarven nations.

The forces of the Imperium emerged triumphant but at a horrific cost: Many great cities had crumbled, the nation of Kislev had received a nasty blow from which it seemed unlikely to recover and the forces of Chaos were now scattered - some of which establishing themselves in the empire unchecked. The Empire had been sent reeling, with many of its inhabitants now living in fear of rampant Chaos tribes raiding the roads and minor settlements.

The war may have been won but the blows dealt had left a greater, long-lasting impression.

Weissbruck was hardly a significant location on the massive land that is the Empire. If anything, it appeared no different than the many villages dotted throughout Reikland.

But it must have been worth something as it had recently courted some unwanted attention. Attention in the form of an attack by a raiding party consisting of a combined force of Orcs and goblins. It was anyone's guess why the green-skins decided to attack Weissbruck but the opportunity for plunder and killing some hated humies was a logical assumption.

In spite of the attack, however, the townspeople had managed to beat the greenskins off: Under the guidance of the Watch captain, one Heydrich Vogel, the populace stood alongside the soldiers in a ragtag force. Professional combatants stood alongside the determined and swords shared combat space with sickles and clubs. Victory eventually came but not without cost in the lives of men. Thus, the people of Weissbruck were in a state of recovery, whether tending to wounded or conducting repairs to any areas that were damaged.

Rumours were proliferating that the greenskins were amassed as a tribe under the name of the Black Axes. Some whispered that they had established a camp – but no one was willing to investigate. For rebuilding the town took a greater priority than chasing down stories.

And a lot less costly on the number of human lives.

Still, for any rogue, a town trying to recover presented the perfect time and place as any to fleece people for all the money they had.

Jarek Weissmann was a treasure hunter – or at least that's what he described his job. He made a living through entering forgotten tombs and dungeons and looting all the lost treasure and gold he could find.

It seemed like a laughable career choice but, so far, it had yielded some degree of success. After all, people will gladly pay through the roof to have something of ancient, priceless, historical value returned to safe hands. Strangely enough, once he had found something worthy of notice, it wouldn't be seen by anyone else ever again….

However, recently, Jarek's fortunes had taken a turn for the worse: The rumour mill, where his entire career was based upon, had run dry. The few rumours he tried to follow turned out to be either false or only worth a few measly coppers. So, for the time being, he had to resort to something else.

He had taken part in the battle against the Black Axes and fought a good fight – to the point that he was recognised for his bravery. Some elf approached him after the battle and offered him employment as a mercenary. Although bewildered by the offer, it didn't take Jarek long to see this as an opportunity to find even more treasure and he readily accepted.

Until the time the elf required him, Jarek made his way through the busy streets, his eyes darting left and right, trying to find some foolish noble's swollen purse just to tie him over.

With everyone focusing on getting their lives back on track, this would be the perfect time to go about his business without anyone noticing….

His eyes scanned around the busy street: He saw many people making their way through: Some carried building supplies, some carried food and medicines. Others looked tired and worn and still others looked glad to be alive following the recent Orc attack.

And at the both sides of the streets, merchants were busy trying to hawk their wares.

For not even an Orc raid will cease the constant pursuit of a profit.

Some loud shouting caused the tomb raider to look up – and there, on one corner was a man standing on a wooden box. He was dressed in ragged clothes, sported wild hair and a dirty beard, thus betraying his status as a flagellant.

The flagellant was raving about the dangers of the world and of indications of Sigmar's judgement against his people. But Jarek was hardly bothered: after all, the flagellant was here the day before, in the exact same spot.

"And the undead!" the flagellant was shouting "They are rising from their graves to come and crush you for your sins!"

Jarek raised an eyebrow. Undead this time? Yesterday it was Chaos.

Strangely no one seemed at all interested in the flagellant: Instead they hurried on past, seemingly more interested on getting on with their own lives than listening to some lunatic.

The tomb raider chuckled to himself before turning to go.

And then, it happened.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jarek caught the all-too familiar sight of gold.

He flicked his head around and caught sight of something sitting on, what appeared to be, a merchant's table. It was an artefact of some kind and, from his well-trained eye, one that was made of solid gold.

Immediately, everything ceased to matter to the tomb raider. All the people around him suddenly vanished and all the noises around him disappeared. He had no idea what that artefact was doing here in a busy marketplace like this but one's for certain:

It's one he's going to get himself.

Slowly, he began to move to towards the artefact.

He had gone halfway when it disappeared.

In an instant, Jarek came crashing back to reality. He blinked in disbelief – only to see a figure move quickly from the spot where the artefact was.

Jarek grew furious. Immediately he began moving to take up pursuit.

That rat thinks he can steal my artefact? He thought. Over my dead body!

Strangely enough, as the tomb raider made his way through the crowds, they immediately began moving away, giving him room to move. He could've sworn he'd heard someone scream 'Stop Thief' but he didn't care to notice.

Driven by an unflinching determination, it didn't take long for Jarek to catch up with the thief. With a grunt, the tomb raider dived, catching the fleeing thief with a tackle, thus sending both the men crashing to the ground.

"Going somewhere?" Jarek snapped.

"Let me go you nosy bastard!" The thief retorted.

"Not without this!" The tomb raider grinned, knocking the thief out from behind. He then ripped the artefact from the now unconscious thief's fingers.

Just then a third voice rang out:

"Oh thank you very much!"

Immediately, Jarek looked up to see a woman approach. She was dressed in the robes of a Shallyan Priestess and she was smiling.

"Thank you sir," she said to the tomb raider. "You've caught that thief – he had stolen my statuette."

And in an instant, Jarek's gold lust subsided, thus allowing him to see the gold artefact for what it was.

A statuette of the goddess Shallya.

Jarek's face collapsed into horror as he'd realised what he had done.

He had picked up something absolutely worthless.

With an awkward smile, he handed the statuette back to the priestess.

"Thank you so very much" she said "The blessings of Shallya upon you"

The tomb raider smiled nervously before looking up to see the Watch hurrying towards the scene.

"Listen," Jarek said to the priestess. "Been nice talking to you but I can't hang around."

And with that he bolted.

"Wait!" called the priestess but the tomb raider was already gone.

"He could've at least told me his name," she muttered.


It was the early light of dawn. The streets of Weissbruck were cold and silent. No one was around – save for a solitary figure at the village gate.

Torestorm was waiting, his arms folded and his mouth moulded into a bemused scowl. Here he was, all set to go on his first assignment for the fabled Starlight Guardians and what do they have him do?

A rescue mission.

He came into this expecting assassinations and fighting the dread forces of Chaos – not to play someone's nursemaid. But no: Althion instructed him to rescue someone (or something, the mage didn't say) named Alabern.

And he was going to accomplish this task accompanied by a pair of human mercenaries.

This just keeps getting better and better.

Banality aside, this task was most likely a test of his skills – as well as that of these humans – but surely Althion could've granted him a better quest…

What, did the mage lose his grip on some human w…

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

The Dreadlord looked up and was confronted by the sight of a human woman. She was dressed in the robes that designated her as a priestess.

So this was one of the mercenaries? Althion must be desperate….

The priestess looked up at the Dreadlord and smiled.

"Hello there!" She greeted, a voice bearing a Bretonnian accent. "I'm Lady Lilly."

The elf stared but said nothing. Undeterred the priestess continued.

"Are you with Althion?"

"Yes I am." Torestorm said.

"Well then." The priestess named Lilly said "I was told I would be under the command of an elf. So I am yours to command." she said, bowing low.

Torestorm blinked – perhaps having some allies would be beneficial….

"So tell me," he asked "why did you take on this mission? It can't be for the money, I wager…"

"Of course not," Lilly said with a chuckle "I've been busy healing those wounded in that orc attack. It was then that Althion approached me and offered me employment with his organisation.

"I suppose that as long as there are mercenaries willing to endanger their lives for coin, there will be those needing their injuries healed."

"What?" The elf grinned "Is being cooped up in a temple lacking in excitement?"

"Well it's funny you should say that" Lilly answered "Yesterday, I was healing some more of the wounded in the local marketplace when some thief ran off with my statuette of Shallya! Some kind soul managed to catch the thief and return the statuette but he ran off before I could thank him…"

Torestorm blinked. A chatterbox of a priestess? Oh Solkan help me, he thought, mentally smacking his forehead.

Just then, the elf and the priestess heard the sound of footsteps approaching. They both looked up to see a human man walking towards them. He was dressed in adventurer's leather and carried a well-used sword.

"You!" The priestess exclaimed.

Jarek stopped dead in his tracks.

"You?" He yelled "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question!"

"I'm here for some mercenary work!" Jarek snapped "What are you here for?"

"I'm here for some mercenary work!" Lilly retorted.

The two humans blinked in disbelief as realisation hit.

"You gotta be kidding me…" the tomb raider murmured.

"Lilly, do you know this man?" Torestorm inquired.

"We met yesterday."

The elf smirked slightly– before realisation hit.

"There must be some kind of mistake" Jarek muttered.

You're telling me the elf thought.


The elf and the two humans stood before the mountain. In front of then, carved in the mountainside, was a well-used wooden door.

"So what are we looking for?" Jarek demanded.

"We are looking for something called Alabern." Torestorm answered.

"Sounds promising" the tomb raider grinned.

"Sounds like more like the name of someone." Lilly noted

Almost immediately, the tomb raider's face grew disappointed.

"I wonder who?"

Torestorm said nothing: his mind was deep in thought, wondering what Althion was thinking hiring mercenaries.

Let alone these ones.

"We have an evil to slay," Torestorm growled, "Let's get to it."

And with that he advanced on the door.

Lilly and Jarek exchanged looks before following.

And with an almighty kick, Torestorm struck the door with such force that it was ripped from its hinges.

Pausing only to draw two lethal looking blades, Torestorm then marched into the darkness.

Behind him, Lilly lit up a lantern and followed the elf.

"Just remember," Jarek said, bringing up the rear "If we find any treasure, I automatically claim it!"

"No you don't, we take equal shares!" Torestorm declared.

The three comrades found themselves heading into a darkened hallway. By the light of Lilly's lantern, it was revealed to be made of walls carved from the rock and with large, damp flagstones as a floor.

They hadn't gone far before the priestess cleared her throat.

"Torestorm," Lilly inquired "Did Althion say exactly what we'll be fighting against?"

"No, he didn't" the elf replied, smiling to himself "But if this is indeed a rescue mission, we could be fighting anything."

"Did you hear something?" Jarek asked suddenly.

And with that something came whistling through the cold air. It was a volley of arrows.

"Ambush!" Torestorm shouted "Take cover!"

Using quick and agile movements, for which his race is known for, the elf managed to dodge out of the way. Lilly fell to her knees and ducked her head. Jarek however was not so lucky: an arrow buried itself in his shoulder. The tomb raider roared with pain.

"Jarek!" Lilly exclaimed "Hold still! I'll take care of that injury!"

"No time for that now!" Torestorm hissed. "We've got company!"

And then they came: Three pairs of red eyes advancing from the front and three more pairs of red eyes emerging from behind. The light from the lantern revealed green skin, small bodies and grins twisted with malevolence.

"Goblins," Jarek groaned. Forgetting his pain, he drew his blade. With a yell, he leapt into battle.

Lilly blinked but readied her staff.

"So you want a fight do you?" she growled at the green-skins.

The nearest goblin thrust its crude but wicked looking spear in Jarek's direction. Despite his injury, the tomb raider managed to evade this attack and charge into the green-skin. Jarek swung his sword in a wide arc and into the goblin's flesh. With a squeal of pain, the goblin looked on in horror as his spear arm was severed from the rest of his body. But it didn't have time to scream any further: The tomb raider backhanded the goblin across the face. The blow was done with such strength and force the goblin went crashing to the ground. And a nasty kick from Jarek's boot into the goblin's face finished the green-skin for good.

A second goblin advanced onto Jarek, his shield raised high. The tomb raider blinked before the arrow in his shoulder began throbbing with pain. Groaning, Jarek sank to his knees as the goblin before him continued to advance. Looking up, the tomb raider saw the crudely-made shield grow closer and closer. Groaning with pain, he formulated a desperate plan.

Reaching forward he grabbed the shield with his hands. Before the goblin knew what was happening, Jarek ripped it from the greenskins fingers. Jarek held the shield high for a split-second – before slamming it into the goblin's head. The goblin went down on his back. Seconds later, he then felt the tomb raider's blade drive itself deep into him.

Meanwhile, Lilly was facing a third goblin, her fingers gripped tightly around her staff. The greenskin grinned at her with evil red eyes and drove his spear forward. Reacting quickly, the priestess ducked down on her knees – and then she wielded her staff in a huge arc. The staff smashed into the goblin's feet and dislodging him, sending him crashing to the ground.

The goblin tried to get up but the priestess was already there before him. He then felt her boot crunching down between his legs. He screamed in pain. The goblin then felt the tip of the staff come battering down on his head before smashing his skull. He didn't feel it that time.

Elsewhere, Torestorm faced the remaining three goblins. He gripped his twin blades tightly and stepped forward.

And then he became a blur. Torestorm charged into the goblins with his blades carving deadly figures of eight. Utilising the speed elves are known for, he sliced through them at such a rate that the goblins didn't know what was happening. One minute the elf was there and the next he wasn't.

And then, Torestorm reappeared. He was behind the goblins, his back to them, on one knee and with his twin blades spread outward. And in the blink of an eye, the three goblins fell to the floor, each coughing up blood in their dying moments.

The elf then looked up to see the six dead goblins along with Lilly who was already attending to the wounded Jarek.

"Hmmm," he said "Seems you've done well."

Jarek looked up at him and forced a smile.

"Shall we continue then?"


After some time, the three mercenaries found themselves at a door.

Lilly reached for the handle when suddenly the quiet air was split by a raging din. It was the sound of a ferocious beast, the type that didn't take too kindly to being imprisoned.

Immediately all was silent.

They exchanged bewildered glances.

"….what was that?" Jarek murmured.

"You don't suppose that was this Alabern?" Lilly asked.

Torestorm leant forward and put his ear to the door. From the other side he could hear the sound of something snorting its contempt and striking the flagstones.

But the striking sound was distinctive – there was only one thing that could produce that sound.

Immediately the elf's face hardened.

"What's the matter?" Jarek asked "Can you hear something?"

"Lilly, I think you may be right" the elf said slowly "I think we may have found exactly what we've been looking for."

And with that, he opened the door, to reveal a dirty room.

And there, in the corner, stood what looked like a magnificent horse, sporting a glorious silver coat, a rich, golden mane and a large horn protruding from its forehead. Yet in spite of appearances, its hooves were stamping the flagstones and its eyes were wild and confused.

The comrades were awestruck.

"A unicorn…." Lilly gasped. "As I live and breathe…"

"So this is Alabern?" Torestorm said with astonishment, and eyes widened.

Jarek blinked but then he grinned.

"Now this is a treasure worth entering a goblin cave for," he said, before advancing towards the unicorn.

"Wait!" Torestorm yelled "Jarek! Don't!"

But the tomb raider refused to listen. Instead he kept walking.

"If the legends are true," Jarek mused "Then this beast has led a long life. Just think of how many people will be willing to pay for a steed such as this…"

Jarek was only within a foot of the unicorn when it happened. The unicorn gave him a look of contempt and let out an angry snort. Then, with a ferocious snorting bay, it reared up on its hind legs, front legs kicking out towards the man. Jarek blinked in horror – before the legs, and hooves, came smashing down on his shoulders, knocking him off to the floor. The tomb raider now found himself pinned to the flagstones, the hooves of an angry unicorn keeping him in check. Jarek shrieked in fear and held his hands up to, no matter how pitifully, defend himself from the unicorn's vengeance.

Lilly then turned to Torestorm.

"Do something!" She wailed.

"Why are you asking me?" The answer is obvious, he thought to himself.

"You're an elf right? You're good with horses!"

Torestorm nodded. He then moved forward, fixing the unicorn with a hard, unflinching gaze.

The unicorn looked up with an angry stare – but one that was tempered with age and wisdom. Meeting the elf's eyes, he sensed another soul, one who was also of an elder race. One who was not a greedy human, or an uncouth goblin but someone worthy of a mutual understanding.

Sensing the unicorn's attention and a sense of calm pervading through the anger, Torestorm bowed before the beast.

And then the unicorn came to standstill. His hooves stopped trying to strike Jarek and all sense of rage disappeared from its eyes. Then, he began to move. With the clip-clopping of hooves upon the flagstones, the unicorn made his way across around the rim of the cave. Torestorm watched the beast move with every step of the way, whilst Lilly made her way to the still-prone Jarek.

The unicorn made his way to the doorway. But before he stepped through, he turned back towards Torestorm.

Thank you for saving me. You have my gratitude, whispered a voice from within the elf's mind.

And with that, Alabern headed out of the cavern and to freedom.

Torestorm watched him disappear into the darkness, before turning to Jarek.

"Is he all right?" He asked Lilly.

"Just a lot of cuts and bruises but he'll be fine," came the reply "I thought horses' hooves could do more than that."

"True but wasn't just any horse. He could easily have done more damage, if he so chose." Torestorm mused.

"Dammit!" Jarek groaned "You're letting that thing go? It tried to kill me!"

"Well, that's what happens when you show disrespect," the elf grinned.


By mid-afternoon, the three had returned to Weissbruck. The journey back was a quiet one: Jarek was still nursing his injuries but was dejected: not just finding any treasure but the thought of letting that unicorn go. Torestorm was also looking rather solemn – it seemed that Althion was a powerful elf indeed and not one that should be trifled with. Only Lilly seemed glad to be out of the dungeon and still alive.

For now, they had returned to the building that appeared to serve as the headquarters of the Starlight Guardians. They were waiting in a room that resembled a barracks, upon instructions to wait here for their employer.

Jarek still seemed hit hard by his loss but at the same time he seemed somewhat eager – no doubt the idea of being paid for his efforts held some appeal. Torestorm on the other hand seemed on edge. Lilly also looked glum – her brow furrowing at the grim mood about.

She cleared her throat and turned to the elf.

"Torestorm?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Where do you think Alabern went to?"

"Unicorns are an intelligent species and extremely loyal," the elf replied. "It is likely that it went far away from human interference."

A brief silence followed.

"What do you think Althion will have us do next?"

"Now that is a good question…." Jarek muttered.

Torestorm smiled.

Just then the door opened and they snapped to attention. Althion entered the room. However he was not alone: he came accompanied by a man: One who bore a droopy moustache, was dressed in leathers and fur, and carried a nasty looking crossbow in his hand. This man had a facial expression that bore signs of being in many a battle and a gaze that would make an ogre cower in fear.

The three mercenaries blinked at the newcomer, transfixed by his cruel gaze.

But if the man noticed he certainly didn't show it.

Althion cleared his throat.

"I must congratulate you all." he said. "You have all done very well."

"Alabern….?" Lilly started.

"He returned to me earlier this afternoon." the elf smiled "Unharmed and in good health. He wasn't too impressed with all of his rescuers however."

Jarek grimaced but said nothing.

"Now, you'll all be paid well for this task," the mage said "But first there is someone I'd like you to meet."

He motioned for the man with the crossbow to step forward.

"This is a warrior from Kislev." Althion went on "his name is Dimitri Shandrikova…"