House Ambry
The Lycan sprinted tirelessly across the darkened forest; plants, small nocturnal animals and in some cases – young trees, were either trampled underfoot or were violently shoved out of the wolf-man's way. Banehallow had just shifted out of his wolfish form a few hours ago to conserve his strength and energy, but he found out a tad bit late that the princess and her mount had already lagged far out of his sight. However, he could still faintly detect Mirana's particular scent – one that reeked of aromatic, perfumatory fragrance and fine, silken cloth – amongst the wilderness that surrounded her position.
Deciding that the distance he'd travelled was far off enough, Banehallow slowly ceased running – his sprint devolving into to a brisk march. By the time he had fully halted, he was surrounded by an even thicker undergrowth of wild forest vegetation. Colossal trees of different thicknesses overwhelmingly dominated his environment, and the only scents he could pick up that didn't belong to animals were Mirana's and his own.
Without pausing for breath, Banehallow put his travelling satchel down leaning against a tree and took the rifle he used for self-defense and his means of hunting in lieu of his old steel claws (a part of Banehallow's changes to better suit his more civilized environment was to abandon his usual form of combat in exchange for the most popular one around: marksmanship) by the strap from his shoulder and into his grip, adopting the stance of a practiced rifleman. He swiftly went about, deeper into the woods with the goal of finding a source of nourishment for the night set firmly in his mind as his most important objective.
However, unbeknownst to the Lycan, a shadowy figure watched him from above the trees with a pair of maddened, glowing yellow eyes. The figure twitched and fidgeted as it observed through the spiked red mask it wore – eternally scowling as if it was in a constant state of rage, driven by insanity.
...
Nightsilver/House Ambry
"You think he sees us?" Mirana asked her mount as they held themselves in the shadows of the trees around them. Just several meters to the front was Banehallow, seated upon a fallen log and basking in the glow of the little campfire he just made. His satchel and rifle were neatly leaning side-by-side against a nearby tree.
Sagan gave a tired grumble as he pawed at the soil under him.
"Yes, that'd make sense. He's a Lycan after all; he could probably smell us from here." Mirana said, weighing in the pros and cons of having Sagan jump near Banehallow, surprising him. It should be his appropriate punishment for shifting into wolf form and leaving the Nightsilvian pair far behind.
"Well, like mother always said: 'nothing ventured, nothing gained'. Are you ready?" Mirana ran a hand on Sagan's head.
Sagan only gave a low, quiet howl in negative. The Nightsilvian tiger had enough of carrying his owner and her luggage around, only for Mirana to order him to make one of his infamous leaps. He was already on the verge of collapsing as it is.
"Oh come on, Sagan. Banehallow isn't that scary, he's just a big, smelly mutt in the form of a human." The princess assured her mount. "Not so different from the feral ones you chase back into the wilderness in Nightsil—."
"I can hear you from out there, you know." Banehallow suddenly called out. "There's no use trying to hide from me; I've already picked up your scents long before you even reached me."
Damn. Mirana resisted the urge to introduce her palm to her face in annoyance. Banehallow was an even better bloodhound than she had previously thought. "Well, there goes our plan. Let's go and set ourselves a camp with Banehallow, Sagan."
The white tiger gave a snort of amusement. He'd rather just lie down all day than put up with the princess' shenanigans. Without much ado, Mirana and her mount left their hiding place and to Banehallow.
By the time Mirana had dismounted Sagan, set up her tent and supplies where she wanted them and strode off to her only (partly) human company, he was already examining a rather large and excessively thick rune-inscribed tome of Cyrillia's locations. Despite having spent the majority of the week blazing through countless kilometers, Banehallow didn't even look spent in the slightest.
"So, where are we now?" The princess asked the Lycan, as she took her place near the campfire, opposite to where he sat.
On a typical day, Mirana and Sagan lagged too far behind Banehallow for them to reach the place where the Slomite settled down to rest for the night, but today was an easy day for the Nightsilvian pair; the forested trail they covered was much less troublesome for them to cross unlike the first week of the journey to Lyonhall, where the trail covered swamps and lengthy distances that consisted of nothing but mountainous paths and shallow bodies of water. This is the first time in her journey that Mirana actually had Banehallow for company.
The princess looked around the campsite and saw that unlike herself, the Lycan didn't bother to set up his own tent for the night. It was very likely that he didn't even take the effort of bringing in a tent for the journey. However, Mirana remembered that she had Sagan to carry her supplies and equipment; Banehallow only had his own strength to rely on.
"Apparently, we're in the Vreht Krylerk woodlands." Banehallow answered offhandedly. He scoffed, impressed. "Almost three weeks of travelling, and we've made even better progress than I'd hoped. I'm pleased with the distance we've crossed so far."
Banehallow turned his gaze from his tome and to Mirana. Instead of sharing the same enthusiasm as him, he found that the princess was only giving him a blank stare.
"Where did you say we were?" She asked again, to Banehallow's irritation.
"The Vreht Krylerk woods. Do you need me to say it again?" He inquired wryly.
Mirana snapped out of her trance and regarded the Lycan with an exasperated look. "Look, this is serious, von Ambry. 'Vreht Krylerk' isn't just a name some inbred, tree-chopping hick thought up while blasted drunk – it's a goddess-damned drowish name."
The Lycan scrunched up his features in confusion for a fleeting moment, before realization came upon him. "Huh, so we're in drow territory, then. I'd not worry about them too much; they generally leave travellers alone if they don't cause trouble. In case that's not enough for you, surely you must remember that at one point, we used to be Heroes. I believe we can take on this whole forest's worth of drow without much difficulty... together, of course."
Mirana shook her head in frustration. "I'm not worried about anything. There aren't any drow here, but there is one drowfolk-affiliated acquaintance of mine who took residence in this forest some time after the Radiant-Dire conflict. In fact, I don't doubt that she's watching us at this moment from atop the trees."
Banehallow frowned, once again confused. "I don't get where you're playing at, princess. I haven't been around you long enough to know your full repertoire of insane friends."
The princess, despite trying actively not to, groaned in a very un-royal-like way. "Ye gods, Banehallow! Do I seriously have to spell it out for you? This is Traxex's fores—"
A frozen arrow scored a direct hit and promptly froze up the campfire, snuffing out the only source of light in Banehallow and Mirana's location. The Lycan and the princess jumped out of their seats and tensed up for combat.
"That's one of her arrows – she's attacking us!" Mirana, in outraged disbelief, shouted at Banehallow. "Why in Mene's name is she attacking us?! We're on her side!"
Another frozen arrow came whizzing in the air, in a collision course with Banehallow's head. Fortunately, with the Lycan's enhanced senses, he was able to block the projectile's path with the tome he was holding just in time. Indeed, the book was so lengthy, that the arrow didn't even go through it, only succeeding in encasing it in ice and chilling the Lycan's fingers.
There are only a few handful of people in all of Cyrillia that Banehallow knew about who had the skills to harness ice and use it to give their weapons a freezing edge – the most dangerous and most prominent among them being Traxex, the Drow Ranger.
Back in his days under the ranks of the Dire, it was often him who was selected by the Dire Ancient itself to seek out and hunt down the Drow Ranger whenever she was sighted within the Radiant Heroes' attacking party. With his monstrous abilities as a Lycan and his terrifyingly fast pace in wolf form, Banehallow was a true nightmare for Traxex to encounter back in the day. He was a perfect counter to the Drow Ranger, and the Dire Ancient was quick to capitalize on that. More than a few times did Banehallow nearly succeed in killing off Traxex, but every time, she managed to evade him. As he could recall, he gave her quite a phobia of wolves; so much so that he heard that Traxex even avoided anything colored with red, black, white and orange hues whenever she could.
"Huh, Traxex." He chimed in, calmly discarding the frosty book from his clutches. "I haven't really gotten the pleasure of acquainting myself with her," In a hushed tone, the Lycan said, "In person, not in combat, mind you," He adopted his normal, Slomite-accented tone once more. "But I think I never will, given her current attitude towards us."
"Now's not the time for this, Banehallow!" The princess scolded the Lycan harshly. "Find some cover; don't get caught out in the open! The Drow Ranger never misses!"
As if in response to Mirana's statement, another arrow sped its way towards her. Easily, the princess anticipated the projectile and moved out of its way. "This is an outrage! That blasted ranger tried to shoot me!" She exclaimed with great indignation.
"Yes, I can see that. And I think that's a miss, right there." Banehallow dryly quipped. "Is our assailant really even the Drow Ranger? This archer uses a bow more like the Windranger – rapidly and with little care." He placed himself against a tree, after deftly avoiding yet another frost arrow heading for him.
Conveniently for Banehallow, the same tree he used as cover was the one he leaned his travelling satchel on, and standing next to that satchel was his rifle. Snatching the firearm from its resting place, Banehallow took a spare cartridge from his long coat and loaded it into his weapon, which gave a sharp, metallic click in response.
"I'm not sure!" Mirana responded, after she had taken cover. A few seconds passed before she beckoned for her mount, and Sagan came as fast as he could. "Damn it! Split up and find that archer!" She mounted the tiger before ushering him into the woods, in pursuit of the source of the arrows.
Banehallow was left all by himself. "Alright!" He called out to the princess in the distance. He knew that doing so also had the disadvantage of letting the hostile archer know about his position. "Don't call out for me, I can find you myself!"
Silence answered the Lycan. He hoped that the princess heard. Then, just as he had expected, another arrow came heading for him. Banehallow ducked down and heard the resounding thud of an arrow hastily released from its bow imbedding itself on the wood just above his head.
"Wolf's blood." Banehallow breathed out when he saw the arrow that nearly pierced through his head. I need to end this quickly.
...
House Ambry
Silently crawling on the ground and under the cover of a fallen tree, Banehallow scanned his surroundings with his wolfish senses for any signs of his attacker. To his continued exasperation, he could only ever detect the princess and her mount, which moved in erratic, inconsistent patterns as they tried to find the hidden archer.
Looks like I'll have to do this the inconvenient way. Banehallow shrugged his shoulders and slung his rifle over his shoulder. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Accompanied by a blinding flash of red and orange, the Lycan assumed his wolf form, before summoning two canine familiars to aid him in his next move.
Immediately, Banehallow loped out of cover and into the open on all fours, along with his familiars. He didn't plan on going anywhere, and had also ordered the familiars to take random directions to run to. He just wanted to know where exactly did the arrows came from.
Almost immediately, a veritable shower of hastily released arrows fell upon Banehallow and his wolves. The two wolves evaded the arrows by the virtue of being incredibly fast, but some arrows have managed to find their mark on Banehallow's hide, thanks to his large profile. To his surprise, they did not wound him as much as he expected, but they still hurt nonetheless. The hidden archer was clearly sacrificing power and precision for a greater frequency of arrows released.
Finally, after a few agonizing moments of running aimlessly, Banehallow spotted a faint gleam coming from above the trees. There was something up there, and he was quite sure the trees here aren't made out of light-reflecting material.
Abruptly changing direction, Banehallow sprinted straight for the trees, intending to climb the one where he spotted the gleam was coming from; his two wolf familiars had used up their last remaining moments in the material world trying to disorientate the archer before they were both put down by the sheer amount of arrows raining on them. The archer seemed to be caught by surprise, seeing the werewolf shifting his path so swiftly. Gratefully, the Lycan saw that the rapid hail of arrows on his position had slowed down in frequency to a tedious crawl.
Using his wolf form's claws to gradually pull himself up on the tree he had chosen, Banehallow snarled and grunted as he rapidly ascended. It wasn't long before he reached the tallest branch, and he willed himself back to his human form, after disposing of the arrows stuck to his hide. After all, moving across the branches in wolf form is neither the safest nor most subtle way for Banehallow to locate the archer.
As the Lycan carefully jumped from branch to branch in search of the unknown assailant, he couldn't help but notice that his senses were starting to detect an unknown presence lurking within his area. Surely, that must be the archer.
A few more minutes of moving, and Banehallow could now pinpoint a clear location of the archer, along with her gender, general disposition and true identity. She gave off a faint, oddly chilling odor of pine and leather, in addition to a strong, overpowering scent of soap. Soap, Banehallow thought. A wolfish smirk graced his lips. He remembered this scent well. The drow are famed soapmakers. Oh, this is definitely her.
Once Banehallow approached Traxex's position further closer, he was unprepared for what he had sensed. There was something wrong and deeply disturbing about the new scents he picked up coming from the Drow Ranger. Instead of sensing the usual calm alertness he could commonly sense amongst capable rangers like the one he was tracking, Banehallow could detect alarming amounts of panic and fear wafting off of Traxex. Normally, he could only detect small traces of apprehension whenever he tried to hunt down the Drow Ranger, but this time, such was the amount of terror he could sense, that Banehallow was completely at a loss at how Traxex hadn't suffered a heart attack and fallen down from her hiding place out of sheer terror yet.
However, the excess amount of dread coming from the archer wasn't what truly set the Lycan on edge. It was that despite the archer's very obvious terror-stricken state, he could also sense that she was in a state of terrifyingly overpowering fury. In fact, such was the anger that wafted off the archer's form, that Banehallow was struck numb when waves of tangible fury washed upon him like tidal waves upon a fragile seawall. It took him several seconds to regain focus, inwardly expressing his contempt for his curse for giving him the ability to sense what normal people could not, and for not giving him an option to turn this ability off.
Suddenly, as Banehallow crept across a particular branch, he noticed that it was subtly quivering for some reason, despite the fact that there isn't any wind tonight. He tried to sense Traxex again, and found that he was now practically next to her in distance. Quietly as he could, Banehallow left the branch he was standing on and took the other one adjacent to it. Moving forwards and rounding about a tree in his path, the Lycan sighted the archer, who had her back to him.
Taking a closer look at the oblivious Drow Ranger, Banehallow noted that there were dark red spikes sticking out of her head, and she was very noticeably twitching and shuddering, despite the fairly temperate climate of the forest at night. Preparing himself to make his attack, the Lycan slowly crept towards the archer, rifle in hand.
Unfortunately, one slight noise made by his coat brushing against a wayward leaved branch from under him was enough for Banehallow's quarry to spin around and regard him with those monstrous yellow orbs she had for eyes.
For a moment, the Lycan was struck immobile with primal fear as he beheld the sheer grotesqueness of the red mask Traxex wore upon her face. That moment did not last long, however, as the Drow Ranger was already halfway through releasing a series of arrows at Banehallow by the time he snapped out of it.
He raised his rifle to fire, but he was too late to move out of the way of a frozen arrow that she unleashed at him. Grunting in pain as the arrow lodged itself on his shoulder and coated the area around it with magical frost, Banehallow didn't take much time to recover and take careful aim of the archer before pulling back the trigger.
Traxex was struck by the bullet squarely in the chest. She didn't give a yelp of pain to indicate that Banehallow's aim was spot on; she instead slumped down on the branch she was standing on before slowly sliding down and falling.
The Lycan wasn't as severely injured, but he felt obligated to see if blood was on his hands once more this night. After getting rid of the arrow and the ice on his shoulder, Banehallow slowly and carefully made his way down from the trees. Unfortunately, he wasn't prepared in the slightest when the branch he tried to set his foot down on collapsed from under him.
...
Nightsilver/House Ambry
"Stay alert, Sagan." Mirana muttered as she kept her mounted bow primed to release a giant arrow blessed by the lunar goddess herself. "Don't lower your guard, even for one sec—"
A sharp, thundering bark of a firearm in the silent, distant woods interrupted the princess and forced a surprised growl from Sagan.
He found our attacker! Mirana ushered her mount to face the direction of the noise. "Quickly, follow that sound, Sagan!"
Once Mirana and her mount reached the source of the shot, they came upon the body of a caped figure – clad in dark blue leather armor decorated in drowish livery and suited for the cruel hinterlands – lying face down on the ground, her cape covering most of her form. A few meters away from the figure was a frontiersman's rifle, its barrel end still emitting powder smoke from a very recent discharge.
"Princess, up here." A sudden voice from above the two Nightsilvians startled the princess. She looked up and found Banehallow, hanging upside-down with his legs and his boots tangled by a gnarled, crooked branch.
Mirana sighed as the Lycan tried to move his lower body to dislodge himself, but failed. She noticed that if he fell from the height he was hanging from, he will surely be left with his limbs twisted in unnatural angles at the very least, so shifting into wolf form isn't an option for Banehallow.
Reluctantly, Mirana dismounted from her tiger. "Sagan, can you retrieve our Lycan from that tree?" She requested as she made her way to their assailant's limp form.
Instantly, Banehallow objected. "Now, wait a minute, Mirana. I don't think that's the best way to—"
Sagan reared on his hind legs in preparation for a jump.
"No! Don't you dare try and take me from this tree you damned dirty—"
The Lycan's frantic pleas went unheeded by a very uncaring Sagan.
Meanwhile, with an arrow tightly nocked against her bow, and with the bow itself pointed straight at the fallen archer's form, the princess slowly stalked forwards. Once she was at a close enough distance to reach the archer, she slowly put a hand on her shoulderpad and turned her over. Mirana was completely taken by surprise when the archer suddenly bolted upright and struck her with a quick swipe of her bow, sending her staggering back.
With her view on the archer cleared up by the moonlight above, Mirana could now get a detailed look on her opponent. As was the princess' fears, the archer was indeed Traxex the Drow Ranger, but over her face was a monstrous red mask that seemed to give her eyes a bright yellow glow. Traxex didn't even give Mirana a few seconds to stand agape in shock at her appearance as she quickly rushed the princess, intending to impale her with the steel spikes on the edges of her bow.
Under most circumstances, Traxex would back away and use the range advantage presented by her bow, not charge in at her opponents using her emergency weapon, as Mirana remembered from her tenure with the Heroes. Surely, the mask the Drow Ranger was wearing must be the object responsible for the events tonight. In fact, the princess could remember hearing about this sort of mask from the Sylvan Guard delegates she crossed paths with in the past if she thought hard about it.
However, Mirana was given no time to dwell upon the nature of the mask her fallen comrade wore, as she was beset by a swift flurry of stabs and slashes. Nimbly dodging Traxex's strikes, the princess hoped that she could find a way to snap the Drow Ranger out of her maddened state.
Banehallow had just stood up to his feet after being 'retrieved' from his tangled position above the trees by Sagan, when he turned and caught sight of the princess engaged in melee combat with the masked Traxex. He observed that Mirana had little trouble trying to evade her opponent's clumsy, ill-executed swings, but the princess seemed to be restraining herself from retaliating with her own attacks, lest she should harm one of her old allies. Fortunately for everyone, Banehallow didn't consider the Drow Ranger an ally at any point before, only as prey.
Stealthily making his way to the back of the scuffle, to the crazed Traxex's rear flank, Banehallow readied his rifle. By the time he was in position, he had a clear view of the target, and a mostly fresh cartridge was still loaded in his firearm. He was about to take aim and put down the archer, when he saw the worried, pleading look on Mirana's face as she ducked, sidestepped and jumped out of the way of Traxex's attacks. She was wordlessly beseeching the Lycan not to do what he was about to do.
Banehallow grimaced. You're getting soft, a voice in his mind told him. You've all but hated royalty, but just a single look from her and you'll do what you're told. Like the good lapdog you've always been.
Angrily vanquishing the voice in his head, Banehallow soundlessly stalked forwards, behind the Drow Ranger. Rearing his rifle back, he viciously bashed the wooden stock at the back of Traxex's hooded head, putting all of his strength into his blow. As a consequence, Traxex was instantly on the ground, driven to unconsciousness almost instantly at the sheer force of the blow that Banehallow delivered.
"There." The Lycan said. Defiant to the stern glare the princess was giving him. "I didn't shoot her."
"Yes, but you might as well have – what with the amount of force you put into that strike." Came Mirana's harsh rejoinder. She looked down at Traxex's body and gasped. "Look at her hood; her head's starting to bleed! Come on, we need to get this treated!"
Banehallow looked down as well, and was suddenly filled with regret upon seeing what he had done. Regret? He asked himself. Until now, Banehallow did not feel an ounce of remorse over his less-than-ethical actions before his defection. He remembered all the innocents he'd killed or maimed horribly, and he even remembered clawing out one of the Windranger's eyes, but he felt not one pang of guilt each time.
Sighing, the Lycan slung his rifle over his shoulder. Wolf's blood, I am getting soft. "I've got medical supplies inside my satchel. It should take a few salves and some bandages to stabilize your friend's condition."
Mirana had already pulled down Traxex's hood and was busy tryng to remove the strange mask she donned. "Well, don't just stand there! Get going!"
...
Vreht Krylerk
Traxex could scarcely recall her excitement upon discovering a Sylvan Guard reliquary hidden deep underground in a secluded corner of the woods. Though, she found it strange that none of the guardsmen were presently standing watch over the repository, her eagerness to investigate an area revered by her favorite group of rangers was too overpowering for the more rational part of her telling her to instead turn back and wait until the reliquary's guards appear.
As silent as the halls of Aeol Drias, the Drow Ranger slid through the trees, making her way to the entrance of the reliquary, the only part of it that's visible in the surface. She noted that there was a sign attached to the gates to the underground building, but it had since been significantly eroded by a combination of the weather and the local wildlife. Nevertheless, the sign was clear enough for Traxex's keen eyes to discern that it once functioned as both a warning to those who entered the reliquary, and a sealing rune to keep the gates it hung upon securely shut.
Smiling at her fortune upon determining that the seal was dispelled long ago, Traxex all but threw herself into the reliquary. However, the sight that greeted the Drow Ranger upon entering would be the subject of her nightmares for months on end.
The reliquary was indeed filled with more than enough artifacts to fill a whole group of museums dedicated to the Sylvan Guard, but at the floor were dozens upon dozens of dead prospectors, as indicated by the relic-hunting gear they wore. Most of them had already decomposed into skeletons, but some of the corpses are still quite fresh, while dried blood caked the walls and the floor. Closer inspection of the interiors of the reliquary from Traxex revealed that the bodies were apparently the work of the triggered death-traps that lined every corner of the reliquary.
Making her way further into the underground building while trying her best to avoid triggering traps, Traxex eventually reached the end of the reliquary, where a strange red mask sat upon a ruined pedestal. Seeing the amount of dead bodies just lying below the pedestal would've been enough to discourage Traxex from getting closer to the mask, but there was a strange force that compelled her to move closer to it.
Traxex reached the pedestal and studied the mask with unabashed curiosity. It didn't take long for the Drow Ranger's infamous kleptomania to take effect, making her gradually decide to take the mask from its place. Placing the scowling visage upon her face, the last thing that Traxex remembered of being in a relatively stable state of mind was the feeling of intense fear and fury upon donning the mask. The process was extremely painful to experience, but it was a good pain.
Long before Traxex had even heard of the Sylvan Guard reliquary, there had been whispers going around in her mind – too unclear and distorted for even the Drow Ranger to decipher. But with the red mask in her possession, the whispers spoke much more clearly now. They told her to kill, and with little hesitation, killed she had. Why does she need to kill, she asked them once. They answered by telling her to kill some more, for killing is its own reward; violence is the only refuge in a pointless, insane world of excruciating solidarity and cruelty. Yes, the voices were always so truthful! Traxex wouldn't dream of thinking that they'll lead her astray.
Sanity is indeed for the weak.
Then, the voices abruptly lost clarity before degenerating into distorted whispers once more. Traxex felt a searing pain in her chest – one that indicated that a projectile had lodged itself into her. Soon after, a vicious force slammed onto the back of her head, knocking her into sleep almost instantly. Now, she felt that her consciousness was slowly returning.
Without opening her eyes, the Drow Ranger propped herself up to a sitting position, leaning her back on a soft, fluffy surface. Her head felt heavy as the surface growled at her.
Her eyes snapping open, Traxex jumped back from the creature behind her. She tried to reach for her bow, but it wasn't on her person anymore. To her surprise, the white tiger only glared at her before lying back down slowly.
Why is there a Nightsilvian tiger all the way out here? Traxex asked herself. Then she noticed the bags and archery equipment it was carrying. This one's domesticated, she thought.
It was right then that Traxex recognized the tiger as Princess Mirana's personal mount, Sagan, as she remembered. She turned to look at her surroundings and was even more perplexed to find herself in a small campsite, with the campfire in the center still burning brightly. Just as she was about to ponder on as to why the Princess of the Moon and a few others were inside her forest, the sounds of footsteps entered the Drow Ranger's hearing.
Putting herself out of sight behind cover, Traxex spied a heavily-built man dressed in a hunter's garb approaching the camp with two wolves following him close behind. He carried a dead deer over his shoulders and had a rifle strapped to his back. For some reason, his eyes seemed to give off a faint yellowish glow; it was noticeable enough even in the daylight.
After dumping the deer corpse on a log, the man made his way to a rather large tent – one large enough to comfortably house three people. He kicked at one of the stakes securing the tent to the ground. "Princess, I've got the venison you wanted. Do you need me to give your pet a bath, too?" The man's voice was sarcastic, but Traxex could detect some melancholy in his tone.
Not long after, Princess Mirana stepped out of the tent. Unlike the man, she was robed in regal attire, which was strangely unmarred by foreign substances that indicated that she navigated the way from the Nightsilver Woods to the Vreht Krylerk Woodlands on foot. "Just throw Sagan the deer, Lycan. And be quick; I told him to guard Traxex, and he didn't look very happy about it. Breakfast should change his mind."
While Traxex was touched that at least somebody in the world provided concerns about her well-being, she couldn't help but feel nervous upon learning that the man she sighted was actually Banehallow of Ambry himself. Back then, during Traxex's employment under the Radiant, the Lycan was the single worst adversary Traxex could ever have. He completely shrugged off her frosted arrows while in wolf form, and drove such fear into her heart, that the strength of her arrows faltered against him whenever he got close to her. Whenever she got word that the Lycan was dispatched to hunt her down, Traxex would pull all stops in order to evade Banehallow, for she knew that once he reached his prey, her death would be just as clean as being turned inside out by Lion's dreaded finger of death.
However, Traxex was also one of the last of the Heroes to know that Banehallow switched sides just as the conflict flared up to a true war in proportion. She hadn't had the opportunity to work with him against his former allies, not at any point. Naturally, the Drow Ranger thoroughly loathed the Lycan even after he fought a significant amount of skirmishes in service of the Radiant; she warned her allies that treachery was in play, and betrayal was all but inevitable.
But in the end, her fears didn't materialize. Banehallow strangely stood loyal to the Radiant until the day the Dire Ancient was destroyed. The Heroes then promptly went their separate ways, and Traxex would soon learn to forget about her fears and continue on with her life.
Now, that fear returned to her life, right at her forest and surprisingly looking a lot less feral and unkempt – within the company of the Princess of the Moon herself, no less.
A subdued chuckle from the Lycan snapped Traxex out of her thoughts. She shook her head and focused her sights back to the two Heroes. Banehallow was now walking out of the camp, while Mirana looked on as the Lycan walked away with a slightly amused expression on her face. It was clear to Traxex that the princess at least possessed some degree of trust on the Slomite, for she was not unsettled at his presence, nor was she even slightly hostile to him.
"Traxex?" Mirana called out all of the sudden.
The Drow Ranger's body was struck frozen from her hiding place.
"The Lycan has just left the camp, if you feel uncomfortable in his presence," The princess continued, looking at her surroundings as if she knew Traxex was watching her. "Come out, we need a bit of a talk about yesterday night's... events."
...
Nightsilver/Vreht Krylerk/House Ambry
Mirana watched as Traxex revealed herself from the undergrowth, effortlessly materializing out of the trees as if she had been a natural part of the forest all along. Given the brown and green colors of the Vreht Krylerk woodlands in the daylight and how they contrasted with Traxex's choice of clothing, the princess thought that the Drow Ranger must've held a phenomenal degree of skill at concealing herself at any sort of environment.
"How... how did you know?" In a quiet, oft-unspoken voice, Traxex inquired as she slowly approached Mirana.
Mirana gave a friendly smile to her fellow Hero. It's been too long since she was in the company of an archer just as skilled as herself. "Not me, I'm not a tracker at any rate. On the other hand, Banehallow makes for a good bloodhound; he can detect any living thing within a thousand meter radius."
"I think I know about that little detail all too well." Traxex spoke with consternation. She tried to speak about what happened while she was knocked unconscious, when she winced; suddenly becoming aware of the painful waves at the back of her head and her chest.
The princess was at her side at an instant. "Damn that Lycan. He did this to you last night, but... at least we can be thankful that he didn't kill you. He certainly had plenty of opportunities to do just that, but he stayed his hand..."
"...Well, you were trying to kill us last night, for some reason." With uncertainty, Mirana added.
Traxex grimaced as she felt around her chest wound. "I don't remember that," She said, as plain as she could. Unconsciously, her hand went up to her face to pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "Actually, I can't remember anything after I got hold of that... mask..."
Traxex felt around her face frantically, before the realization that said mask wasn't on her face anymore came upon her. Thinking about it, she could only barely hear the voices in her head anymore. She looked to Mirana with an inquiring look.
Mirana's features livened up. "That mask you were talking about... do you know anything about it, by any chance?"
The Drow Ranger shook her head. "I didn't even know it was there when I blundered upon it inside a Sylvan Guard reliquary."
"Well, this might take a while," The princess said. "I think we should find ourselves some seats first. Or wooden stumps. Or logs. Whatever works."
By the time the two Radiant archers were seated on their positions and facing each other, Traxex was already feeling a lot better than before. Feeling the characteristic soothing feel of a healing salve on her wounds, she asked, "How many salves did you use on me?"
"About three. Your metabolism works faster than average." A gruff, Slomite voice answered. Mirana watched with apprehension as Traxex's form tensed up for combat on instinct, but her wounds held her body down.
"Traxex, Princess." Banehallow nonchalantly greeted as he strode past the two Heroes, towards a pile of rifle cartridges. He took a few of the cartridges, stuffed them down his coat and turned to leave the camp again. Before he left, however, he looked to the Drow Ranger.
"That shot I took at you was necessary. That blow to your head was also necessary, but I was too harsh. For that, I'm sorry." With that said, the Lycan promptly took off and left the camp, leaving a bewildered Mirana and Traxex.
"You know, I think Banehallow's quite agreeable once you spend a bit of your time in his presence. You just have to learn to live with his incessant, annoying remarks." Mirana said with disdain, but with a look of slight amusement on her face. "But enough about him. How about we get started with yesterday's events, shall we?"
For the next several minutes, the princess did her best to inform the Drow Ranger of what exactly happened last night. On her part, Traxex was deeply disturbed that she tried to kill the two travelling Heroes seemingly on impulse, but she kept her feelings to herself.
"And I'm quite sure you weren't even thinking by your own accord," Mirana continued. "That mask you wore... I've heard of it before ー a Sylvan Guard representative once visited the Solar Throne to confer with my mother, the queen. I was still a little girl back then, but I can remember that the representative mentioned something about a lost relic just recently rediscovered called the 'Mania's Mask'. It was said that if a person wore the mask for an enough period of time, the mask would grant its wearer a permanent, irreversibly vicious form of psychosis, in exchange for a blissful existence as a slave to the mask, cheerfully obeying its whims without hesitation."
Mirana looked to her Radiant comrade with concern. "How long have you been wearing this mask?"
"I... I don't know how long I've had it," Traxex answered uncertainly. "I never once bothered to keep track of the months."
"Well, since you seem to behave normally when we took the mask off you, we can assume that you haven't been wearing it for long." Mirana replied. "Just try and stay away from the mask from now on, Traxex.
"I'll do my best." Traxex stood up and made her way to the center of the camp. "Have you gotten rid of the mask, yet? And where have you stored my belongings?"
The princess joined the Drow Ranger. "Not yet, I'm afraid. We were too busy trying to stabilize your condition last night to worry about the mask. As for your belongings, just to be safe, Banehallow stashed your bow and quiver somewhere outside the camp, in case you haven't returned to your senses once you come to. He should have them with him when he returns."
"Well, just let me have the mask." Traxex said, to Mirana's surprise. "I would like to destroy it myself."
"Alright, I'll get it for you then." Mirana said. "We'll leave in the next few minutes after packing our things up. I'll leave you some of my excess supplies, if you don't mind. I think I might have overpacked, anyways. Just look at poor Sagan over there."
Traxex nodded solemnly. Once again, she was being left. Alone. "Yes, it's been... good, seeing you again, Mirana. Though I'm not too sure about the Lycan, though."
The princess smiled. "So, what are you going to do now?"
"I've been asking myself the same question after we destroyed the Dire," Traxex bitterly answered. "I've done nothing but live– no, exist, here in the woods, doing nothing but stare at the sky and look down on Sylvan Guard patrols all day. I have no purpose, princess, and it's slowly driving me mad."
Mirana was thrown off-guard by Traxex's serious answer. She knew that the Drow Ranger was never the type to be cheerful, but she seemed a lot more down than usual. Perhaps her life of isolation had chipped away at her stoic demeanor at last.
"You know... Banehallow and I are on a journey to find some of our old friends in the Radiant; I'm after Luna, who had gone missing on a voyage to the Rishi Islands, and Banehallow is after Kunkka, who was the man in command of the ships Luna was in." The princess informed.
"If you say you have nothing better to do after we leave, If you'd like you could come with us. We could certainly use your—"
Traxex cut Mirana off with a wave of her hand. "Say no more. I'm with you."
Mirana blinked. "I... thought it'd take more to convince you, but..."
"Absolutely anything is better than wasting away in the Krylerk. Even if it's travelling with the Lycan for who knows how long. Where are we headed?"
"Banehallow is in charge of taking us to which direction to go to. Our destination is Lyonhall, to retrieve a certain Grand Magus. But I'm not sure which path we'll take next." Mirana answered. "Von Ambry should know."
As if on queue, the Lycan walked back into view. One familiar carried Traxex's bow in its jaws, while another had her quiver strapped to its body.
"Princess, we need to get moving again." Banehallow told Mirana once he reached her. "Come on, I'll help you pack up the... small town, you've established." He said, glancing at the princess' giant tent, her supplies and the multitude of bags strapped to Sagan.
"Hold on, Banehallow. If we pooled our supplies together, how many people can we sustain for the entirety of our journey?" Mirana asked.
Banehallow put a hand to his chin. "You brought enough food – which regrettably consisted mostly of herbs, vegetables and other useless things – to last an average, tree-hugging vegetarian several months of a dull and dreary continued existence. If I added to that with food that are actually worth eating, then I'd say we can feed six people with our supplies alone, including ourselves, for at least two months – three if we start rationing now." He answered. "And you're asking me this, why?"
Mirana looked to Traxex, and then to Banehallow. She smirked, giving everything Banehallow needed to know.
"Ah... so I see." Banehallow slowly uttered, looking quite surprised. "Mirana, your friend seems to have forgotten who I am. Are you sure she's willing to come with us – with me in her presence?"
"Oh, she hasn't forgotten about you, I'm quite sure." Mirana said, confidently. "Look, Traxex agreed to accompany us until we find Kunkka's flotilla. Turning down the help of such a phenomenal archer such as the Drow Ranger could only be foolish."
"I'm not afraid of you anymore, Lycan." Traxex said with conviction. "I'm a lot stronger than I once was."
Banehallow, with visible effort on his part, smiled. "It's only natural, Traxex. The prey survives being hunted by the predator, and in turn, learns to fear the predator no more. Regardless, I welcome you to our pack. I certainly hope that courage of yours holds up; we might be in for a fight or two." He then ordered his two familiars to return Traxex's belongings.
The Drow Ranger eyed the wolves suspiciously as she took her bow and quiver, but now that they were docile to her for once, to her horror, Traxex actually found the creatures to be ridiculously adorable. Experimentally, she patted one on the head after taking her quiver to give her thanks. The familiar promptly licked her face as a response.
Mirana burst out laughing, and Banehallow struggled not to do the same.
"Don't be taken by those large, beady black eyes, ranger." The Lycan warned, his tone not completely serious.
"My familiars may look harmless to you now, but underneath that weak exterior lies a powerful beast that could rip the spine from a man's back without much effort." He said, just as the wolves started to behave like puppies. "The wolves certainly don't appreciate it if you treat them like domesticated dogs. You'd best remember that." He continued talking, oblivious at how Traxex wasn't even paying attention to him anymore.
The princess crossed her arms and shook her head. She could only imagine with a smile how interesting the next few months could be like in the company of her fellow Heroes. Little by little, it started to feel like the defense of the Ancients again.
DC Draco: Well, I have doubts that Lina'd appear at some point, but I've plans for DK though. He's with CM and WR, on a mission on behalf of a kingdom.
Qwerty: Yes, Abaddon would be fine, but I have some really serious doubts about Nyx, partly because he's an insect and I hate him in-game (I use a lot of OD and NP), partly because he isn't even an individual, as he is his own caste in the Zealot Scarab species, and more importantly because I can't think of a reason as to why Nyx (the goddess) would like her most important worshipper to find and rescue the missing Heroes, which have no connection to Nyx Assassin's lore in any way.
Also, to further drive the point home, I'm planning on including Abaddon next in Lycan's team, and the Lord of Avernus hates Zealot Scarabs just as much as Tidehunter hates Kunkka, and vice-versa.
HS777: 1. Can't spoil anything, but KotL would only have a token appearance in this story. CK would be the only Fundamental with a respectable amount of screentime. 2. Once again, I give you my thanks for that. I'm pretty sure a couple of people from your own story passed by mine. 3. Rubick would be the last Hero picked up by Lycan and PotM, I'm afraid. 4. I haven't thought of that at first (I just liked using Lycan and Mirana in-game), but that actually sounds like a great idea, especially when combined their backgrounds. In fact, I might just implement that at some point. Thanks for that. 5. Sorry the chapter took too long.
Heavenian: Actually, the world of Dota (called Cyrillia here) extends further than just the Radiant-Dire conflict. And once the Heroes go outside their Ancients' sphere of influence, they do die permanently when they're struck down.
In the LoL world (called Runeterra in canon), there are fountains (called Summoning Platform), and the Champions revive there, but there is also a world outside the Fields of Justice, and once they die outside the Summoners' influence, they die permanently as well.
Basically dying hasn't changed in the slightest. In Cyrillia, if you die without an Ancient, you don't respawn. In Runeterra, if you die outside a Field of Justice, you don't respawn.
Also I can't spoil anything about Juggernaut's island. It's an important plot point in later chapters. On the subject of Juggernaut himself, he is stuck to cameo roles and passing mentions, unfortunately.
What do you mean I'm legit? I'm the goddamn Chaos Knight! Bow before my OP 4 second stuns and my 1600% critical damage!
PeddlerOfTales: Blink Dagger— AAAAUUGHHGAAHAAAUGHAWAAH!
Rakan-Han: Sorry the chapter took two months to write. There'd been unforeseen problems.
Josiah Jones: I aim to please. Thank you very much.
WxikkY: Hard to do that, I'm afraid. They won't interact well with LoL Champions and are only there to be 'unique', really. They might make cameos, though.
Rie Gonne: Here's a chapter for you. I hope it didn't take too long.
modeluchosen1: CK will be a central character. Being a fundamental, he is a planeswalker, after all. He'll make appearances later.
Isangtao: Thanks, this is the kind of review I like the most. Oh, and by the way, League of Legends is made to cater to audiences with slow computers much better than Dota 2, so chances are, if you can play Dota on your computer, you could probably play LoL much better on it. You just have to remember to set the settings to low. Also, you don't need to actually play LoL to know the lore. Everything you need to know about Runeterra and its denizens is on the wiki.
On the subject of CK, his appearance would not be as major as most hoped, as I only plan to include him as another character for Kunkka and his crew to interact with. I won't say much, but CK, in my plan for the plot, had already been to Runeterra countless of times, as it's his third favorite plane of existence because of all the chaos being sown there (his favorite plane is the Ruined Keep mentioned in one of his items, and his second most favorite being Cyrillia itself). Simply put, CK, along with KotL, has had a hand in shaping Runeterra's history, long before the Radiant-Dire conflict.
Whew, this chapter took heaps long to make. Anyways, now that we have an ADC for Lycan's team, we now need a support, and that support being Abaddon, the Lord of Avernus. Why Abaddon, you ask? Well, he's basically the Dire counterpart for the Omniknight, which is a strong enough reason in itself. Another reason being that I needed to include some Dire Heroes to balance things out. I can't portray the Radiant in too much of a positive light while neglecting their counterparts from the other side of the map, as some members of the Dire aren't actually actively doing evil things like, say, the demonic trio of Doom, SF and SD.
On a much more important note, I've received word that Riot had decided to remake the entirety of the LoL lore for some reason. In essence, the Summoners and the Institute of War have effectively ceased to be canon. This threw a massive wrench in my plans for later chapters and I was struck down with indecision for several weeks, unable to do nothing but wait for something to happen. It's only recently that I returned to writing, with the decision to use the old League lore in favor of the new one.
HOWEVER, I'd let you decide whether or not I'd take up the new or the old LoL lore for the story. It's the reason why I decided to write about Lycan and PotM instead of Kunkka and the five other Heroes, because the former two Heroes are in the Dota 2 world, and the latter Heroes are in the LoL world, where a massive-scale retconning is taking place.
So, what do you think; new League lore (the more recent ones, like the Shurima update), or old League lore (with the Summoners and the Institute, which I prefer)?