Crimson Twilight: Dusk

Chapter 1: First encounter

Morroc was a city known for its unfriendliness. Situated at the center of the Sograt Desert, its very environs encouraged it. It was known as a breeding ground for thieves, assassins and rogues; people who would slit someone's throat for small change. As a morrocan saying went, when the sun's light grows hateful, people turn to the shadows for survival. The sun was indeed hateful here. It beat down the dark-skinned morrocans and as they went about and baked the stones of their houses until eggs could fry on them.

Besides unfriendliness, Morroc was also a city of dull, harsh existence. The buildings were the same stone blocks as the houses, varying only in size. Around them remained broken relics of the city's past, testaments to a time when Morroc was the capital of the greatest empire on Rune-Midgard. Broken statues of past emperors and war heroes adorned the main square. They were stripped of anything remotely valuable but no one took them down completely, as if their presence provided the ruined city some glimpses of better days. Besides the monuments, there were also the pyramids, towering structures built more than a thousand years ago for Morroc's greatest emperor. Instead of inspiring hope, however, their reminder only served to make the present look even worse.

The harshness of the land seeped into the people as surely as its sands crept into everything. Kindness was as rare as water, though not as prized. There was no aid for the unfortunate here. Like vultures, the people of Morroc looked on the downfallen only as potential gain, although the beings that circled these unfortunates sported daggers instead of talons.

The sweltering heat made it "unprofitable" to expend any effort that did not result in instant zenny. The countless, shady eyes of the desert city look for only one thing, opportunity. This was the reason why no one looked that seriously at the two figures walking towards the local tavern. Opportunity often presented itself in the form of novices who had somehow gained a lot of zenny, spoiled children of rich people who proudly toted their expensive equipment and lone merchants who were too stingy to even hire bodyguards. Heavily-armored crusaders and knights represented the hated authority of Prontera so they often spelled trouble, hardly opportunity.

'I hate this place.' The thought came to Eliarainne Sialsanderin while she grasped her lance with cool familiarity. Atop her pecopeco, Bristle, she rode slowly along one of Morroc's main streets, in plain sight of the citizens. While she rode in full armor and armed herself to face down a squad of soldiers, nothing made her more agitated than the angry stares of countless thieves that were focused on her and her companion, Makaelthos Solcry. She knew that many of these people hated her on principle alone. They were morrocans and she was pronteran. A fight was inevitable but the way they skirted around her like scavengers made her restless. She wanted to yell at them to get it over with or go away though caution prevailed.

"You're being too nervous, Eliarainne." Makaelthos said as he looked over his shoulder and straight at the mounted knight behind him. He had advised his partner earlier to appear less hostile to the people but she had scoffed at the notion. She would not hide her knighthood before people who cannot even face an opponent directly, she said.

As a result, Eliarainne presented an imposing figure to the morrocan crowds. She was wearing a simple elunium helm, an unadorned dome of metal around her head with a full face guard and a visor to hide most of her facial features, instead of her usual bone helm. The horns that jutted out of the sides of a bone helm would have told everyone that she was not just a knight but a knight commander.

Makaelthos shook his head at the attention they were getting, though. They were supposed to be investigators for this mission but attention would scare potential information away. Moroccans disliked anything military and everything about Eliarainne was that. Even a child could tell, from the heavy elunium plates covering her entire body and the two-headed eagle adorning the blue tabard over her armor, what her affiliation was.

Sharper eyes looked past the metal and through her visor. She kept her golden brown hair short, allowing it to fall to the sides of her face. Her hazel eyes looked about suspiciously, matching the stare of any thief. Fair hair and brightly colored eyes were far removed from the dark-haired, dark-eyed moroccans. Her pale, unblemished skin marked her as pronteran as it contrasted against the darker skin of the desert-dwelling people.

Makaelthos kept his saber sheathed beside him. While he was not careless, he did not believe in needless, visible caution. It only told people around him that he was insecure about his surroundings.

He could feel Eliarainne's disapproving stare on his back. While his heavier-looking, broad-shouldered plate armor should have made him more imposing, the way he walked indicated that he was perfectly at home in the desert city.

The calm expression seldom left his face while his green eyes did not look about suspiciously like hers did. He did not wear his helm to help put people at ease. People simply talked more freely with a person who did not hide his face within a cage of metal. His tanned skin made him blend in easier as well. Wavy, dark brown hair often fell across his eyes and the nape of his neck. He had a "boyish" look about him, clean-cut, smooth-skinned and a combination of delicate, seemingly-chiseled features which often helped in putting people at ease. He was born here in Morroc and, even though he had left it for Prontera, its mark on him was plain to see. The only things suspicious about him were the design of his armor, marking him as a crusader, the pronteran tabard over his armor, and a cloaked, hooded person who walked beside him.

"And you're being too relaxed, Makaelthos." Eliarainne grumbled before dismounting. "I don't like the way these people keep staring at us."

Makaelthos pushed the tavern's doors open. The bar's patrons looked no different than the people outside. He took note of the visible thieves with their brown overcoats and openly displayed knives. They were nothing special. They did not have any colored armbands, meaning that they were not part of any guild. He shifted his gaze to the less obvious patrons. There were only a few. A man smoking a pipe by one shadowy corner got his attention. He was all too familiar with the colors of this man's armband. Black and purple signified only one guild.

The hooded figure that walked beside him moved closer to his side. A soft, feminine voice, both cautious and respectful, resounded in his mind. 'I sense that your presence here is unwelcome, Master Makaelthos.' It spoke. 'I can see several people fingering their knives in the shadows.'

There was only one voice that could sound inside the crusader's head. Makaelthos glanced at his hooded companion and replied in his thoughts. 'I can understand why, Khaesilya. These people resent Prontera's authority and nothing reminds them of that more than the presence of a pronteran knight or crusader.'

Makaelthos positioned himself as far away from the local patrons as possible before taking a seat. He was not here for a fight.

Yesterday, a report was filed to the pronteran regular army that several prominent members of the "Hunters of Dead" guild had vanished during a routine trip to the pyramids. In response, Grand Knight Commander Quai Hune assigned the investigation to the First Knight Division, Prontera's finest cavalier unit. While dealing with disappearances was not the norm for the First Knight Division, the nature of the case and the good chance that they would have to enter the pyramids made it a military matter.

Dealing with the undead populated pyramids meant that the division's crusader specialist, Lightbearer Sir Makaelthos Solcry would take part. The division's commander, First Knight Commander Eliarainne Sialsanderin, had volunteered to come with him. Not surprising as the relatively peaceful months had her restless. She was his partner for missions like this anyway.

Makaelthos listened closely to the discussions around him. Most of the patrons were thieves; their discussions were, as always, hushed and shady; often laced with all sorts of euphemisms and misleading terms. A pair of thieves could sound as if they were discussing the price of bread while planning their next crime. Eliarainne tied Bristle outside the tavern before joining him while Khaesilya remained standing beside the crusader as if waiting to serve him.

Eliarainne eyed the patrons suspiciously. She was particularly wary of the assassin who was sitting in the corner while smoking his pipe as well as the several thieves that sat close to him. He had yet to stop staring at them. There was something familiar about the black and purple armbands they wore. "I don't think we can get a lot of information in this place, Makaelthos." She told her partner. "I doubt it if a priest like Felthan would hang out with people like this."

Makaelthos gestured for Khaesilya to sit beside him. Now was not the time to make him look like someone rich enough to own servants. Thieves were known to take risks if they knew that the prize was great. "Maybe not Felthan." He replied. "But one of his companions, the assassin called Carnath. Besides, this was the same bar were they met right before heading for the pyramids if we can believe our informants."

Eliarainne watched as a swordsman and a tall, hooded figure in a heavy cloak entered the tavern. The patrons eyed him with more interest and she knew why. "An easier target." She muttered dryly. "So this is what this bar is all about eh?"

The swordsman, a blond, young man, smirked at the staring crowd and sat with his companion. Obviously insulted by the confident attitude, several thieves began to mutter angrily among themselves. The cloaked figure stared at the bar while Eliarainne tried to get a better look at his face. There was something in the way that the man carried himself. It was an unconscious yet superior attitude in his walk as if he disdained being in such a disreputable place. Though she could not discern any facial expression on the man, she did notice the bandages that dangled outside the cloak. 'Badly wounded, is he?' She thought. 'He must have been to the pyramids lately. Maybe he knows what happened to the Hunters of Dead.' She turned to look at her partner. Judging by the look on the crusader's face, she guessed that he was thinking of the same thing. He was probably the first to figure it out anyway. Makaelthos was the quicker thinker in their partnership.

"I'll have a talk with those two." Makaelthos whispered. You and Khaesilya keep watching that assassin friend of ours in the corner." He stood up and started to walk towards the cloaked figure when a thief approached the swordsman.

"Hey, buddy." The thief spoke. "Your friend doesn't look too good to me and my pals there. We know this acolyte fella who can fix him right up. We'll be glad to show you to him, for a fee of course."

Makaelthos frowned at the thief's words. He knew how it would go, there would be no acolyte waiting for these two. The thieves were likely to lead them to some back alley, mug them, and then leave them for dead. The swordsman grinned and stared at the thief. His companion stuck his bandaged hands into his pockets and spoke. "I have no need of healing, sir, so leave me alone."

Makaelthos strained to hear the words. There was something strange about the voice. It was dry and extremely deep, an almost inhuman voice if he had ever heard one but it had a sort of regal quality to it. The voice of a natural leader if he could assume such things from voice alone.

Khaesilya began to shake slightly as soon as she heard the voice. Eliarainne watched her with concern. "Khaesilya, what's wrong?" she asked.

Khaesilya shook even more as she stared at the swordsman and his cloaked companion. Her eyes widened in fear and realization. "It is him!" She suddenly spoke. "The once-great emperor! It's-!"

The cloaked figure turned to face Khaesilya. Red eyes glowed from the depths of his hood as he rose to his feet. Makaelthos drew his sword and stood protectively in front of his companions. The thieves inside the room drew their knives, it was the perfect opportunity to blindside the swordsman and his companion take their stuff and sidle out of the bar while the knight and the crusader were busy with the assassin.

"The time has not yet come for the world to realize my presence, sohee!" The figure boomed. "You must not speak of me here, not yet!"

The swordsman stood up as well as Eliarainne grabbed her halberd. Khaesilya removed her hood revealing long, black hair, pale skin and vivid, red eyes. Her hair was carefully groomed and arranged in a classical payonese style, with her long sideburns tied off at the end while the rest were neatly arranged into a pair of buns on top of her head. Her features marked her nature as a sohee, a race of female, water demons that dwelled within the caves of Payon. They had a reputation for stabbing people dead and were often recognizable by their dark hair and red eyes. The sohee's presence raised alarmed shouts inside the bar.

"It's a sohee! Get her!" Someone shouted. The barkeep dove beneath the bar and clutched his head protectively. The thieves, sensing opportunity, jumped after the swordsman instead. The blond, young man grinned and drew the broadsword strapped to his back. The cloaked figure continued to stare at Khaesilya, who drew a stiletto from the sleeves of her robe. The bar's patrons surrounded her.

Eliarainne pointed the halberd at the crowd as the assassin took a step forward. The other thieves stared warily at the well-sharpened blade of the weapon and edged towards the back exits. No one in their right mind would want such a weapon swinging towards them and this knight looked like she would do so without any hesitation."You know quite well that this sohee means you no harm! Stand down already!" She commanded.

The assassin spat his pipe out, grinned and continued to advance. "You misjudge us." He answered. His tone deep and husky from too much smoke. "We know it's a tame sohee. Sohee slaves cost a fortune in the open market these days."

The bar's patrons stared at Khaesilya greedily, almost hungrily. The sohee's value alone was enough reason to make them want her but there other perverse reasons for them as well. This sohee was a fine example of her race. Her comely looks and the sharp contrast between her dark hair and extremely pale skin made her very attractive. She was a demon but that was something that nobody really minded anyway. Especially in the dark.

The tension inside the bar snapped when a thief screamed before dropping dead on the floor. The swordsman shrugged his shoulders and grinned as he held the bloody broadsword.

Makaelthos turned towards the swordsman, his sword raised. "Morroc law prohibits murder, swordsman! Put down your weapon and surrender!"

The swordsman laughed and sheathed his sword. With one more challenging glance at Makaelthos he turned to face his cloaked companion. The bandaged figure glanced at the thieves disdainfully. He did not draw a weapon nor did it look like he had one in the first place. It seemed as if he regarded everyone in the bar as beneath him.

"Looks like you've started quite a fuss here." The swordsman said to his companion. "We'd better go."

The cloaked figure stared at Khaesilya one last time before walking away. Makaelthos started to follow them when Khaesilya pulled at his cape. "Do not chase them, Master Makaelthos! We cannot hope to destroy the both of them at once!"

Makaelthos looked at Khaesilya questioningly. Every instinct told him to chase after the murdering swordsman and his strange companion but the sohee was shaking badly; it was obvious that the knowledge of who those two were was frightening her.

"What did you realize about them, Khaesilya? Do you know who they are?" He asked.

Khaesilya stared at the assassin as Eliarainne blocked his path towards her. The sohee's telepathic reply was silent, as if she was afraid someone might still overhear despite the purely mental action she was taking. 'It was the once-great, warrior emperor…Osiris.' She thought. 'And with him walks the terror of Geffenia, the doppelganger. If those two are involved then perhaps we have just found out what had happened to The Hunters of Dead.'

Makaelthos's eyes narrowed. It seemed as if a routine investigation to them was about to become much more complicated.

World notes

Lightbearer - a crusader who has trained under the Order of Light, sub order of the Church's Order of Crusaders. Lightbearers focus on complementing their physical prowess with spell casting ability. They are able healers but their strongest abilities come from offensive use of holy power. They are able to channel holy power through their blades to burn their opponents as they cut them, creating blasts of light that may potentially blind them or channel holy power directly into the ground, creating a powerful cross-shaped explosion of holy light known as a grand cross.

In-game explanation - Lightbearers are simply crusaders with either a careful balance of INT and STR or even pure INT crusaders. They focus on Holy cross and Grand Cross, taking points in Heal for support.

Cavalier - "Cavalier" is a term used for knights who specialize in mounted combat and pole arms. The are excellent riders and are known for their heavy armor and large weapons. Cavaliers form the spearhead of any attack made by the pronteran regular army. It is their role to directly engage the enemy main force and hold them so the rest of the army can perform their roles. While mounted they are armed with lances, using the heavy weapon with one hand and protecting themselves with a shield on the other. On foot they wield halberds with both hands. They are also armed with a couple of javelins which they throw with deadly accuracy, to deal with enemies from a range.

In-game explanation - Cavaliers are VIT knights with skills in all spear-based skills.