Ep 5: A Storm of Choices

The Crow and Dain’s Escape

The clearing erupts into chaos as The Crow and Dain clash with the mercenaries. The leader’s blackened spear gleams ominously as he thrusts it toward The Crow, who narrowly evades, rolling into the underbrush.

Dain parries a strike from another mercenary, his movements quick but unrefined. “This is your plan? Fight them all with two daggers and a half-broken sword? ”

The Crow, now perched on a fallen tree trunk, smirks. “You’re welcome to surrender. I hear they’re merciful to thieves.”

Before he can retort, she hurls a dagger, striking a mercenary in the shoulder. The man collapses with a scream as the forest becomes a cacophony of clashing steel, grunts, and shouts.

The shard in The Crow’s satchel begins to glow brighter, emitting a low hum that resonates with the forest around them. One of the mercenaries freezes, his eyes widening in terror. “The shard! It’s cursed!”

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, The Crow pulls Dain toward the dense thickets. “Run!”

They dash into the shadows of the forest, pursued by the panicked shouts of the mercenaries. As they vanish into the night, the shard’s ominous glow fades, leaving the mercenaries disoriented and fearful.

...****************...

Zerath’s March:

The morning sun rises over the rocky plains of Drakfyr. Zerath’s army begins its march northward, an imposing sea of steel and banners. At the head of the column rides Zerath Drakfyr, his crimson armor glinting in the sunlight. Beside him, his brother Kael rides in silence, his gaze distant.

“The north will tremble when they see us,” Zerath says, his voice filled with confidence.

Kael nods but hesitates before speaking. “Zerath, what happens if the Sovereign’s Blade isn’t in Veltharion? What if this war we’re waging… is for nothing?”

Zerath’s jaw tightens. “The Blade exists. The shard exists. The prophecy is clear: the one who wields it will unite—or destroy—the realm. I intend to ensure it’s the former.”

Kael doesn’t reply, but his doubts linger.

...****************...

Selyne’s Plan:

At Frosthold, Selyne gathers her council in the Great Hall. Maps and parchments cover the oak table, detailing troop positions and the known movements of Zerath’s forces.

“We need more allies,” Selyne says, addressing her advisors. “Fifty men from Ravenmoor won’t be enough to hold the southern pass.”

One of her knights, Sir Aldric, steps forward. “What about the Free Lords of the Eastern Isles? They owe no allegiance to the crown, but their ships could block Zerath’s supply lines.”

Selyne nods. “Send a raven. Offer them whatever they demand, within reason.”

Another advisor, Lady Veyra, interjects. “And what of Veltharion? If the shard is there, as the rumors suggest, shouldn’t we send scouts to confirm?”

Selyne hesitates, her gaze flickering to the map. “Veltharion is a graveyard. No one who ventures there returns. But… we can’t ignore the possibility.”

She turns to her younger brother, Erynd Valenvar, who has remained quiet until now. “Erynd, I’ll need you to lead the scouting party. Take only those you trust.”

Erynd frowns but nods. “I’ll leave at first light.”

...****************...

Seraphine’s Hunt:

In the heart of Veltharion’s ruins, Seraphine stalks the shadows, her senses heightened. The faint trail of magic left by the assassin’s blade leads her deeper into the labyrinth of crumbled towers and collapsed halls.

She pauses before a shattered mirror, its surface cracked and blackened. As she reaches out to touch it, the reflection shifts, showing not her face but that of a pale, smiling man with hollow eyes.

“Looking for answers, are we?” the reflection speaks, its voice echoing eerily.

Seraphine doesn’t flinch. “I’ve seen enough tricks to know a trap when I see one.”

The figure’s grin widens. “This is no trick, dear hunter. This is truth. The Sovereign calls, and you are but a pawn on his board.”

With a swift motion, Seraphine draws her dagger and smashes the mirror. The shards fall to the ground, but the voice lingers.

“Soon, the throne will be whole again.”

Seraphine tightens her grip on her weapon, her resolve hardening.

...****************...

The Gathering Storm:

The episode ends with a montage of rising tension:

- The Crow and Dain find temporary refuge in an abandoned watchtower, the shard pulsing faintly as they strategize their next move.

- Selyne stares out over Frosthold’s battlements, her mind racing as ravens fly to distant allies.

- Zerath’s army marches through the southern passes, their war drums echoing through the mountains.

- Seraphine climbs a ruined spire in Veltharion, the wind whipping her cloak as she surveys the cursed city.

- In the depths of an unknown cavern, a shadowy figure places a second shard on an altar, whispering ancient words as the power of the Sovereign’s Blade begins to stir.

The screen fades to black as the Sovereign’s ominous voice echoes:

"The storm comes, and no one will escape its wrath."

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