S1C11Scherbe has spent what had felt already like days searching the vault. she had never gone beyond the main room and her quarters of the vault. She never had a need. A want.
But as she scoured the city like vault deep below. The she felt the nagging thoughts of the voices ever echoing in her head. They would come whispering anger in her ears and fade. She drove her self though them as best she could while searching the massive vault.
Someone took it
“no I haven’t found it yet” she told herself
You were gone for so long, anyone could have taken it.
Her entire body was sore. The ache seeped into her bones. Her brain felt like it had swollen and pushed against her skull. She drag her feet over the floor. her vision was blury. A guttural groan escaped her throat.
“The seed. Of. Man. Is. Rotten” Her brain won't stop chanting it. She pushed myself much too hard.
"Scherbe" said a voice. A familiar voice. Wasn't it? She though
She spun around
S1C10Scherbe awoke still in the church flickering light of the fire place at the other end lit the room. She had been in and out in a fevered state, awaking at different points always finding herself being in the church, whoever her attacker was either didn’t want her dead or thought she already was. Now she awoke with a fuzzy feeling in her head, and the feeling of her body but not able to move much of it without great difficulty. She checked her fingers and toes and felt them move, relieved her arms and legs worked and feeling was coming back. She rolled slightly and gasped a sharp breath for out a quiet but pained yelp. Her back felt like it was on fire and the pain ran down her spine ripping her out of the fog of pain and memory started flooding back. She was scouting for Tira when was attacked, then more. She remembered going through Corvain village, and the birdmen. The thought clenched her stomach and heart in an icy grip that made her queasy. Her head swam but she fought the u
S1C9The blood trail ended here. At a cliff side. The other side what appeared to be some kind of church sitting on top of the mountain edge? Scherbe wasn’t sure the heavy snow blowing obscured anything beyond a several yards What once was a bridge leading to the other side now laid flat against the cliff wall and judging by its condition it was in no danger of being brought down by time and decay. This bridge was cut.
Either Tira had jumped to her death, or; more likely the real story here, she ran to the church on the other side.
Scherbe surveyed the horizon and mountain. She was unfamiliar with the area personally but if the stories were true, she wasn’t far form Corvain village. The town that was lost to the Malfested years ago. And though she only had stories from Hilde and her father, she knew she would have to be careful the place was still likely crawling with Malfested.
With the bridge to the church gone, the only way was down, she used the remains of the bridge to crea
S1C8Scherbe looked out form the tower on the north end of Orstrhiensburg castle, she stood looking out over the forest line watching the sun set. She noted the wan light from the sun, soon to fall below the forested horizon. Night would rise shortly. As the sun lit upon a sparse meadow outside of a dark forest, everything was covered in a light snow something very pleasant to her eyes, the mixture of colors off the sun intrigued her. They wove together in such a harmonic blend that it reminded her of the purity in the world, in nature something she had grown to love. Her father had always told her how beautiful the snow would make things look.
But yet all she had to do was look to the castle walls to see it all sullied before her. The snow changing into a red hue, crimson almost. The Malfested had attacked their walls in the last week but they still stood strong, they had come a long ways from the slaughter at Mela Verde, almost a decade had passed and so much had changed.
S1C7Several years ago
She stepped into carnage.
Scherbe's gut wrenched as the enormity of the slaughter pressed itself on her mind. Siegfried’s blue banner flapped in the wind from atop the town center. The cold northern wind wheezed down the ravine and stirred snow dust into whirling eddies across the blasted ground. Smoke still rose from glowing embers here and there, where campfires had spread in the chaos to engulf whatever other shelters the defenders had built. The Malfested corruption covered the ground
And bodies—bodies were everywhere.
Casualties of war, blood soaking their chests and streaking their faces, limbs torn free, gore spilling from gaping gut wounds. The smell of blood and entrails mixed with the carrion odor of the Malfested and turned Scherbe’s stomach.
For everything she trained for with Siegfried, every nightmare of war she painted in her head. It felt pale in comparison to what stood before her. here would be her first fight against the Mal