Valen moves through the city, his path taking him past the bustling market. Merchants call out their wares, voices overlapping in a constant hum of trade and conversation.
The scent of fresh bread, cured meats, and burning incense drifts through the air, but he pays little attention to any of it.
His focus remains ahead.
Soon, the streets shift.
The people walking by carry themselves differently—movements more calculated, eyes sharper. Weapons rest on their backs or at their sides, bows slung over shoulders. Their gear is worn, practical, built for survival rather than display.
An old brick building comes into view. A big structure, weathered by time but sturdy, standing as a testament to those who pass through its doors.
Valen steps inside.
The open space within is alive with movement. Groups of hunters talk amongst themselves, some gathered over tables going over maps and recent hunts, others laughing over shared stories.
Some sit alone, sharpening blades, adjusting gear, or simply resting after long trips into the wild. Along the walls, counters are manned by staff handling requests, payments, and contracts.
He approaches one of the counters.
A woman behind it notices him immediately, her expression brightening. "Oh! Good morning, Valen! What can we do for you?"
"I need a group of hunters to head into the Veil for a scouting mission."
He pulls out the parchment and places it on the counter. She takes it, unfolding it and scanning its contents.
Her eyes flick over the details before she lets out a low hum. "Hmm... This is going to need a bit more muscle. The Veil is already dangerous as it is."
She folds the paper neatly. "Let me go to the back and see what I can find."
Valen gives a simple nod, watching as she disappears through a door behind the counter.
A few minutes pass before the woman returns, settling back into her chair with an easy motion. "Alright, I sent a few messages around. Bad news, only one of them answered. Good news, it's Vanessa from the Hivebreakers!" She adds with a slight cheer.
Valen nods, unsurprised.
"Seems she was a little bored, so she accepted as soon as I mentioned the Veil. She's on her way now. Feel free to wait for her at the bench." She gestures toward the seating area to the side.
"Thanks," Valen replies, turning toward the bench and taking a seat.
Barely five minutes pass before the doors burst open.
"I'm here!" Vanessa shouts, her voice carrying over the entire hall, startling several hunters mid-conversation.
Heads turn. Some scowl, some shake their heads. None of it fazes her.
"Let's go to the Veeeeeeil!" she calls again, spotting Valen instantly. She gestures for him to follow, already turning back toward the exit.
She doesn't even wait.
Valen exhales slowly, standing from the bench. With a measured pace, he follows after her, catching up just as she strides toward the gate.
"Vanessa," he says flatly. "We're taking a Namura."
Vanessa halts mid-step, then quickly pivots, rubbing the back of her head with an awkward grin. "Oh, sure. We can do that too."
She turns, walking back toward him like that had been the plan all along.
They walk behind the building, where a massive stable stands. The structure is built sturdy, reinforced to contain the powerful creatures within.
On the roof, a Namura perches, unmoving, its long tongue flicking out to taste the air like it's the most natural thing in the world.
At ground level, a man stands with his hand on his hip, shading his eyes from the sun as he shouts up at it.
"George! Get your ass down here! You're a Namura, not a damn bird!"
Valen clears his throat. The man startles slightly before turning toward them.
"Oh! Sorry, didn't see ya there. What can I do for ya?"
Valen replies. "We need a Namura to head to the Veil."
The man scratches his head, one brow raising. "Uhh, sure." He turns toward the stable entrance, cupping his hands around his mouth.
"Pohr!" he shouts.
Shuffling sounds from inside. Something heavy moves—first across the ceiling, then down the walls. A moment later, a Namura's head pokes from the top of the stable door, blinking slowly before flicking its tongue.
"Come on out, Pohr! You're goin' out!"
The Namura twists itself with effortless grace, slinking through the entrance and settling in front of the man. As he pulls a saddle and gear from a box, he glances at Valen and Vanessa.
"Don't take this the wrong way—I know all ya paladins are strong and whatnot—but isn't the Veil supposed to be dangerous regardless?"
Valen shakes his head. "This is just a scouting mission. We'll leave the Namura outside the Veil for safety."
The man lets out a nervous chuckle. "Saw right through me, didn't ya?"
He tightens a few leather straps, checking the fit before stepping back. "All ready. You're set to go, sir. I also put two torches in the bag, I'm sure it'll be needed and I don't see ya with any."
Valen moves without hesitation, swinging onto the Namura with ease. He extends a hand toward Vanessa, but she scoffs and leaps up without an issue.
As soon as she settles behind him, Vanessa leans in slightly, her voice a hushed whisper laced with excitement.
"To the veeeeeil."
Even without seeing her face, Valen can hear the grin in her words.
Valen guides the Namura through the city streets. The moment they clear the gates, the atmosphere shifts—civilization fading behind them as they ride into the wilderness.
The Namura moves swiftly, covering ground with ease. The dense forest soon surrounds them, thick with the sounds of nature.
For nearly two hours, they ride deeper, the familiar trees of the outer woods stretching high around them.
Then, the forest begins to change.
The path ahead opens into a clearing, where the landscape splits. Behind them, the trees are as they have always been—tall but welcoming, green and vibrant under the light. Ahead, the forest darkens.
The trees beyond the clearing are different—taller, thicker, their trunks twisted in unnatural ways. Their bark is nearly black, absorbing the dim light that manages to filter through the canopy.
The air itself feels heavier the closer they get.
Valen pulls the Namura to a stop. Both he and Vanessa dismount, their boots crunching against the undergrowth.
They don't tie the creature down.
Instead, Vanessa pats its long neck. "If you get hungry, go back, alright?"
The Namura simply shakes its neck, its long tongue flicking out once before settling into place.
Without another word, Valen reaches into the saddle pouch, pulling out two torches. He hands one to Vanessa before gripping his own tightly.
His voice is steady as he chants the words of fire, the syllables rolling off his tongue with practiced ease. A spark ignites at his hand, growing into a steady flame that flickers and dances, casting shifting light against the twisted trees ahead.
Vanessa watches for a moment before lighting hers in the same way, her grin returning as she holds up the burning torch. "Alright," she mutters, her excitement tempered but still present. "Let's see what's inside."
Together, they step forward, crossing the threshold into the Veil.
They move carefully, their torches the only source of light in the suffocating darkness.
Minutes stretch into nearly an hour. They remain silent, speaking only with gestures. Every step is cautious, their senses sharp.
The forest around them is unnatural in its stillness. There is no rustling of leaves, no distant calls of wildlife. Even their own footsteps seem swallowed by the oppressive silence, as if the very air refuses to carry sound.
The deeper they go, the darker it becomes. The canopy overhead is thick, an impenetrable mass of twisted branches that block out even the faintest traces of moonlight.
The torches flicker, their glow barely pushing back the void ahead.
Despite the lack of movement, the place feels occupied. A presence lingers in the unseen spaces between trees, in the thick air pressing against their skin.
Yet nothing stirs.
Soon, they reach the area. Valen slows his steps, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings before he turns toward Vanessa.
"This is the spot," he whispers.
The area is marked by disruption—large rocks jut from the earth at odd angles, their surfaces rough and cracked. Several trees lie broken, their splintered trunks half-buried in the ground.
They move carefully, their torches casting flickering light as they search for anything out of place. Their eyes scan for marks, disturbances—anything that shouldn't be here.
For a while, they find nothing.
Then, near the base of one of the larger rocks, something stands out. An entrance—hidden beneath a tangle of thick roots.
The twisted growths coil tightly, as if nature itself is trying to conceal whatever lies beyond.
Valen kneels, brushing his fingers over the roots. They are firm, aged, yet something about them feels wrong. As if they were disturbed recently.
Vanessa steps closer, narrowing her eyes before her gaze drifts downward.
Footprints.
Scattered, uneven, pressed deep into the dirt.
She exhales, glancing at Valen before pointing toward the tracks.
"Those... Those are human feet, Valen."
Her voice is quieter now, the weight of the realization settling between them.
Valen crouches down, running his fingers over the marks in the dirt. His expression hardens.
"Feet and hands," he mutters, inspecting the impressions more closely.
He exhales slowly, a long sigh escaping him. "The Speaker thought this was going to be a place where the Thaxil were coming out of. Maybe it was meant to be a different threat."
He turns toward her.
Vanessa shrugs. "Don't look at me, dude. I'm just here to punch shit."
A brief chuckle escapes him, but it's short-lived. His gaze drops back to the markings, his eyes tracing each detail, thoughts turning over in his mind.
"Eurbs don't walk on all fours," he mutters. "I doubt we have a few of those undead, either…"
His eyes shift back to the cave, something in his expression tightening. He doesn't like where this is going.
"We're going to need a whole different type of team for this." His voice is measured, but there's an edge of finality to it. "This is probably a church facility."
Vanessa stiffens immediately, stepping back. "Am I not supposed to be here, th-then?"
Valen shakes his head. "No, no. You're fine. I'm just going to have to bring back a specialized team for this."
He exhales, the weight of realization settling on his shoulders. His jaw tightens slightly before he finally says it.
"These are probably Wendigos."