The crackling flames of the small campfire illuminated the weary face of Charlemagne, a knight burdened by the weight of his past actions. Seated beside him, his fellow knight, clad in his helmet, attempted to console him with words of justification. "Come on, Charlemagne," the knight implored, his voice filled with earnestness. "You need to let go of this guilt. It had to be us. We were the ones who had to wield our swords, lest it be his. The man they call the Flayer, he was beyond redemption. We showed him mercy." Charlemagne remained silent, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. The memories haunted him, the scenes of violence and bloodshed replaying in his mind. It weighed heavily upon his soul, threatening to consume him from within. As his companion poked the fire, sparks scattered into the air, casting an ethereal glow upon the campsite. The knight removed his helmet, revealing a visage that bore the marks of death and destruction, as if he himself had been scorched and shattered. "What's wrong, Charlemagne?" the knight asked, his voice a chilling whisper. The firelight reflected off the jagged remnants of his face, evoking an eerie sense of dread. "What are you looking at?" In that moment, darkness enveloped the scene, shrouding it in an unsettling silence. The weight of Charlemagne's remorse and the haunting specter of his comrade's disfigurement lingered in the air, leaving an indelible mark on his consciousness. The screen fades to black, leaving a lingering sense of unease and anticipation for what awaits in the next scene. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Amidst the chaos and destruction that engulfs the city, the four players find themselves standing in the remnants of a once-grand throne room. The air is thick with the acrid stench of burning flesh, the sounds of screams and crackling fire permeating their senses. They take in their surroundings, their eyes drawn to the devastation that surrounds them. Shattered statues lie scattered across the floor the symbol of Aritath, their fragmented forms mirroring the broken state of the room. Cracked marble floors and walls bear witness to the fierce battles that have raged within these walls. Above them, the ceiling shows signs of imminent collapse, the weight of the castle's destruction slowly causing it to sink and crumble. Suddenly, a heavy crunch echoes through the chamber, drawing their attention forward. Their gazes lock onto a group of battered and bruised troops, donning the unmistakable crests of El Tallia. Among them stands a formidable figure, the armor-clad Royal Guard Captain, his warhammer lifting from the skull of the knight you just talked to still dripping with the blood of a fallen knight. In a defiant roar, the Guard Captain raises his weapon high, adorned with flickering flames that dance along its surface. His voice booms through the room, carrying the weight of conviction as he declares, "For the Great Council!" His rallying cry sparks a surge of fervor among the royal guards, their faces etched with determination. With weapons raised and hearts aflame, they charge forward. -------------------------------- As the dust settles a blinding flash fills the room, Alyssara, Tengri and Cedrika find themselves looking down into the throne room. The sound of footsteps walking towards them. A red robed figure black hair flowing around a stone mask two red eyes darting through them. He raises his finger and utters one noise "Shh" A dark figure towers before Charlamegne a aura of death before him eyes that send fear rippling through his body it lifts its spear and lunges forward. Charalmagne raises his shield but it is frutiless the spear rips through it like tin impaling him.A crack of lighting breaks across the city and the figure is gone within the flash. Wait for a response Behind you stands two knights of Iginatitus wounded one running towards the downed knight the other looking at you "Go, we will hold here ensure out victory in his name for his name" He points to the dead knight The red robed figure transforms and flies down into the throne room from the world above a crimson bird landing before Charlamagne,it speaks with a echoing voice like a man beyond years. "It was a vision of what is to come, it cannot be outrun, it can only be dealt with here and now" Wait for response "A mission to kill someones son, a foe who will not run, unlike any you have faced before. I can show you the way" Wait for response "I don't think your ready" The bird begins to fly down the halls deep into the palace the boddies of both defenders and allies alike littering its halls before the bird perches on a single door "Here" As charlamagne opens the door within he sees a large window and ornate room, draped in the finest silk. And a cradel a infant boy sleeping within The bird flys into the room landing on the cradel "I don't think your ready" If he asks any questions the bird responds with "This is the son of none other than Tallias very own prince Regisus, know that he will grow from a boy to an avenger One fueled by rage, as your consumed by age. If you don't end him now you'll have no one left to save" Possible responses to him trying to avoid this "He will burn your house, he will burn every throne" "He will find you wherever you go" "The gods will make him know" "The blood on your hands is something you won't lose, all you can do is choose is whos" The bird vanishes as the screams of the city begin to grow louder and louder within everyones ears before another lighting strike, as the scene fades to black. Tranformation 1 is now active.