Private Tales It Takes Two

[Aldren Cordale]

​

'Twas a cold night, that one. Rain poured from the sky with no signs of stopping, making the trek through the mud even more harder. The whole place was deserted, the favourite hiding place for gold hoarding monsters like those nasty goblins. Aldren was fed up with them, having to search for their whereabouts for weeks before finally finding it. An old trading post, in the middle of nowhere. Little devils had dug their wholes and built their mazes all the way down, stashing the stolen goods of the nearby villages there, along with the rotten meat of a few unfortunate adventurers.

It was a fool's endeavor to hunt a sizeable pack of goblins like that alone, a lesson learned too late by those young glory hunters. But Aldren was a man of the trade already, well versed in such matters. A Templar, a man carrying out the holy order of driving out those evils from the land.

Together with the noblest of friends, his faithful Helen, they went through the side paths along the woods until they arrived at the trading post, already caughting glimpses of a few goblins. A big one, most likely their leader, blew his horn as a signal, with another group of the tiny and nasty creatures arriving to his side, while the others ran below through the hole in the fallen building.

Aldren dismounted from his mare and brought his sword to action, the ancient Darksbane, sharp blade gleaming at the moonlight as he swung it effortless in the air, preparing. He let the first two goblins approach, making short work of them with a few cuts from his weapon. Poor bastards barely reached him.

The rest of the group charged him in full force, with the leader falling behind to coward back into his hole. With quick and elegant steps, Aldren evaded their attacks while cutting them down one by one, barely breaking a sweat. He kicked down the door to the trading building and went through the hole, trying his best not to dwell upon the horrible smell. After killing the last of the goblins, all that was left was the leader, towering above the stockpiles of stolen riches.

He said his last words, inaudible grunts mostly, before grabbing his spiked cub and charging Aldren. Even as a goblin, he was a tall one, almost reaching Aldren in size. The fight proved to be more complicated than Aldren had anticipated, earning him a few bruises and cuts due to lucky shots from the creature's weapon. Until Aldren managed to sidestep one of his attacks and cut his leg clean off, the devil screaming in horror as he saw a pool of own blood.

Without much ceremony, Aldren stuffed the goblin's stomach with his blade, shining slightly as it tasted the monster's blood. Aldren heard the satisfied whispers of the spirit that inhabited Darksbane, smiling cheekly at his timely remarks.

Between a few pauses for much deserved rests, Aldren reached the village at the center of the Reach, citizens already up in their feet to celebrate the man's arrival, clad in his armor and cloak with the goblin leader's head at the lower side of Helen's saddle. Aldren stopped near the inn, dismounting and taking down his hood so he could remove his helmet.

He noticed a few looks thrown his way after it, but his heart already belonged to another. One who lingered in his thoughts far too much for his own good. Aldren smiled as he remembered her, then fell back to his duties, removing the head from Helen's saddle and putting in a bag.

Cordale entered the inn, being met by claps and shouts of victory by the folk who drank there, his victory being a good excuse for a few of the drunkards there. He delivered the proof of the enemy's fall to the innkeeper, the person who first reached out to him for help when he arrived there two weeks ago.

As the frail man motioned to give him a large pouch of coin as reward for his service, Aldren put his armored hand forward, denying him. "No need for this, sir. I only do my duty, and the people here need this more than i do."

"Oh, i'm sorry lad! I thought you were one of them monster hunters, greedy bastards!", surprised, the man replied.

"I'm a Templar, sir. And who are these monster hunters, exactly?", Aldren inquired, taken with curiosity. In all his travels, even when he was an active monster hunter himself, he had never heard of a organized order. He thought the Templars were the only ones to root out and eliminate the evils blighting these lands.

"A bloody Templar? Wow! And you're better off not knowing about them, son! Here, have a few drinks on the house. We've got your room all cleaned up as well! Take some rest before you set out again."

Aldren nodded in gratitude, taking his drink as every good sinner would -- with much joy.

Smiling One

 

[Smiling One]

"I win again."

The Orc stared at a grinning Willis full of fury as he gathered coins that were piled on the table. "That's the third time that you've won," he growled. The small crowd gathered around the two nodded in agreement with the Orc. Willis smirked taking the wooden cup full of Vodka off the table and sipping. "My green-skinned friend," he said. "It's not my fault I'm skilled at Dice. I'm a man who takes calculated risks and I do it-."

Willis took another sip of from the goblet. "Mostly sober," he said setting the cup down.

Since It was raining outside causing flooding on the roads, Willis decided to rent a place for the night. Most of the tavern waitresses went home, Willis decided to play dice with the patrons and made some good coin. "You cheated!" the Orc yelled slamming his fist on the table. "You have loaded Dice."

"Dumbass," Willis said smirking. "We've been using your dice for the entire session. Maybe try to analyze your game instead of blaming others for your failures."

The Orc was about to speak until loud cheers echoed throughout the inn. "What's the occasion?" Willis mumbled. "That's the Knight who saved our people from a horde of Goblins!" one of the men said.

Willis frowned drinking his Vodka. "A knight huh?" he asked dispassionately. The hero in question was dressed in black armor with brown hair and beard with a scar running down his right cheek. Willis listened to the man speak saying that he was a Templar. Willis heard of Templars before, more fanatical versions of knights if he saw them.

"Great," Willis mumbled. "My night has been spoiled."

To Willis, Knights were glorified mercenaries. They kill, pillage and steal but somehow are seen as heroes because they suck the cock of some King or Lord. They were hypocrites who did what they wanted and used chivalry as a defense for their actions. In truth, Knights were no better than sellswords like Willis. Still, the young man had an idea, instead of brooding over this like an Elf perhaps he can treat the hero at a game.

Willis waved his hand to grab the man's attention. "Hey, you!" he shouted. "You're the talk of the town, are you? Got every one gushing over you. Why don't you celebrate by playing Dice against the champion himself?"

"You're a bloody cheater!" The Orc shouted but immediately after he said that a dagger between his large fingers. The Orc stood back in fear seeing Willis staring at him smiling as he gripped the handle of the small weapon. "I told you," he said. "That I'm just damn good at dice. Besides, there's no honor in cheating right?"

Willis took the dagger out from the table and twirled it between his fingers. "Isn't that in your little code chivalry?" Willis asked. "So what do you say, friend? Play against the one and only: Willis Reede?"

 

[Aldren Cordale]

Aldren finished his second round of drinks with a small sip of a well aged wine, his favorite choice of liquid for special occasions, such as celebrating a successful monster hunt. And yet, something managed to cut short his rather peaceful victory as a man with slight tone of provocation aroused confusion throughout the bar, boasting about his name and skills at games before inviting the Templar to one.

Cordale had never been a man of gambles, though he did play in the past when he was serving Edenham. He wasn't very skilled though, ended up losing quite a bit of coin as well. But by the heat garnered at the nearby tables, with the drunken customers already gathering about to watch the spectacle, it wouldn't be wise to just turn down.

But he would have his own share of fun as well.

With a small and cheeky smile, Aldren got up from his seat, standing almost in the middle of the room, a few paces away from the arrogant man's own table. "Who?", he replied in answer to his boasting claims. In truth, he had never heard of one Willis, and he passed around as a rather common man, not drawing too much attention if not for his own words.

He took a few steps forward, the sound of steel from his arm clicking as he walked, closing the distance to the table. He gazed upon the man for a while, measuring him. He didn't have the look of a warrior like him, but he possessed a rather familiar outerior of one suited to battle. Perhaps a sellsword? Aldren didn't like such kind. Swinging their swords around as the tiniest sight of coin graced their eyes. People like that could never be trusted, and were often suspicious of dubious deeds.

"I'm sorry, sir. But i'm of no mind towards dice. My trade is steel and monsters, not beer and games", Aldren spoke roughly, but not absent a slight smile on his face.

Their conversation was cut short by the urgent screams coming from one of the girls outside, moments before a cloaked man fell abruptly upon the establishment's door, taking a few customers by surprise. Darksbane begun to light up in its scabbard, a sign that ill magic was nearby.

He whispered of monsters and inaudible words before he passed away into unconsciousness, leaving everyone shocked and fearful. Aldren clenched his fist, realizing that there were still work to be done.

 

[Smiling One]

Willis chuckled at the Templar's response it looks like the knight got some wit after all. "I'm pretty popular around these parts," he smirked. "Especially among women." he took another sip of Vodka before responding. "Well what do you know," Willis said. "A knight slaying monsters. What are you trying to do us professionals out of the job?"

Much to Willis' irritation Knights was one of the more sought after people by the Monster Hunter Academy. Some of them who weren't sworn to Lords or a King became mercenaries who drew considerable interest by clients particularly nobles with plenty of coin to spend. That left people like Willis to scrounge for work from poor villagers or blatant scam artists. While Willis understood why the Monster Hunters wanted to recruit Knights, it was still unfair. Then again Willis already experienced how unfair life can be.

"That is exactly my job shiny!" Willis said putting his feet up and smiling. "Yet here I am also winning dice. Methinks the knight is rigid."

There was a shriek heard across the room, Willis instantly removed his feet from the table and placed his hand on the hilt of his Cutlass. A man stumbled into the inn wearing a cloak and covered in wounds. The Knight drew out his sword and examined the glow that radiated from his blade. Willis got up and frowned at him, a magical blade? That's very rare. There was no time to gawk at the knight's weapon since the man whispered that there were monsters approaching before passing out.

"Everyone stay inside the Inn!" Willis said. "This is a job for professionals!"

 

[Aldren Cordale]

After the immediate danger had faded, Aldren returned his sword to its scabbard, steel ringing as it passed through. He took a few steps forward and knelt next to the fallen man, examining him. His dark cloak was soaked in blood and his body had multiple wounds, but what stood out was the strange mark he carried in his chest, etched onto his skin. It pulsed with raw demonic power, as Aldren sensed through his own magical channels. He felt it flow towards him like a vermin, making the Templar seemingly uncomfortable and prompted him to step away from the source of the corruption.

It was then that the dice player approached them, boasting about his job now. Aldren stood confused with his claims.

"Professionals? And who are you, exactly?", he inquired in a rough tone, gazing upon the man beside him.

Before the round of introductions could go any further, the wounded man woke up gasping for air and screaming out his lungs in different languages before he lept on and took hold of both Aldren and the sellsword's arms, his sinful magic working to stain them with a rune filled with dark magic, marking them.

He whispered the word 'Heavenfall' a few times before life escaped his eyes and he succumbed to his wounds. The people gathered in the inn all looked to each other in disbelief, taken by the fear that word had brought to them. Aldren looked to the sellsword a couple times before the innkeeper approached them, desperate.

"He-Heavenfall? Surely that's a joke!", he spoke out, the fear clearly stamped on his face.

"Why? What's Heavenfall?", Aldren asked, confused.

"Curse that name! It's a rotten and forgotten place a few days from here! It was taken by demons many years ago and left haunted to this day! Many people 'round here says it's the door to the demon realm, and Hell itself waits underground!", the man went on as if telling a tale to frighten children.

"You! You both bear the mark! You're cursed!", a couple of customers started shouting, soon becoming a small mob that forced them outside. The very skies darkened and rain started pouring, when the sun was shining bright just a few moments ago. Ravens started flying above the small town as the people who passed near the inn looked at them in disdain.

Aldren looked over to the sellsword, fearing that his path was now crossed with that man. Whatever ill fate had befallen over this Heavenfall, it was his duty to see it purged. And now both of their lives depended on it as well.

"Well, dice champion... Looks like we have some work to do."