Steelheart Saga

Chapter II - Marching Ever Onward

In the lush, green forest of Wo'enne, an Elven man with naturally white hair stood alongside his 13 year old daughter. He held the same weapon used by Krysté, holding it up to the sunlight peeking through the treetops. "See here, girl? This weapon is the Blod'ven. We use it to defend our home from the wandering beasts of this land. My child, I've decided the time is right for you to learn the art of the hunt." He turned the blade flat, and presented it to the little girl with cherry red hair and wide, green eyes.

Her hands grasped the hilt of the massive weapon. Her father slowly stepped away and the blade dropped to the grass. The child struggled to pull the greatsword up. "It's heavy, papa!"

"So it is." The father kneeled. "As a defender of our village, your burden is a heavy one indeed. But you must learn to carry it all the same. The Blod'ven is no different. To wield such a weapon, one must understand the consequences of using its power in vain."

The Elven child pulled and pulled, but failed to lift the Blod'ven. "I can't do it!" She relented, releasing its hilt and falling back.

Her father retrieved his weapon, lifting it with a single hand and holding it behind his head. "Worry not, child, for it is in your nature to walk the path of virtue. One day, you will be worthy of wielding this blade, and it shall become your most loyal companion."

. . .

"Krysté! Private Krysté!" A Knight shouted, rousing the Elven warrior from her slumber.

She shooed away the human Knight. "I'm up, Hume! Begone."

"No can do, Private. You've been summoned by Captain Ulrich. Report to him immediately. That is all." The Knight turned, his armor plates making a clank clank clank as he stepped out of the tent.

Krysté rubbed her eyes, sat up, and stretched. She equipped her armor, weapons, and tools and made way for the round table at the center of camp. The sun was shining high in the sky, light reflecting off the Captain's armor as he spotted Krysté in his periphery.

"Finally, you're awake, Private." Said Captain Ulrich. "Had half a mind to drag you out of that tent myself."

Krysté saluted. "No need, sir. Reporting for duty."

"Here's the situation, Knight." The Captain faced Krysté as she stood at attention. "We've received a formal request from the Mayor of Grayhold Village approximately 12 hours ago. He reports of demon activity in his town, but beyond this, the presence of a vile Demon Lord calling himself the Dark King. Your mission is to vanquish all demons in the village, find the holed up Demon Lord, and execute him. We'll be sending a convoy of men to assist you. Understood?"

"Of course, sir, but..." Krysté hesitated. "You're sending men to my aid?"

"Is that a problem, Knight?" Asked the Captain.

"No sir, it's just that I've never commanded a unit before." Krysté answered. "Are you certain I'm suitable for this task?"

"Without a doubt." The Captain grinned. "I know you fancy yourself a lone wolf, Private, but let's face it. You've more than proven yourself capable. That blade of yours has become somewhat of a symbol around here, believe it or not."

"A symbol of what, might I ask?" Said Krysté.

"Of power. Of destruction. Of carnage." Answered Captain Ulrich. "But most of all? Results. Now move out, Knight. Grayhold awaits."

"Yes, sir!" Krysté saluted, then made her way to the armory. Once the Elven Knight had sufficiently prepared, she rounded up her men and made way for Grayhold on horseback, each Knight carrying a map of the area on their person. It was a party of five, with Krysté leading from the front.