Part 1: Shadows Reported
The Dawnbreakers reached the kingdom gates as dusk painted the sky, the troll's head swinging heavily in Greg's hand. Fortunately, no monsters had jumped them on the way back. Greg didn't think they could handle another fight. At the gates, the guards' faces darkened when Greg showed the troll's head and explained where they'd fought it, just beyond the crossroads. "Too close," one guard muttered, frowning. "Trolls stick to deep forests, not roadsides." They waved the party through as the party needed to report to the guild fast, promising to send a patrol at first light.
Inside, the adventurer's guild was quieter, the evening crowd sparse. Tilda leaned on the counter, her eyes narrowing as Lila described the troll fight, and its nearness to the kingdom. Greg and Mira backed her up, Mira flashing the crystal gem, keeping the troll's testicles tucked away, muttering about hiring a cook for them later. She planned to sell the gem privately for more coin than the guild offered. Greg, less picky, sold the troll's head to Tilda, its weight finally off his arm. She handed Lila a pouch of coins and quest points, her voice grim. "This ain't right. I'll report it upstairs." With a nod of thanks, Tilda turned and climbed the guild's staircase, her boots echoing.
Lila split the reward into four even piles, sliding coins to each member. Tomas tried to push his back, mumbling, "I didn't do squat, I was out cold the whole fight."
"Just accept it." Greg shook his head. "Nah, you're one of us. Take it." Mira smirked, nudging the coins into Tomas's hand. "Don't whine, bookworm." Lila gave a firm nod, and Tomas pocketed his share, cheeks red.
Lila stretched, her armor creaking. "We nearly got crushed today. Take tomorrow off. Rest up, heal. Good work, everyone." The party split, Tomas shuffling off, Mira tossing a quick wave. Greg turned toward the temple, craving his cot, when a tug on his robe stopped him. Lila and Mira stood there, eyes sharp.
"Forget something, ladies?" Greg asked, eyebrows raised.
Lila crossed her arms. "Tomas was out, but we saw it. That heal spell….you can chant it from afar? You wanna let us know about it?"
Greg sighed. Can't keep a lid on it forever. "Fine, but you better keep it quiet. Got a spot where no one's eavesdropping?"
"My place," Lila said. "Big enough for three. Let's go." Greg nodded, following her, Mira trailing with a curious grin.
Lila's rented room sat in a quiet alley, up a rickety staircase. It was twice the size of Greg's cramped temple cell, a bed, a table, a single lantern glowing softly. Her rewards must be solid, Greg thought, scanning the sparse space, gear neatly stacked, no frills. He met Lila's eyes, and she flushed.
"Quit staring," she muttered. "Feels… weird."
"It's clean," Greg said, surprised. "Like, super clean."
Lila frowned. "What, you thought I was a slob?"
"No, no," Greg backpedaled. "Just… you didn't splurge on stuff for yourself. It's practical."
Lila's frown eased. "Sorry for being a boring lady."
Mira groaned, flopping onto the bed. "Ugh, stop flirting! Greg, spill already."
Greg chuckled, rubbing his neck.
Part 2: Bonds and Questions
Greg leaned against the table in Lila's room, the lantern casting long shadows. He took a breath, choosing his words carefully. "Not much to say. I can heal from a distance. Touching helps, sure, but in a fight? No way I'm running up to you mid-battle." It was half-true, distance didn't matter for his spells, but no need to spill everything.
Mira tilted her head, grinning. "That's it? So you're still a newbie priest, right?"
"Yeah," Greg said, shrugging. "Just joined the temple not long ago. Why?"
"Who knows," Mira teased, her eyes glinting. "Maybe some high-ranking Light Temple bigshot got bored and joined the guild for kicks."
Lila snorted, shaking her head. "Mira, you listen to too many stories."
"Life needs drama and romance!" Mira shot back, sprawling on the bed. "What's an adventure without a little spice?"
Greg chuckled, but his tone turned serious. "Tomas'll figure it out eventually, but don't tell anyone else. Promise?"
Lila and Mira nodded, their faces solemn. "Sworn," Lila said. Mira gave a mock salute. "My lips are sealed, priest."
Lila stood, stretching. "Enough secrets for now. Let's eat dinner downstairs." They headed to the tavern below, where the smell of roasted meat and fresh bread hit Greg like a warm hug. He nearly teared up at the first bite, actual food, not that temple gruel. Lila and Mira exchanged a glance, concerned flickering as Greg shoveled stew into his mouth. They talked late into the night, laughter mixing with the clink of mugs, the apparition fading to the background.
When Greg finally stumbled back to the temple, his cot was a welcome sight. He crashed.
Morning sunlight filtered through the temple's narrow windows, stirring Greg awake. "I know jack about this world", he realized, rubbing his eyes. "What's this kingdom even called? No clue about its history, its troubles, or why a necromancer might be stirring up trouble. Is it targeting the kingdom, or just bad luck it's so close?" He needed answers, books, records, anything.
He knew gold was the main currency now. Copper and silver used to be common, but magic made them too easy to fake, so the kingdom leaned on gold. Some shops still took copper or silver, but Greg had heard whispers of a full ban coming. No wonder my pouch feels light.
He stopped by a merchant's stall near the temple, a grizzled man selling pots and trinkets. "Any bookstores or libraries around?" Greg asked.
The merchant squinted, noting Greg's priest robes. "Books? Not out here in the outer kingdom. Books cost a fortune. Try the inner kingdom. Better yet, the school near the castle. They've got records, and priests get in easier." He waved Greg off with a nod.
"Thanks," Greg said, turning toward the inner gates. "School, huh?"
Part 3: Into the Inner Kingdom
Greg approached the towering gates of the inner kingdom, his priest robes fluttering in the breeze. The guards' faces soured the moment they spotted him, their eyes narrowing with disdain. "What's their deal?" Greg thought, then noticed the apparition's emaciated child ghosts huddled around the guards, their hollow eyes and bruised limbs screaming starvation. Died hungry. Rough. He kept his gaze steady, hiding his unease.
"What's your purpose?" one guard snapped, sizing Greg up like he was looking for an excuse to toss him out.
"Visiting the school for a day. Investigation," Greg lied smoothly. If he admitted he was just snooping for books, they'd probably block him.
The guard squinted, then smirked. "Where's your paladin? That crazy bitch?"
Greg blinked, realizing their hate wasn't for him, it was aimed at some paladin. What'd she do to piss them off? "Not around," he said. "Just me today."
"Fine," the other guard grunted. "Don't make trouble." They stepped aside, and Greg nodded, slipping through the gates.
The inner kingdom was a different world. Clean-swept streets sparkled under polished lamps, and the few people out wore crisp clothes, gliding by in carriages. Servants bustled, hauling goods or scrubbing steps, while nobles and merchants barely touched the cobblestones. Greg peeked into shop windows, prices were double, triple what the outer kingdom charged. No wonder they stick to gold, he thought, shaking his head.
He stopped at a general store, its shelves gleaming with trinkets. "Greetings, do you know where the school is located?" he asked the owner, a wiry man polishing a brass lamp.
The man laughed. "Keep walking straight. Big building, can't miss it."
Greg frowned, half-expecting a prank, but thanked him and moved on. After passing three buildings, a massive gate loomed at the street's end, flanked by stone walls. Castle? he wondered, until he saw carriages unloading teenagers in matching uniforms, schoolkids, chatting and laughing. Yup, that's the place.
His eyes drifted to the nearby shops, their signs dripping with menace.
Arcana Emporium: a magic store, its windows glowing with eerie light.
The Cursed Chalice: definitely black magic vibes, with skulls on display.
Tamer's Trove: monster parts and cages, probably for beast tamers.
Labourer Destiny: a slave market, its sign polished but grim.
Greg's stomach twisted. Slaves, right in the open. This place is messed up.
Part 4: The Library's Secrets
Greg craned his neck to read the ornate sign above the gate, Crownshade Institute of Noble Virtue. A fancy name for a school, he thought, steeling himself. The students milling around barely glanced at his priest robes, too caught up in their chatter and fancy uniforms. Greg squared his shoulders, acting like he belonged, and strode through the entrance. Inside, the school was a maze of polished halls and high ceilings, but no signs pointed the way.
"What kind of place doesn't label anything?" he grumbled inwardly, wandering until he realized he'd looped past the same statue twice.
A tap on his shoulder made him jump. "Greetings, priest," said a man in a crisp suit, his voice polite but curious. "You've passed this spot twice. Lost?"
Greg scratched his neck, sheepish. "Yeah, kinda. Can you point me to the library?"
"Hmm, it's a bit of a trek, but follow me," the man said, turning with a wave.
"Thanks," Greg replied, falling in step. As they walked, he eyed the students, healthy, laughing, their faces bright. Night and day from the outer kingdom kids, he thought. Those kids were happy too, but scrawny, patched clothes barely holding together. Here, everyone looked fed and carefree. The contrast stung.
The man glanced back. "Why the library, if I may ask?"
Greg kept his tone casual. "Checking for tainted books. Gotta make sure nothing dangerous is near the students." A solid lie, he needed info on the kingdom, not some holy book hunt.
The man nodded. "Alright." No pushback, to Greg's relief. Information was his lifeline to understanding this world, and he couldn't afford roadblocks.
After a few twisting corridors, the man pushed open a double door, revealing a four-story library that stole Greg's breath. Towering bookshelves stretched to the ceiling, crammed with tomes. Some books floated gently, guided by staff with glowing wands. The air hummed with faint magic. This is no public library, Greg thought, awed.
"Need assistance with your… investigation?" the man asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Nah, I'm good. Thanks for the help," Greg said, keeping it cool. The man gave a nod and left, his footsteps fading. Greg exhaled, tension draining. Time to dig.
He scanned the category list, jaw dropping at the sheer variety: Arcane Theory & Spellcraft, Elemental Studies, Beastrology & Magical Creatures, Potion Brewing & Alchemical Arts, Runes, Glyphs & Ancient Scripts, Divination & Prophecy, Enchanted History & Legendary Realms, Magical Law & Ethics, Herbalism & Forest Lore, Combat Magic & Defensive Spells, and more.
"Where do I even start?" Greg asked himself
Part 5: The Tainted Tome
Greg stood among the towering shelves of the Crownshade Institute's library, the faint hum of magic tickling the air. His eyes darted across the category list until one jumped out, Local Lore & Kingdom Histories. That's my ticket, he thought, stepping toward the dusty shelf. He grabbed a worn book, its pages brittle and coated in grime. Wiping off the dust, he skimmed the opening endless drivel about King Aldric IV and Queen Isolde's "glorious reign." Useless fluff, Greg groaned, shoving it back.
He reached for another book, this one newer, its leather cover gleaming. Better, he thought, settling onto a nearby bench to read. The pages laid out Eldoria in sharp detail: a shining but shaky kingdom in Aetheria, the heart of Elysara's vast continent. Aetheria sprawled with dense forests, the jagged Whispering Mountains to the north home to tribal clans and the Silverflow River to the south, a trade lifeline. Eldoria sat in the eastern midlands, with Thornbrook, a tough village of herbalists and farmers, to the east. Beyond Thornbrook stretched the Border Marshes, splitting Eldoria from Valthor's orcish forges. Westward lay Sylvandar's elven markets, north were the raiding Kharuun tribes, and south, past the Great Rift's ancient chasm, Drakmoor's dragon tamers prowled. Trade hub, but a magnet for trouble, Greg mused, hooked.
He was about to flip to Eldoria's origins when a black spore floated past, glinting in the lantern glow. Taint! Greg's heart skipped, relief hit first, backing his "investigation" lie, but dread followed. Someone's targeting these kids? He stood, tracking the spore's path to a shadowed corner. Oddly, the spores didn't thicken as he approached, explaining why he hadn't noticed them sooner. Sneaky, he thought, curiosity spiking. Then he saw them. Apparitions clustering in the corner. Teenagers in school uniforms, their faces streaked with endless, silent tears. What the hell happened to them?
The spores drifted from a thick, white-covered book on a low shelf, its title chilling, The Malediction Codex. The apparitions hovered closer, their sorrow heavy, urging Greg forward. Demon contract? Hopeful promises? He wondered, gripping his staff. This book's bad news. He stepped closer, ready to uncover its secrets, the weight of the ghosts' grief pressing on his chest.