Fates of Grenora: Return of the Night

Moira stared at the map on the table, formulating her thoughts until she looked up with a hard gaze. "There are three main powers of control that every gang falls under in Ebira: The Fist, The Veil, and The Tome." She paused, looking at everyone. "It just depends on who you want to take out first." She looked at Aldrin. "What is your Class?"

"Warrior focused," he answered before his gaze unfocused.

Moira nodded, "We will start with The Fist then. I think you'll have an easier time, and it will let me see how you can help me deal with the gang, who are old friends of mine." She pointed to the docking area that was colored gold. "Here, the Scarab Sons, rule this territory, a standardized military mercenary corps who sell their services to the highest bidder. The corp also deals in weapon trading, illegal spice trading and caravan protection on the high seas and occasional land-based ones for exclusive contracts. They are here six months out of the year before leaving on their fleets back to the desert kingdoms of Eurai. Their leader, Khal Emir Edran, is rumored to be a middle-class noble within Eurai's society, and is supposedly tied to a fire djinn."

Before she continued, there was a ruckus above them, and someone forcefully opened the basement door. Jared came down the steps grumbling to himself, with a smirking Buramog-Kurdan behind him followed by Tar-Xur. The three of them found space around the table, overlooking the map.

Pierre shook his head. "Shouldn't have left so fast," he chastised. Jared made a face at Pierre, who smirked at him.

"Continue, don't mind them." Evie said with a small smile.

Moira refocused and traced her finger along the map, closer to the middle entrance of the town that was colored in brown. "Here at the old guardhouse, the Iron Reavers make their home, who are your typical brutish gang. They focus on racketeering by cornering and forcing local businesses into buying their services for protection against any shop rivals. Of course, you can imagine what happens when you don't pay on time. They are under the leadership of a dwarf named Thassor the Beardless, who forges binding oaths of blood into rings that signify allegiance. Those rings also have a nasty side-effect of trapping the person in a killable curse should they break the agreement before their time is up."

Moira moved her finger east of the entrance ‌they first came in from, stopping at the crimson-colored area. "The Ash Vultures are a cult of gladiators and war-born fanatics. Their main base of operations is the Birds of Paradise, a bar with an underground fighting arena. They lure the downtrodden and homeless with promises of endless wealth to participate in their arena to appease their fucked up god. Skarra the Cannibal keeps them in check, but she also has a hand in supplying corpses to one of The Tome gangs. It also wouldn't surprise me if the gang is also in the slave trade for their rituals."

She sat back down. "Those three make up The Fist of Ebira. Who is our first target?" Moira asked, looking at Aldrin, who was tracing the stubble along his jaw.

Aldrin's mind whirled with how he wanted to do this. "Which ones usually fight for territory?" he asked.

"The Iron Reavers and Ash Vultures. They have always fought each other, and recently they have started to uptick their fighting in the streets at night. It's mostly over small things, but the Ash Vultures have been rounding up more and more homeless people, going as far as poaching them from the Iron Reavers," Moira informed, staring down at the map. She took out a pencil, drawing a line between the two territories that were starting to border each other. "Most nights you'll find them fighting here," she said, tracing her finger on the line she just drew.

Aldrin nodded. "Buramog-Kurdan, round up the warriors and bring them in throughout the rest of the day. Trickle them in as not to alarm any other gangs that might have eyes in the area. Make sure they aren't wearing their armor until I send word. Pierre, go with him so I can contact you."

Buramog-Kurdan thumped his fist against his chest. "It will be done, my chief."

"And if we are questioned?" Pierre asked with a raised eyebrow.

Aldrin smirked. "A little gold piece here and there goes a long way. I'm sure most would look the other way since they are used to seeing only silver coins. If they do get a little greedy, kill them."

Pierre blinked at the sudden declaration but nodded still.

Aldrin looked back at Moira. "Any high-level individuals I should be worried about?"

Moira frowned and shook her head. "Any high leveled ones are kept close to the leader. You might see one or two Tier 4's but those are just meant as a deterrent to keep the other Tier 4s out. Mostly Tier 1 through 3 fight at night trying to gain levels to elevate themselves to Tier 4."

Aldrin chuckled darkly. "Good, then they won't see me coming."

Evie snapped her head toward Aldrin. "Aldrin, what are you planning?" she cautiously asked.

"I am a Vampire, so I am going to do what I'm best at, what I'm designed to do." Aldrin said. "Stay here and plan with Moira. I have a feeling The Veil and Tome gangs are going to be watching more closely after tonight." He told Evie. "Jared, take a closer look at the Scarab Sons. See how much their prices are and exclusivity of contracts."

"Uh, ok? Wouldn't Pierre be better suited for it and I go with Buramog instead?" Jared asked.

Aldrin shook his head. "No. I also need to know if they have any beasts. Animals and monsters alike seem to be more docile in your presence. Something that would be a game changer if I want to convert it."

A light bulb went off in Jared as understanding bloomed within his eyes. "I see… I'll get right on it."

"What are you going to do?" Moira asked, crossing her arms.

"Go for a walk." Aldrin answered, and Evie and Pierre let out a heavy sigh, making Aldrin smile. Moira looked at the two with an unspoken question on her face.

"It means shit is going to hit the fan sometime during the night," Pierre answered with a shake of his head.

"And when it hits, it's going to hit hard." Evie added.

Moira still looked confused. "What-"

Aldrin placed a hand on her shoulder, and she tried to suppress a shudder. Aldrin's eyes narrowed at that but brushed it off. "It just means everything is going to be ok."

Evie scoffed and laughed. "I wonder what it's going to be this time."

"Evie!" Aldrin hissed. "I am not that bad!"

Evie waved him off and looked at Pierre. "Back me up here."

"Its pretty bad," Pierre said with a wry grin forming.

Aldrin laughed as he moved to head up the stairs and out into the town. "Just be ready, guys. I'll see you sometime tonight."

"Right, well, good luck, guys!" Jared was the next to leave, followed by Pierre, Buramog-Kurdan, and Tar-Xur, leaving Evie alone with a very confused looking Moira.

Moira blinked, trying to regain her focus after the suddenness. "Are they always like this?" she asked Evie, who only nodded.

Above Aldrin snaked his way around the city, heading for the point where the two gangs would eventually meet. He arrived at a desolate town square where dried blood still lingered. He wrinkled his nose at the scent when he inhaled, attempting to find any hidden scents around him. There was one, but it was faint and moving away from him. He nodded to himself and moved to an alleyway between two boarded-up buildings, then jumped onto the roof of one with a single leap and hid himself away from any prying eyes.

"Come on," he said, and his armor grew over him as he donned his silver Elven Circlet of Authority. He waited for the crimson-black armor to finish forming over him and then pulled up the system tab for it.

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He selected it, and a list of options was presented to him. Thinking of the situation he was about to embark on, he was torn between two options. Veinlink, which would let the armor siphon blood from enemies he killed, healing him in return. The other, Whispers of the Hunted, made the ghosts of slain enemies temporarily appear to their allies, spreading fear. Both were very strong and useful first-tier perks. However, he leaned more towards Whispers of the Hunted since his other skill, Leech Imbuement, already did the job of replenishing him.

He grinned and settled in for the night. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long. His acute hearing picked up ‌the clinking and clanging of heavy plate armor and weapons. Aldrin moved into a crouching position, calling the shadows to obscure him as he peeked over the building's edge. From his vantage point, two distinct opposing forces swelled on both ends of the desolate town square.

Orcs, Dwarves, and Humans armored in mismatched plate armor stood on one side. A brown banner with the symbol of a clenched iron gauntlet gripping a broken spear stood in the middle of the group. On the other end, Dark Elves, Orcs, Night Goblins, which were a darker shade of green and more animalistic looking than their original counterparts, arrayed together. They weren't heavily armored like the group across from them, choosing a mixture of heavy chest guards and padded leathering for the rest. Most of them held two weapons in their hands, brandishing and screaming obscenities at the heavily armored group. Their banner was crimson with a vulture skull.

A well-built Dark Elf with cropped white hair and grey skin strode forward from the Ash Vultures group, stopping at the ruined well that sat in the middle of the square. He wore chainmail and held an elegant scimitar in one hand and a dagger in the other. From the other group, a heavily armored Dwarf came. His deep red beard was the only thing visible about him as it swayed in tune with his walk. A large hammer was slung over his shoulder, ready to be used at amoment's notice.

Aldrin took stock of both sides, and while the Ash Vultures looked to be ragtag, they had an aura that screamed they would take as many as they could with them before dying. The Iron Reavers, on the other hand, looked more professional or at least gave the illusion of being professional, something he would have to keep an eye on in the future.

The two leaders at the well spoke, and Aldrin tuned his hearing.

"You know the rules, Kuldrim," the Dark Elf nodded at the Dwarf.

"Aye, no funny business either, Zivri." Kuldrim spat on the ground between them.

Both of them nodded once and took two steps back before showing their back to each other. They said something to their group, and they cheered as they pulled out their weapons. The Dwarf, Kuldrim, raised his hand and then swiped it down. His group rushed at the Ash Vultures, which surprised Aldrin as he expected them to be the ones to rush in. The Ash Vultures weren't a step behind either as they rushed to meet them in the middle. With bated breath and keen eyes, Aldrin watched the lines clash, the desolate town square quickly forming into an arena.

Aldrin watched the bloodshed unfold from his spot on the roof, the blood screaming at him to indulge. He stood, his silhouette obscured by the moonlight as he released his hold on the shadows that covered him. Nobody noticed him as he did so. The careful control he held over himself vanished, letting the monster bristle forth to the surface. Fangs and claws grew, his skin paled to an ashen grey color, and his hair turned white. Glowing green eyes looked down at the skirmish, and he released his Vampiric Aura. The few sensitive ones noticed, and they looked around as they sensed danger on a scale they had never felt.

Sin-Screamer appeared in Aldrin's hand, its faint glowing purple runes that ran up and down blade pulsed in anticipation of the oncoming slaughter. The edge of Sin-Screamer had a faint red aura when he activated Leech Imbuement, which would grant him health from his attacks. Blood Aura communed and mixed with his Vampiric Aura as he faced more than five enemies, granting him a greater boost to his Strength.

He roared with Roar of the Apex, silencing all abilities, passives, and drawing attention to the building he stood on. The melee died down as they all stared. Aldrin jumped high into the air, slamming down on top of a stunned Orc. He swung Sin-Screamer, activating Cleaving Strikes, bisecting two Humans, and beheading a Night Goblin.

The shock of Aldrin's appearance wore off, and they all changed targets to Aldrin. Aldrin welcomed the challenge and swung every which way without restraint. His Strength and Dexterity boosted from his Daywalker passive, which granted him a bonus at night. The effects of Roar of the Apex wore off, and Skills were used again against Aldrin and each other. His armor, the Lord of Daymares, and his cloak, Delena's Veil, came alive.

The shadow tendrils lashed out from all around, dragging their victims to the ground, draining them of all life and replenishing Aldrin. His armor's newest ability activated as ghosts rose from the dead, wailing in confusion to those who weren't prepared, giving Aldrin time to shift into fog, dispersing amongst the crowd. He reformed by turning into a direbear, swiping his massive claws, shredding a Dark Elf, splattering blood on his nearest comrade.

A Night Goblin shook as he stared at death incarnate. Glowing green eyes passed over him before he felt a quickened, sharp pain and his vision changed to the view of the night sky. In the edges of his sight, black encroached until he could no longer keep his eyes open, falling into an endless slumber.

System alerts blared for Aldrin's attention, but he ignored them as he continued his wanton slaughter. He switched to a swarm of bats, half forming his body and grabbing up an Orc that helplessly stabbed at his armor. Undead Body that made mundane and magical weapons irrelevant plus his armor gave Aldrin the sense of invulnerability. He carried the Orc into the air and he latched onto his neck, draining him of his life.

He released the Orc's husk, letting it fall and shatter into bone splinters that speared through those closest to the impact. Aldrin slammed into a Human and grabbed him by the arm and flung him around, activating Bloodletter Slam. He threw him onto the ground, cracking the stone on impact as his bones ripped through his skin. Sin-Screamer reappeared, and he swung again, a phantom blade trailing behind from its Echoes perk.

Some tried to scramble away, but it was futile as shadow tendrils wrapped around their legs, dragging them back towards Aldrin, who would drain each one the tendrils offered to him. The shadow tendrils whipped again, flinging away three throwing daggers that were aimed at him. Within Aldrin's sense sphere, he felt more and more. His body, moving more on instinct than anything. He turned to face his next opponent, the Dwarf, Kuldrim was there, brandishing his large hammer. Kuldrim charged forth, using a Skill to make himself shine.

Aldrin returned the favor by using Dread Charge, and they met, clashing in an explosion that made a few around them fall back. Aldrin was the first to recover, pouncing on top of Kuldrim, rending through his armor with his claws. Kuldrim grabbed Aldrin's arms, briefly stopping them but it was no use as Aldrin twisted his own arm, breaking it to get free. It snapped back in place, and he rammed ‌his claws through the slit of Kuldrim's helmet.

He lifted the dead Dwarf, ripping his head from his body, roaring in victory. Around him, the melee continued as it devolved into a free for all. The fear Aldrin exuded clouded judgement, making others not recognize friend from foe any longer.

"We are here. Just say the word." Pierre told Aldrin through the Servant Bond.

"Now," Aldrin replied.

Confusion was sown again as Orcs in dark metal plate armor flooded from the alleyways, cutting large swathes of the gang members with their Runed Iron halberds. The once organized gang war was turned into a massacre for Aldrin and his Orcs.

On the outskirts of it all, Zivri, the Dark Elf of the Ash Vultures, stared in horror. "It cannot be…" he whispered in fear. The screams of the dying shook him out of his shock, and he turned and fled.

Aldrin glimpsed the fleeing Dark Elf but paid him no mind as he punched an Iron Reaver in the chest, denting the armor he wore. He grabbed him by the foot and activated Bloodletter Slam, using an Ash Vulture Orc as a point of contact. Both of them exploded in a shower of gore and bone. Aldrin roared again using Roar of the Apex, canceling all abilities once more. The slaughter continued well into the night and into dawn, his Orcs cleaning up the last remnants that struggled and clung to life. A few escaped throughout the night, but it would only fuel the rumors that would spread from the night.

Aldrin let the Human he was draining fall to the ground. All around him, bodies and limbs littered the town square. The cobblestones had been dyed red from all the blood, and in the middle of it all stood Aldrin, staring up at the sky and the rising dawn that came.

"Chief," Buramog-Kurdan called from behind him.

Aldrin looked over his shoulder, his monstrous side receding and being replaced by the man. "Is it done?"

"Yes, Chief."

Aldrin purred that edged on a growl from the back of his throat, "Good. Rest today, and tomorrow we begin again. The Fist will know fear by the end of the week."

Buramog-Kurdan thumped his fist to his chest. "As you command." He turned and left, rounding up the rest of the Orcs and dispersing back into the alleyways.

Aldrin shifted into a swarm of bats, rising into the dawning sky, leaving behind the carnage he had wrought as a message to the gangs of Ebira.