Fates of Grenora: Return of the Night

Moira stared at the carnage with wide eyes. She was used to death, but what this was before her transcended that. All around here, the bodies of both gangs lay mutilated, drained into husks, or simply torn in two. Most of it was done by Aldrin, but there were a few you could tell that weren't.

Evie sighed, breaking Moira out of her trance. "This is what happens when he goes for walks," she said, looking dispassionately at the scene.

"H-How have you guys not been caught…?" Moira stuttered.

"Because it's never innocent people he's killed," Evie declared, kicking an arm away from her.

Crows circled, a few brave ones descending and gorging themselves on the meat of the dead. They paid no mind to Evie and Moira but still kept them within eyesight. Moira tried to hide her disgust, but the stench made bile rise in the back of her throat.

Evie straightened after getting a telepathic message through the Servant Bond. "We've got to go. We are being summoned. Jared's found something interesting."

Moira didn't register, still taking in everything around her. "I'll-I'll catch up in a minute," she said, having a hard time tearing her gaze from the mound of bodies.

Evie wanted to say something and reached out but stopped short, turning to leave Moira to her thoughts. After she was gone, the pink Fae, Torvina, appeared next to her.

"What do you think?" She asked teasingly. "He's great, isn't he?"

"What is he…?" Moira asked, looking at Torvina out of the corner of her eye.

"Hope for some, despair for others." Torvina shrugged. "The question you should be asking is, what is he to you?" She vanished in a puff of pink smoke. Moira took one last gaze and turned away from it, heading back to their newly dubbed hideout, the basement of her apartment building.

Meanwhile, Zivri, one survivor of the Ash Vultures, stumbled and crashed through the doors of Birds of Paradise. It was all wooden furniture, cracked beige walls, with metal chandeliers for lighting. Along the walls, weapons of every make decorated them. Behind the bar that was being manned by another fellow Dark Elf were the stairs leading down to the fight pits.

"SKARRA!" Zivri bellowed, brushing past the Dark Elf bartender. "SKARRA!" He called again, nearly tripping down the stairs.

Below, a caged arena was the first to greet him. There were two members of the gang currently sparring in it while others sat around it, cheering, betting, and drinking to their hearts' content. "SKARRA!!!" Zivri screamed at the top of his lungs, and the activities ceased as they all looked at the rattled Dark Elf.

A tanned, black-haired woman with red Giantese tattoos marking her skin stood from her makeshift throne ‌that was placed on the other side of the arena cage. She wore metal pauldrons, a scaled leather chest guard, ripped pants with chainmail underneath, and metal boots. Her hands were covered in metal gauntlets that glimmered with etched runes. Her coal-black eyes immediately landed on Zivri, who practically threw himself at her feet. "What?" She growled, annoyed that her entertainment was being interrupted. Zivri looked up at her with a haunted expression, something that ignited a fire within her.

Zivri hesitated as his mind tried to reconcile the night before. "I bring grave news," he shook.

Skarra gestured for him to continue, and he visibly shook more, not because of her but because of something else. Something darker. Something that was supposed to be extinct.

"Our new recruits were slaughtered." Zivri quietly said and looked down at the steps, keeping her feet in his vision, fearing retaliation, but it never came.

Skarra chuckled first then laughed, "So those iron pigs finally put up a fight?!" She laughed harder.

"It wasn't by them…" Zivri whispered, never looking up from the ground, making Skarra cease her laughter.

Skarra looked down at the Dark Elf. "What do you mean it wasn't them?" She fumed. "Who the fuck was it then?! One of the other gangs trying to one up us or something?"

Zivri breathed, calming himself, and raised his head, looking more dead than alive. "Death himself. Not a man, not even a beast, but Death.

Skarra blinked, looked around at her fellow gladiators who slowly gathered around them and laughed once more. "Death himself?" She laughed. "Come now, Zivri! We've faced death countless times! We know what he looks like!" She threw her hands up, riling up those around her. The others cheered in agreement, sloshing their drinks as they mashed them together.

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Zivri furiously shook his head. "You pompous-"

WHACK

Zivri's head snapped back before the rest of him crumbled to the ground. Half his face was caved in from the monstrous blow that came from Skarra's punch. Blood pooled around him as he struggled to breathe. Skarra moved to stand over him. "I don't like that word," she quietly sneered. "Now, I suggest you remember this the next time you want to insult me. With that being said, get your shit together, Zivri, before I deem you the next sacrifice to our god," she hissed. "Heal him up!" She commanded.

An Orc pushed his way to the front, a Healing Potion in one hand and his other hand raised with ethereal white light. He placed his glowing hand on Zivri's face, healing it just enough for him to get the potion in his mouth. Zivri's face reformed good as new, but the pain was still there. However, the memory of those cold, glowing green eyes burned in his mind.

"It killed twenty men before I fled, Skarra, by itself." Zivri quietly replied. "And not just ours, the Reavers' men too."

That caught Skarra's attention. "An enemy of my enemy is my friend, no?" She raised a thick eyebrow.

"It's no one's friend but its own! And when it comes, you'll do well to remember that," Zivri stood, brushing himself off and staring Skarra in the eye. "We are already dead if it's here in the city. It's only a matter of time before it makes its way here and when it does, nothing will stop it if what I've seen has any indication. Nothing, Skarra."

"Well, what the fuck is it that you keep talking in riddles about?" A Human gladiator asked from among the gathered crowd.

Zivri sighed, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway, but it was what my people call a Gesh'ie." Some of the Dark Elves flinched at the word and looked amongst themselves. Zivri gave a perceptive nod to them that caused their eyes to widen momentarily.

Skarra looked around just as confused as the rest. "What the hells is a Gesh'ie?" She asked, taking a seat.

Zivri looked back at her like a man who had seen the end of his life and accepted it. "The thing that lives between shadows, the silence underneath your screams when you have none left to give, unyielding hunger made incarnate. A Vampire."

Around them, murmurs from the gladiators arose. Some brushed it off and laughed, but the others, the Dark Elves, looked grim faced from Zivri's words.

Skarra scoffed. "Those are tales from a world that no longer exists. There are no Vampires here. The Holy Order made sure of that."

"Go to the old square and see for yourself, then tell me what the fuck did that! Hells, all of you go to the square and see!" Zivri shouted, silencing the muttering crowd. "It's here! And it's coming whether you believe me or not, but I'm getting the fuck out of here." Zivri announced, ripping off the two vulture feathers that were tucked in his shoulder guard that denoted his rank within the gang. He took one last look around. "The time of the night has returned, my brothers and sisters. Go home, spread the word. It's time," he spoke in Dark Elven to his kin, then turned to Skarra, gave a sharp, curt bow and walked away. The gang members parted for him as they watched him climb back up the stairs. Skarra watched as other Dark Elves ripped their vulture feathers, following Zivri's lead, leaving the gang behind.

"We have no use for fools guided by superstitions!" Skarra scoffed again, but in the back of her mind she saw the fear and the cold acceptance Zivri displayed and it nagged at her.

His words about the old square ran through her mind. "Tenev, Lyle, Borh, with me. Now." She commanded, and two blond-haired Humans and a Night Goblin followed behind her as she left.

They arrived at the old square, and her eyes widened at the bodies that littered the ground. The blood was drying and beginning to cake the ground. The crows and flies gorged themselves on the flesh of the dead. "By the old ones…" one Human whispered.

Borh, the Night Goblin went ahead to the nearest body. He knelt down, inspecting what was left of the body from being split in two. "Trained. Brutally efficient. Strong. Very strong." He said and rose back up. "Whatever Zivri claimed could be true, but I'll need more time with the bodies."

Skarra said nothing the entire time as she looked at the bodies. She spat on the ground and turned, stomping back to the Birds of Paradise. Zivri's words were now fully at the forefront of her mind. She arrived back at the bar and slid onto the bar stool. The Dark Elf who had once manned it was now long gone, so she reached over the bar, grabbed herself a bottle and a shot glass. She poured one, threw it back with ease, then poured another, throwing it back, and kept pouring until the bottle was empty. She threw the empty bottle against the wall, shattering it.

"What the fuck…" she huffed, wondering if what Zivri said was true. She waited there for an hour, the bar slowly filling up with its usual patrons. An Orc ascended ‌the steps from the stairwell behind the bar and was startled to see Skarra lost in the bottom of another bottle.

The doors opened, and a pale-faced Tenev, a grim-looking Lyle, and Borh, who appeared indifferent but had his shoulders bunched high, showing his real disposition, entered. "Skarra," Borh gruffly said, hopping up onto the stool next to her. "Whatever did that was an animal and a man. There was a scent there underneath all that death." He tried to find the right words.

"What was it?" Skarra asked, not bothering to look at the night goblin.

Borh growled. "The thing is, I don't know, but it smelled strong, dangerously strong." His shoulders bunched tighter as if the very thing he smelled would strike when his guard lowered.

Skarra chuckled. "That scared little shit…" she shook her head. "Tenev, Lyle, start training everyone. No more fights until we know what exactly is out there. I want patrols around the clock. Pull back from the Iron Reaver territory too." Skarra ordered, making Tenev and Lyle look at one another and nod, heading behind the bar and down the steps.

"Borh, round up your best. Find this thing and kill it before it gets out of hand." Skarra quietly said, and the Night Goblin nodded, hopping down from the stool and hastily walking out of the bar, leaving Skarra to her thoughts as she swirled the liquid in her drink.