This is my first post on here. Please comment on it. This is only a brief part of the story.
Night settled on the small village of Tunvil. Nothing stirred in the little town and the only lights still on came from Loksley’s Smith, because poor Loksley had fallen asleep while making his final batch of horseshoes. Tunvil was located in a valley, surrounded by a forest, deep in the northern reaches of the land of Glesid. A branch of the Agest River split the village in two, one side being a series of residential cottages, the other being businesses and official buildings. The people of Tunvil separated themselves from the troubles of Glesid, from the wars of elves and dark lords. The townsfolk preferred to live a simple life and cared nothing about things that happened outside of the village. They lived this way since the forming of Glesid and only few things changed their daily schedule.
One of those things was the discovery of a large pearl, about a third of a man’s fist, stuck in the large fishing nets, strung across the Agest. The local fishermen used large nets to catch any fish coming down the river, but one day, the fishermen noticed the shiny pearl in the net, along with the regular Bluetides, good size fish that were the main meal fish. But things weren’t right; all of the fish were dead. The nets were in the water the whole time and needed to be pulled out to retrieve what was caught in them, so there was no way that the fish could have suffocated. Confused about what had happened, the fishermen simply shrugged it off as an unexplainable occurrence, returning to their simple lives, as if nothing had happened. Not knowing what to do with the pearl, the fishermen sold it to the smith, Loksley, who had a great interest in rare gems. But no one in Tunvil suspected what the pearl really was, and sadly, the town would pay dearly for their ignorance.
Standing on a hill before Tunvil, two black horses, their hair groomed finely, stamped their feet impatiently. Their riders stood before them, surveying the village.
“Patience is a virtue some say. But the time for patience is over; we shall retrieve the Heraphod now.”
The leader of the two figures said in a silky voice. Their eyes glowed pure white and long crimson hair flowed behind them. Dressed in black, hoodless robes, they resembled priests. At each ones side, there was a long rapier, the hilt of each sword having a circular design made of diamonds. Returning to their horses, the two journeyed to the village. They slowly made their way down the valley side until they came to the foot of the river. The horses backed away from the blackness of water, lacking the courage of their masters. Reluctantly, the horses entered the river, sloshing their way across it, to the business side of Tunvil. There was a bridge located in the center of the village, connecting the two sides, but it was well lighted and the figures who rode through the water preferred to travel under darkness.
Finally across the river, the two dismounted their horses and crept their way through the shadows, finally coming to the door of Loksley the smith. Pressing his hand to the large wooden door, the leader of the two chanted a quick prayer to their god. The area around his hand began to glow white and the area spread across the door like fire. When the door was completely covered by the glow, he backed away and they both closed their eyes. The door smoldered to nothing but ash and left and open space to walk through. Before entering the smith shop, the leader withdrew a tiny black orb from his robe and tossed it inside of the shop. The light from within the building was vanquished as if a wind had blown out the candle and the two walked into the dark room. In one corner of the room laid Loksley, a burly man with arms the size of tree trunks, awakened from his sleep and staring into the darkness before him.
“Eh, what’s going on here? Who blew out my candle?” Loksley yelled into the darkness before him.
“Shut up, you pathetic waste of life. Where is the Heraphod?” the leader said.
“I don’t know about any Heraphod, but if that’s how you’re going to be I’ll give you a fight.” Loksley replied.
He leapt from his chair surprisingly quick for a big man and swung at the figures with his fist. Without flinching, the leader’s pale hand snatched Loksley around the neck and lifted him off of the floor. Pressing hard around his neck, the leader asked one more time
“Where is the Heraphod pearl? Tell me now or I shall not hesitate to crush you.”
Barely able to think, Loksley pointed to a pile of tools, atop a stone counter. Dropping him to the ground, the leader walked to the tools. Lying on a piece of dirty leather was the Heraphod, one of the three Pearls of Chaos. It looked like any regular pearl, besides the fact that it was large. His eyes alit with joy; he picked up the pearl and placed it in his black robe.
“Who are you foul people?” Loksley gasped from his position on the floor.
“Who are we is the wrong question. What are we suits us more. We are NightWraiths; creatures of the dark. But that information will be of little use to you now.” The NightWraith leader said, exiting the door, followed by the other NightWraith.
Remounting their horses, the two entered into a speedy gallop until they arrived at a safe distance from the village.
Turning back to Tunvil, the NightWraith leader declared in a loud voice “Now to finish what was started centuries ago by our forefathers.”
Raising their hands in the direction of Tunvil, they chanted a long forgotten language, in unison. An energy began to build in their palms, until it became a large ball above them, as darker than night. Releasing the energy, it swirled until it was directly above the town. Suddenly, the ball of energy dropped in midair, falling towards the sleeping Tunvil. Fire erupted from the ball of energy and quickly engulfed the village. Screams could be heard as people were awoken from their sleep and ran to flee the flames. As the village burned, the NightWraiths did not notice a single horse flee the blaze, riding into the forest. Pleased with their work, the two NightWraiths turned and rode away, the pearl of Heraphod safely tucked in the leader’s robe.
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