Death Flower Party
[Warning: Subsequent chapters leading to the conclusion of this volume may contain content unsuitable for sensitive readers. You have been warned.]
In the heart of the realm, shrouded in darkness and dread, lies the Accursed Forest, one of the four most perilous territories known to the surrounding empire and its neighboring kingdoms. Legend has it that this ominous woodland has existed since the dawn of creation, a primordial remnant of a time long forgotten.
Devoid of any semblance of life, the forest is characterized by its eerie, colossal trees that stretch hundreds of meters into the sky, their gnarled branches weaving a canopy so dense that it swallows the sun's rays, plunging the land beneath into perpetual gloom.
The Accursed Forest is steeped in countless sinister tales, each more chilling than the last. Its fearsome reputation is such that even the mightiest beings, renowned archmages, revered saints, and powerful demon lords dare not venture into its shadowy depths.
The forest's inhabitants are enigmatic creatures of unfathomable origin, their very existence defying logic and reason. These abominations lurk within the darkness, their unpredictable and irrational nature only adding to the terror that pervades the forsaken land.
As one traverses the forest's twisted pathways, an unsettling sensation takes hold, a creeping feeling that the very land itself is alive, watching and waiting with bated breath. The air is thick with an oppressive malevolence, as if the forest itself hungers for the souls of those who dare to trespass upon its cursed soil.
In the Accursed Forest, horror lurks around every corner, and the line between reality and nightmare is blurred beyond recognition.
***
In the oppressive gloom of a dimly lit underground passage, the air reeked with the nauseating stench of unwashed blood. Farther down the corridor, the shattered remains of human bones lay scattered, a grotesque feast for the ravenous rat like creatures that gnawed at them voraciously.
Amidst this macabre scene, two men stood facing each other, their expressions unreadable.
"What is your name?" inquired the man draped in a pristine white cloak, his grip firm on a richly carved, mahogany staff. His gaze was fixed upon a figure before him, a man with raven black hair and a striking, full face mask.
The mask's design was a marvel to behold, boasting an intricate pattern of dark violet and blackish lines that wove together seamlessly. Protruding fangs added an air of menace to the visage, as if daring anyone to approach.
The man was clad in a supple black leather tunic, adorned with elaborate dark violet embroidery. His attire was completed by a pair of matching dark trousers, which only served to heighten the air of intrigue that surrounded him.
"Gabbi," the masked man replied, his voice steady and composed.
The man in the white cloak offered a subtle nod, his eyes flicking down to the parchment in his hand. "You have signed a different pact, but Master Preston said it's fine, as there's not much difference. You also have a debt of 30,000 gold dai coins to the Guild?"
Gabbi responded with a barely perceptible nod.
After several tense minutes of further questioning, the man in the white cloak seemed satisfied with the answers he had received.
"Follow me," he commanded, and together, they strode deeper into the nightmarish hallway.
As they emerged from the suffocating confines of the hallway, a cavernous expanse unfurled before them. The flickering glow of torchlight cast eerie shadows upon the cave walls.
In the distance, two caravans stood at the ready, poised for departure. The creatures harnessed to these vehicles were not the familiar horses one might expect, but rather a pair of formidable bipedal beasts. Their uncanny resemblance to the prehistoric velociraptor was striking, with their sleek, predatory forms and razor sharp talons.
At a distance, a distinguished gentleman sporting a monocle can be observed engaged in conversation with a rugged looking man in his mid thirties.
The latter bears a pair of double headed axes strapped to his back, and a tattooed number on his neck a telltale sign he is a prisoner in the illicit underground black market.
Shadowing the rough hewn man, a three of similarly marked individuals stand with tattooed numbers on their necks, each with their own distinct appearance.
The first, a lithe figure with long, flowing black hair; the second, a man with a protruding belly; and the third, a rather unattractive fellow with short, unkempt black hair.
As Gabbi and the man wearing a white cloak approached, he noticed two women standing behind the man with the monocle. Both women had chains fastened around their necks.
As they drew nearer, it became clear that the blonde haired woman was trying to comfort her companion, a woman with short, brown hair who was shaking uncontrollably.
The distinguished gentleman, adorned with a monocle, addressed a rugged looking man, "Joaquin, I present to you a quarter of the procured comfort women you requested. One is a virgin, while the other, is not. I must inform you that acquiring a battle slave is currently beyond our reach."
Joaquin paid little heed to the final remark, his gaze fixated on the two women before him. He couldn't help but lick his lips, particularly drawn to the one who trembled in fear.
With a subtle nod, he signaled his henchman to escort the women to the first caravan, ensuring their placement within his possession.
The man in the white cloak addressed Gabbi, "That is Joaquin, the strongest member currently in the Death Flower Party. It's up to you whether to heed his commands, but do remember the terms outlined in the agreement pact." Gabbi gave a subtle nod.
Joaquin's piercing gaze scrutinized Gabbi, his expression a mixture of disdain and curiosity. Turning to the man draped in the white cloak, he inquired, "Is this the final recruit?"
The cloaked man nodded in affirmation. Joaquin then directed his authoritative voice towards Gabbi, "Join the second caravan," before sauntering towards the first caravan, exuding an air of composure and confidence.
Gabbi contemplated for a moment before making his way toward the second caravan. As he reached the rear of the vehicle, he observed two men engaged in quiet conversation on the left side.
Shifting his gaze to the right, he noticed a dark skinned woman and a man who appeared to be in his early forties. The man had dark circles under his eyes and a slightly gaunt frame.
With a warm smile, the man with dark circles under his eyes inquired, "You must be the last one to join us, I presume?"
Gabbi offered a subtle nod in response, confirming, "Yes, that's correct."
The man extended his hand, introducing himself, "Well, come on in. My name is Larry." Gabbi studied the outstretched hand for a moment before reciprocating the gesture.
"Gabbi," he replied, as he took a seat beside the older gentleman.
The man seated across from Gabbi glanced at his friend beside him, exclaiming, "Hugo, that fucking kid must have foreseen this predicament!"
With a weary sigh, Hugo cast a discerning gaze upon his companion. "Berto, why are you accusing someone who isn't even present?" he queried.
"Besides, it was your own impulsive actions that led to this situation when you brazenly laid your hands on the derrière of the brothel proprietor's daughter. We were, in truth, fortunate to have been granted mercy, albeit at the cost of a rather exorbitant compensation."
Berto clenched his teeth in frustration, vehemently asserting, "I'm certain they tampered with my drink! It must have been a deliberate act!"
Hugo subtly conveyed a clandestine signal to Berto, a secret language shared only between the two of them.
Upon receiving the message, Berto's tense demeanor eased, and he turned his gaze towards Gabbi, studying him intently for a moment before shifting his attention to the cave outside.
The dark skinned woman cast a brief, enigmatic glance at Gabbi, while Larry tenderly examined his cherished round locket necklace. Hugo, on the other hand, appeared to be lost in contemplation, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and fear.
The first caravan had already vanished into the distance, swallowed by the vast expanse of the horizon, when the handler of the pair of bipedal creatures in the second caravan announced, "We are departing."
The caravan began to move at a leisurely pace, gradually picking up speed as a gentle breeze whispered through the cave, carrying with it the rhythmic sound of the bipedal creatures footsteps echoing against the walls. In the far distance, a glimmer of light beckoned, growing brighter and more inviting as they approached.
Upon emerging from the cave, the people were greeted by a breathtaking panorama of verdant landscapes and majestic trees.
Gabbi observed the scene with a serene calmness, as the caravan continued its journey towards the foreboding Accursed Forest.
***
As the caravan departed, the man draped in a pristine white cloak remarked, "This group is even more hopeless than the last. I've already written them off as dead." He sighed, continuing, "I can't fathom why the Grandmaster is investing so much in these people when there's nothing to be gained."
The man with the monocle merely observed his companion, then added, "I mean there's been no word from the nineteen parties that ventured there before, has there? And this year, for some inexplicable reason, the grotesque creatures' movements have become so erratic that only prisoners and debtors are willing to risk the journey."
As the monocle clad man began to walk away, his deep voice resonated, "We cannot presume to understand the Grandmaster's motives. We know he's doing everything in his power to save his daughter. Perhaps you're wondering why he doesn't go there himself?"
He paused before continuing, "Even the famous Golden Blade Silverwicks vanished without a trace in that forsaken place. If the Grandmaster desired, he would venture there without hesitation, fearlessly facing whatever awaits. So why does he hold back?"
The man's voice grew more solemn as he concluded, "There's more to this situation than meets the eye," before disappearing into the shadows.