"Episode One: We Found Him"
- City of Winterlight -
"Frostfire Festival"
"
I-I don't want to do it."
The man in the gas mask leaned ever so slightly forward from the velvet chair in front of the princess' balcony. She stood there, trembling, yet defiant under the red moonlight that did nothing but make the shadows under the hood and blood-red hair of one of the most infamous criminals in Winterlight more menacing.
"I'm glad you said that, Princess Camilla, otherwise this would have been very boring." he stood up, carelessly stepping on the bodies of her unconscious knights. "I look forward to playing with you. My condolences for your father's death, and congratulations to your coronation tomorrow. Youngest queen of the kingdom, my, my, you have much to prove."
"I'm not afraid of you!" she blurted at his retreating back.
The masked man laughed, and without looking back at her said, "Of course!" he picked up her fallen crown on the floor and gazed at it. "In front of all this power, what can little ol' me do?"
* * * *
It was the dawn after the bloodmoon, the first day of winter and the celebration of the Frostfire Festival here in the grand bustling city of Winterlight. Hundreds of lanterns floated up to the sky over the city's cliffside, greeting the rising sun.
People were making merry, dancing in the streets lined with food stalls steaming with sizzling meat, and hawkers shouting out their magical wares to visiting folks from afar. There was talk of Princess Camilla's coronation at high noon, gladness and hope that a kind heart will rebuild what was left after the war the late King had lost against his sons and start a new era of peace. It had been a time of poverty and strife the past ten years when the King gave his lands to his three sons who fought over it, then turned against him when he tried to get it back. Now, victorious they had given the land they cared the least to their sister. The land most damaged, most divided by those greedy for power, where the innocents have been abandoned to pick up the pieces.
And this is where the stories of our heroes begin. As the dawn rose on the faces of the companions who had been travelling together for a while in search of one common goal:
A man named Lucien, whom they've learned dwelt in the underbelly of Winterlight's most crime ridden district, Lynch Wharf. In the territory of the crime boss, Sharkie Fastfingers, an informant had told them that Lucien frequented the popular tavern, Serenity, where he'd chill out listening to the local bards.
It was an hour's walk from the more light-hearted and cheerful city market square atop the cliffside, where a job board was being surrounded by mercenaries looking to earn some silver, a smithy bellowed smoke from its chimney, and an inn called the Jolly Bulldog was starting to serve breakfast to its patrons.
What would you like to do?