Maxxob
The Overseer
Maverick Six
| Marcus
The provincial capital of Vindrel, a frontier outpost caught between untamed wilderness and the splendor of the Empire's order, hummed with the noise of marching soldiers and the clang of forges. The setting sun cast a golden hue over the marble statues that dotted the town square, their weathered faces gazing stoically toward the looming eastern mountains. Despite the veneer of imperial pride, tension lingered in the air.
Inside the Vindrel garrison, the atmosphere was heavier still. The stone walls of the briefing hall were lit by torches that flickered in the draft, their light reflecting off maps pinned to wooden boards. The room was small, almost suffocating, with the faint scent of iron and parchment lingering in the air. At the center stood Alexas Maximus, clad in her golden centurion armor. Her blue eyes, sharp but weary, scrutinized a report in her hand. A faint scar under one eye twitched as she read, the small detail adding to her otherwise commanding presence.
Her armor, though polished to a shine, bore faint scratches from recent skirmishes, and her stance betrayed exhaustion. She shifted her weight slightly, adjusting the red cape draped over one shoulder. The young centurion looked up briefly as Marcus entered, her gaze assessing him before softening into a smirk that didn’t quite reach her tired eyes.
“Things might have been different there if you had joined it…” she remarked, her voice low and tinged with dry humor. She let the comment hang for a moment before shaking her head and waving Marcus forward. “But enough of that. You’re here now and this other problem is what matters.”
She strode toward a wooden table bearing an unfurled map of the Illyros ruins. Her gauntleted hand hovered over the marked location. “Illyros. Used to be a thriving town—until they tried to bite the hand that fed them. The Emperor’s wrath left nothing but rubble and stories of restless spirits to keep locals away. That is, until people started vanishing.”
Her voice hardened, though the fatigue never left her face. “Merchants, villagers, even a patrol sent to investigate—gone without a trace. One scout made it back, half-mad, babbling about shadows and strange clicking sounds. You’ll be interested in this.” She plucked a small metal shard from the table and held it up, the faint glint of its surface catching the torchlight. It was jagged and worn, but unmistakably unnatural, like the fragment of some crude machine.
“Found this embedded in a tree near the scout’s escape route. Whatever’s out there isn’t just a band of raiders or wild beasts.”
Alexas turned her full attention to Marcus now, crossing her arms over her armored chest. “You’ve got experience with these kinds of things—abominations, monsters, whatever the hell they are. I won’t insult your intelligence by sugarcoating it: this is going to be ugly. But if we’re to avoid panic, we need this handled quickly and quietly.”
She gestured toward the map again, indicating several marked entry points into the ruins. “Your call on how to approach it. If you need anything—supplies, information, whatever—ask now. Otherwise, I’ll have a scout guide you to the outskirts of Illyros. After that, you’re on your own.”
Alexas paused, her expression softening ever so slightly as she regarded him. “Try not to join the list of missing, Marcus. We need someone to bring this nightmare to an end.”
With that, she stepped back, leaving the table and the choice of how to proceed firmly in Marcus’s hands. The room seemed to hold its breath, the flickering torchlight casting ominous shadows over the map.
The provincial capital of Vindrel, a frontier outpost caught between untamed wilderness and the splendor of the Empire's order, hummed with the noise of marching soldiers and the clang of forges. The setting sun cast a golden hue over the marble statues that dotted the town square, their weathered faces gazing stoically toward the looming eastern mountains. Despite the veneer of imperial pride, tension lingered in the air.
Inside the Vindrel garrison, the atmosphere was heavier still. The stone walls of the briefing hall were lit by torches that flickered in the draft, their light reflecting off maps pinned to wooden boards. The room was small, almost suffocating, with the faint scent of iron and parchment lingering in the air. At the center stood Alexas Maximus, clad in her golden centurion armor. Her blue eyes, sharp but weary, scrutinized a report in her hand. A faint scar under one eye twitched as she read, the small detail adding to her otherwise commanding presence.
Her armor, though polished to a shine, bore faint scratches from recent skirmishes, and her stance betrayed exhaustion. She shifted her weight slightly, adjusting the red cape draped over one shoulder. The young centurion looked up briefly as Marcus entered, her gaze assessing him before softening into a smirk that didn’t quite reach her tired eyes.
“Things might have been different there if you had joined it…” she remarked, her voice low and tinged with dry humor. She let the comment hang for a moment before shaking her head and waving Marcus forward. “But enough of that. You’re here now and this other problem is what matters.”
She strode toward a wooden table bearing an unfurled map of the Illyros ruins. Her gauntleted hand hovered over the marked location. “Illyros. Used to be a thriving town—until they tried to bite the hand that fed them. The Emperor’s wrath left nothing but rubble and stories of restless spirits to keep locals away. That is, until people started vanishing.”
Her voice hardened, though the fatigue never left her face. “Merchants, villagers, even a patrol sent to investigate—gone without a trace. One scout made it back, half-mad, babbling about shadows and strange clicking sounds. You’ll be interested in this.” She plucked a small metal shard from the table and held it up, the faint glint of its surface catching the torchlight. It was jagged and worn, but unmistakably unnatural, like the fragment of some crude machine.
“Found this embedded in a tree near the scout’s escape route. Whatever’s out there isn’t just a band of raiders or wild beasts.”
Alexas turned her full attention to Marcus now, crossing her arms over her armored chest. “You’ve got experience with these kinds of things—abominations, monsters, whatever the hell they are. I won’t insult your intelligence by sugarcoating it: this is going to be ugly. But if we’re to avoid panic, we need this handled quickly and quietly.”
She gestured toward the map again, indicating several marked entry points into the ruins. “Your call on how to approach it. If you need anything—supplies, information, whatever—ask now. Otherwise, I’ll have a scout guide you to the outskirts of Illyros. After that, you’re on your own.”
Alexas paused, her expression softening ever so slightly as she regarded him. “Try not to join the list of missing, Marcus. We need someone to bring this nightmare to an end.”
With that, she stepped back, leaving the table and the choice of how to proceed firmly in Marcus’s hands. The room seemed to hold its breath, the flickering torchlight casting ominous shadows over the map.