Active [Vindrel - East Empire] The Shadow of Illyros

[Maxxob]

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.

Alexas Maximus
​

“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.

 

[Maverick Six]

Marcus Banecroft
Interaction: Maxxob
Titles: Human (Mundane), Hospitaller, Eastern Empire Military E, Abomination Fighter, Rico's Roughneck, Peacekeeper
Language Key: | "Common" | "[Terran]" |

​

The Ordeal

Would things truly have been different?

It hadn't really been too long ago that Marcus was some fledgling recruit who was still technically in the reserves. But simply put -- it had not been enough for him to assemble every now and again. He had been taken with gods-given urge to never be idle. In his previous state, he was better off dead. So it was instead that he wandered the lands in search of experience and strength derived from little more than his efforts. He could feel that something had changed. Not just his armor -- which had become bronze colored rather than black through the hands of blacksmiths....but something within. He could swear that he felt himself tingling.

"Perhaps I have been gone, for too long." He said, his voice unwavering. He read over the report, noting the victory which had been accomplished at yet grizzly losses. Yet to the hive, he could only wonder how much those lives were worth. A more grievous blow against them would need to be struck.

Now was s time to put it to the test.

He had been summoned for a mission and as it stood, he was shaping up to be alone. While his face had been concealed by his helmet, one could see his scarred eyes through their slits. He stared into Alexas' own eyes with a grim focus, his eyes only leaving her when she placed a piece of metal scrap onto the table. He picked it up and looked into it

"Chittering and scrap metal. Hmm. It could be insects. I had seen one which appeared have gravity powers. They can mutate in strange ways." He placed the piece back down.

"But I will keep an open mind. For all I know, we could be dealing with spirits. I am no stranger to the ugly." After all, he had encountered many things that appeared to hide within the nooks and crannies of the lands. Dead which walked and otherworldly abominations which clawwed their way into this world from the great beyond to violate his mind. His own comrades bleeding out and dying in his arms

"I'm ready to die. Yet I have no intention of needless sacrifice." He'd expected to meet his end during Rico's Raid. But it seemed he and his party were one of the few spared. It couldn't have been without purpose.

Crossing his arms, Marcus took a moment to look over the map -- inspecting the map many entries points. Already his mind was conjuring ways to approach. It did not take very long for him to decide -- in part due to how scant the information he had was. There was a quiet as he took some time to look over for some minutes. From within the armor, one might hear faint murmurs as he burned certain details into his memory verbally.

"I will move on Illyros and enter the city in the morning -- bar extenuating circumnstance. While I am prepared for shadows, I would prefer to have as much daylight as possible. I will take for myself, three days rations just in case. If I take four, presume me dead. I will keep these entry points in mind but ultimately, my approach will depend on what I see when I get there." The manner in which he approached was described to the fullest extent as he had decided. In the face of unknowns, he'd just have to see about certain things whenever he reached that place.

He would leave the map there, committing it primarily to memory. However, he stopped before exiting. His eyes traced over her weary features once more. And he said one thing before parting.

"Take care of yourself -- sister." ​

And just like that, he left. He couldn't have been inside for more than ten minutes and yet already had set out for the task at hand with the aid of a scout.

 

[Maxxob]

Maverick Six | Marcus

The gates of Vindrel creaked open as Marcus emerged, the weight of his bronze armor gleaming faintly in the torchlight of the garrison’s watchtowers. The scout assigned to accompany him—a wiry, sharp-eyed young man named Darius—waited just beyond the threshold, shifting nervously as if unsure whether to salute or simply fall into step. Clad in simple leathers and armed with a short sword and a bow, Darius looked every inch the practical survivalist, though his darting gaze betrayed unease at the mission ahead.

“Illyros is a cursed place,” Darius muttered as they set out under the silver glow of a rising moon. “Locals won’t even speak its name, let alone go near it. They say the dead there whisper if you get too close.” He hesitated, glancing at Marcus as though measuring his companion’s resolve. “I’m not much for superstition, but… well, you’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

The path to Illyros was a narrow, rocky trail cutting through dense thickets of pyren woods—a forest notorious for its gnarled, ancient trees that clawed at the sky like skeletal hands. The canopy above was thick, allowing only fragmented shards of moonlight to reach the ground, and the air was damp and heavy, carrying the faint but unmistakable scent of decay.

As the pair trekked onward, signs of unnatural activity became increasingly apparent. The first clue was a series of broken tree trunks, splintered at odd angles, as if something massive had barreled through. The second was the carcass of a deer, its body eerily untouched save for two small, circular puncture wounds on its neck—drained entirely of blood.

Darius crouched next to the corpse, his fingers trembling as he examined it. “This… this isn’t natural,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “No animal I know does this. And those punctures—too small for fangs. Looks more like…” He trailed off, shaking his head, unwilling to finish the thought.

The scout rose and continued forward with a visible effort, but the tension in the air was palpable now, growing thicker with every step toward the ruins. By the time the broken spires of Illyros loomed in the distance, silhouetted against the night sky, both men could feel the oppressive weight of something watching them from the shadows.

At the outskirts of the ruins, the remains of civilization lay scattered like the bones of a great beast. Crumbled walls jutted from the ground at sharp angles, overgrown with moss and ivy. Stone streets, once bustling with merchants and townsfolk, were cracked and uneven, littered with debris from the buildings that had collapsed during the Empire’s wrath. A faint wind swept through the area, carrying with it an unnatural chittering sound—soft and distant, yet sharp enough to set Marcus’s instincts on edge.

Darius stopped short at the edge of the ruins, his face pale as he glanced back at Marcus. “This is as far as I go,” he said, his voice unsteady. “I’ll wait here and keep watch. If you’re not back in three days…” He trailed off, then took a deep breath. “Well, you know what they say. Gods go with you.”

As Marcus stepped forward into the ruins, the chittering grew louder, punctuated now and then by a faint metallic clinking sound, as if rusted gears were turning deep within the shadows. The faint glow of dawn was still hours away, and the ruins stretched before him, dark and labyrinthine, promising both answers and danger in equal measure.

It was time to begin. What Marcus chose to do now—whether to take a cautious approach or march boldly into the heart of the ruins—would shape his path forward. The shadows stirred, waiting.

 

[Maverick Six]

Marcus Banecroft
Interaction: Maxxob
Titles: Human (Mundane), Hospitaller, Eastern Empire Military E, Abomination Fighter, Rico's Roughneck, Peacekeeper
Language Key: | "Common" | "[Terran]" |

​

In private, there were two tasks. One was to gather his things and the rest of his supplies. The other was to have one last meal in private for the road. It wasn't long before one would hear the heavy footsteps of Marcus' approach.

Clack

Clack

Clack

Marcus' approach towards the gates would grow louder and louder with closing distance. He noticed someone getting near him and figured that he would be the man who would guide him to the city proper. By now, Marcus was carrying his things on his back with a Sarcina (marching stick) in one hand and his spear in the other.

"Greeting Darius. I am Marcus Banecroft. Call me as you will, so long as I know you refer to me. I am of no rank to be worthy of a salute." He was rather accustomed to being called Banecroft. Though he had accumulated experience, much of it was outside of missions for the Empire. His first showing when he joined the Eastern Empire was, in his eyes, rather poor. Or at least, that was how he viewed it.

"Attack the knights with all you've got. Show me your mettle in battle. Surely defending isn't all you're good at, hmm."

That voice still echoes through his mind to this day. Words lit a fire within him and set him on the path of seeking not just strength of mind but of body as well.

Fish Farm

It was night currently. Thus, it was that he sought to set a torch alight. As they set on the journey, Marcus kept his armor on the entire time. He'd no steed currently -- yet as it stood, it seemed like the armor did naught to weigh him down in the slightest. His strength had been such as to carry the armor as though it were made of cotton. The helmet conceals a great deal of his expression, but one could see his eyes beneath the slits. Scars were written on the flesh beneath it. From what one could tell, his brows furrowed as the man went about the place. Speaking further illuminated Marcus' thoughts.

"Perhaps they do whisper. I have yet seen the dead walk on more than one occasion. Though, I wouldn't put it above someone to pray on these fears." It didn't sound quite so crazy. "Even in defeat, I will seek to return and yet dispel some of this mystery."

Supernatural or not -- the area appeared to be one that was apt to prey upon those fears. His eyes looked about. Rather than with sharp and uncontrolled glances of paranoia...Marcus appeared to be scanning the area. His helmet visibly turned with his movements. He only seemed to move more quickly towards something when a sound was made. He wasn't called an [Abomination Fighter] for nothing.

Soon, they came upon a corpse. His eyes traced over it and the area at large, alert for if the thing would return. However, the more he looked at everything, the more he came to the conclusion that this might not be a solitary entity. Upon looking at the corpse, he would seek to finish.

"...A vampire, it seems." He looked up. "Is it a large one? One that flies? Or one that has a friend?" It was but a guess. One which could be invalidated soon enough.

As Darius' hand trembled, he felt a hand gently grasping his shoulder.

"Let us move on."

Illyros​

---

The omen of the city appeared to be too much for the man. It was fine. That was what he was here for.

"Then this is where we part ways, Darius. Let your fear motivate you, not possess you. Do not die senselessly. Gods be with you as well, brother." Marcus said. Hopefully, the man wouldn't risk his life needlessly.

The man would take to the city's outskirts and find himself a clearing. One which had plenty of open space and allowed him to look into city. With a firm -- downward stab, he would plant his marching stick with bag upon it -- straight into the dirt. A few minutes were spent arranging rocks and woods of his fire starter kit. And then he would set the torch down onto the fire.

"Hm." He had been told to handle this quickly, but there was currently no reason for which he needed to go to the heart of the city right away. There were no hostages nor was he serving as a distraction for another group. Ominous noises flooded through the area, and he felt as though he was being watched.

He would watch them right back. [Cup of Knowledge] His senses and knowledge would become dedicated to deciphering the matter at hand. The crackling of the flame he had started graced his ears, but he sought to listen further. Instead, Marcus listened to the chittering sound before he entered, seeking to decipher it. From where he was -- he would seek to peer into the city, watching it like a hawk. He used his knowledge of the Empire's lands and of its many pantheons. Did this correlate to any monsters that gods may have fought? Or did the lands speak of this?

He'd take his time for now, his spear held firmly in hand as he sat on a single knee at the moment, resting and yet ever ready to spring into action. Marcus had stated his intention of approaching the city in the morning. The light could be seen for some distance. But black smoke made its way up to a black sky.

But making it to the morning uninterrupted was another matter.

"Will that which is within the dark, come out into the light...?"

---

Spoiler: Actions

Actions: 3/3

HP: 6/6 (A Grade Vitality)
Armor: 5/5 (B Grade Heavy)

1. Plant his Sarcina and supplies at a pseudo campsite in an open field.
2. Cup of Knowledge - Area Knowledge [Eastern Empire: Forests and Mountains] E, Religion E, Perception F, Energize E - Marcus dedicates his senses and knowledge to a particular task at hand. - Grade E - 1 Post Cooldown [Target: Chittering Sound and Staring off into the city]
3. Wait for dawn

Cooldowns:
Marcus
F - 0 Post Remaining
E - 0 Post Remaining
D- 0 Post Remaining
C- 0 Post Remaining

Passives:
Resilient Surprise F
Duration Reduction F

 

[Maxxob]

Maverick Six | Marcus

The makeshift campfire crackled softly in the open field, its modest light casting long shadows over the broken cityscape of Illyros. Marcus's Sarcina stood firmly planted in the ground, the supplies hanging from it swaying gently in the cool night breeze. Despite the relative stillness, the oppressive weight of the ruins lingered, pressing against his senses like a coiled predator waiting to strike.

As Marcus activated [Cup of Knowledge], a faint warmth coursed through his body—a familiar sensation that accompanied his efforts to draw deeper meaning from his surroundings. The chittering sound, once faint and erratic, began to resolve itself, its rhythm taking on a strange cadence. Not mere noise, but a pattern. A language, perhaps?

The flicker of his torchlight barely penetrated the deeper shadows of Illyros, but his sharpened perception painted a clearer picture. The ruins were not lifeless; movement stirred at the periphery of his sight, swift and fleeting, vanishing the moment he turned his head. His knowledge of Eastern Empire folklore and pantheons offered little reassurance—there were no direct tales of chittering creatures tied to the gods or ancient heroes. However, his experiences in the wilderness came to mind. Insects were often drawn to decay, but this… this was something far more organized, as if the sound was a summons or an alert.

Marcus's eyes scanned the city entrance. The crumbling archway was covered in vines, but fresh scratches marred the stonework, their jagged edges hinting at claws or tools. The chittering grew louder, echoing faintly from multiple directions within the ruins, interspersed with the metallic clicking he’d heard earlier. The noise intensified in bursts, as if the creatures were communicating among themselves, reacting to his presence.

Then, he spotted it—a faint, unnatural glow emanating from one of the ruined towers deeper within the city. The light flickered like a dying ember, shifting between crimson and a sickly green. Its source was too far to make out clearly, but the surrounding shadows seemed to pulse in rhythm with the chittering. Whatever lay within Illyros, it had noticed him.

Marcus's Grade E Perception caught another detail: the chittering wasn’t confined to the city alone. To his right, near the edges of the forest, the undergrowth rustled, though no breeze had disturbed it. The sound was faint, subtle, but unmistakable. Something—or someone—was circling him, testing his defenses.

The ominous sense of being watched intensified. Whether by beast, spirit, or an unknown force, Marcus knew he was no longer alone.

Choices Before Marcus​

1. Investigate the Glow: The unnatural light in the ruins may hold the answers to the chittering and the source of the threat. Moving toward it now could give him the element of surprise, but it also risks exposing him to greater danger in the darkness.
2. Stand Ground and Lure Them Out: Holding his position until dawn might force the enemy to come to him, allowing him to defend in an advantageous position. However, this risks being surrounded in the open field by whatever stalks the shadows.
3. Scout the Forest Edge: The faint rustling nearby could indicate a solitary scout or something attempting to flank him. Investigating it first may eliminate an immediate threat, though it could be a diversion to draw him away from the city.