The Outpost: Rise Of The Blackblood

The sun had begun to slip toward the western ridge, painting the Outpost in bruised gold and deep purple. Tension thickened the air like smoke from a dying fire.

Talon stood at the center of the courtyard, her hand resting on her sword hilt, eyes fixed on the strangers. The woman in dark armor watched her just as intently, her expression unreadable beneath the dusk light.

Tony shifted on his feet beside her, fingers brushing the handle of his hidden dagger. Garrett stood a few paces back, his hand clenched around the hilt of his belt knife, his knuckles white. Even Janzo had abandoned his basket, staring wide-eyed from behind Talon's shoulder.

"We should decide quickly," Garrett said under his breath. "If that warlock is truly moving, we can't stand here all night debating."

The woman in dark armor seemed to hear him. She stepped forward, her voice cutting clean through the courtyard. "My name is Nyrielle. We are scouts from the Red Veil Company. We've been hunting the Shadow Warlock for months. His power has only grown… and he's gathered a force unlike anything you've seen."

Tony snorted. "And you want us to just… what? March in line with you? Wear your colors? We barely trust each other here."

Nyrielle's cold eyes flicked to him. "If you don't join us, your people will be slaughtered within days. He feeds on fear and despair ; every village he passes leaves behind only ashes."

A hush fell. Somewhere near the south gate, a child began to cry, the thin, ragged sound slicing through the tense stillness.

Talon swallowed hard. "How many are coming?"

Nyrielle's jaw flexed. "Over two hundred fighters. His inner guard are witches and shadow beasts ; creatures not of this world."

The air felt suddenly thinner. Talon closed her eyes briefly, gathering the fragments of her courage.

"We'll hear your plan," she said at last, her voice low. "But we make no promises."

Nyrielle nodded sharply, signaling to two of her scouts. They stepped forward and unrolled a rough map across a barrel. Lines and black marks sprawled like claw scratches across it.

Janzo shuffled closer, eyes darting across the symbols. "These… these lines… they're his routes? He's this close already?"

Nyrielle's lips tightened. "By tomorrow night, his front scouts will reach the lower valleys. By the following day, he'll be at your gates."

Tony let out a shaky breath, staring out at the darkening sky. "Tomorrow… so soon."

A sudden howl echoed beyond the walls — long, hollow, almost human but twisted and broken. The Outpost guards flinched. Garrett's eyes snapped up toward the walls, and Janzo nearly knocked over the barrel.

Nyrielle drew her sword in one smooth motion, the steel catching the last shreds of sunset. "We don't have time for long councils," she said coldly. "Choose tonight: stand with us or stand alone."

Talon's eyes blazed as she looked around at her companions. Janzo's hands trembled, Tony's jaw clenched, Garrett's stare hardened into iron.

A second, closer howl ripped through the air, echoing over the rooftops. Then — a chorus, rising and rolling like a wave of dark laughter.

Talon took a sharp step forward, drawing her sword fully, the metal gleaming like a falling star.

"Everyone inside," she ordered, her voice cutting through panic. "Arm yourselves. Prepare the wounded. Janzo get to your herbs, you'll need them. Tony, Garrett ; with me."

She turned to Nyrielle, her sword tip hovering inches from the ground. "We haven't given you an answer yet. But we'll stand tonight, no matter what comes."

Nyrielle's eyes softened ; just for a breath. Then she raised her blade high, rallying her scouts.

From the walls came the sounds of guards shouting, arrows rattling in quivers, boots thundering up the stairs.

A black shape moved at the edge of the torchlight — huge, crawling, unnatural.

Talon sucked in a breath, her sword rising.

"Steady!" Garrett roared behind her.

The darkness beyond the walls writhed and surged forward like a living nightmare.

And as the first twisted shapes burst from the gloom, the Outpost exploded into a roar of steel, fire, and war cries.

Here Comes The Shadow Walker

In the swirl of chaos, Talon locked eyes with a figure standing beyond the darkness — a tall, robed silhouette, its pale hands raised as if weaving the night itself. The Shadow Warlock had arrived. And he was watching her.