Subterra: Dark Relm

Part 6 The Dark Conclave: Shadows over Elowen

(The Oakridge villagers, their faces painted with relief and joy, swarm Master Orin and his reinforcements as they enter the village, their cheers echoing through the air. The dark cloud of war lifts, replaced by a sense of victory and hope. King Aric of the Caravyn kingdom rides alongside Orin, his soldiers fanning out to guard the village’s perimeters. Inside the dimly lit meeting room, tension hangs like a thick fog as Garrick, King Aric, Master Orin, Zev, Seraphina, Galen, and Damon gather, with the defeated Elowen commander, Varian, bound but defiant in their midst.)

Seraphina: (her voice tight, masking the worry in her eyes): I was worried about you. And you invited King Aric? I thought I'd be the one asking for his help.

Orin: (a knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips): I simply made your task easier. Thalric and Aric are old friends—bonds forged in the fires of battle. Aric wouldn't refuse our request, not now, not ever.

Garrick: (eyeing Orin’s weary stance, a hint of concern creasing his brow): It's been too long, Orin. You look... worn, weaker than I remember.

Orin: (chuckling softly, but the laughter doesn’t reach his tired eyes): Time has not been kind, Garrick. My battles in Subterra left scars that run deeper than you see.

Galen: (with a playful scoff, masking his disappointment): You stole all the fun, old man. Barely got warmed up with that scuffle. I was hoping for more.

Orin: (his tone turning grave, eyes narrowing as if seeing a storm on the horizon): The true battle lies ahead, Galen. Patience... you'll need all your strength soon enough.

Zev: (breaking the uneasy silence, his voice edged with urgency): We have a prisoner, and time is not our ally. This bastard needs to talk.

Damon: (a dark grin spreading across his face, relishing the thought): I’ll make him sing every secret he holds. My methods have a way of loosening tongues.

Orin: (raising a hand, his voice calm but commanding): Enough, Damon. He's in no shape to endure your... kindness. His eyes betray him—he's ready to talk.

Zev :(stepping closer, his gaze piercing): Start with your name. Now.

Commander Varian: (his voice faltering, as if the weight of his defeat crushes him): I... I am Commander Varian.

Garrick : (leaning in, eyes hard as steel): What drives your king? What is his true intention?

Varian:  (fear flashing in his eyes, his voice a whisper of dread): He seeks to conquer Subterra... to rule as Malakar once did.

Seraphina:  (her voice rising, disbelief laced with anger): He’s barely ascended the throne after his father’s death! What makes him so bold? So reckless?

Varian: (swallowing hard, dread tightening his throat): He’s not acting alone. There’s someone... someone guiding him, fuelling his ambition.

Seraphina:  (eyes narrowing, suspicion confirmed): I knew it. He lacks the spine to make such bold moves on his own. Who is pulling the strings?

Varian: (his voice trembling, the name like a curse on his lips): A man came to our palace months ago... said he was summoned by our late king to forge Elowen’s destiny. He called himself the great Vorath.