BALLAD OF THE ORC PALADIN

Into Draigenholt

Grushak dropped a handful of coins onto the bar with a dull clink. The barkeep, a grizzled orc with a weathered face, eyed the pile with a mix of suspicion and greed. He scooped up the coins, glancing around the dingy tavern before leaning in closer.

"You've bought yourself a few whispers," he growled, wiping his hands on his filthy apron. "But in this place, whispers are all you're gonna get."

Kaito looked around the tavern, his nerves on edge. The place was filled with rough-looking characters: mercenaries, warband deserters, and a few villagers who kept their heads down. The air was thick with tension, like a coiled spring ready to snap. Draigenholt wasn't just a place where people passed through. It was a staging ground for the warlords and the darker forces that had taken root in Valkra.

Grushak leaned on the bar, his tone dangerous but calm. "We're looking for information on the warlords. Rumours say they're after something more than just land."

The barkeep paused, his eyes flicking to the shadows in the corners of the room. He lowered his voice. "You're right to be cautious. The warlords ain't just rallying the orc clans for raids anymore. They're searching for something buried deep in these lands. The old ruins out in the wastes. The kind of power that could change everything."

Kaito's stomach twisted. The same ruins they were heading toward. The temple where he sought the gods' blessing. The warlords were after it too, but for far darker reasons.

"They say the warlords have made deals," the barkeep continued, "with sorcerers from the east. Dark magic. The kind that hasn't been seen in generations. They're digging for an ancient artefact—something older than the kingdoms, older than this land."

The air in the room seemed to grow colder. Kaito exchanged a glance with Sylvara, who had gone rigid, her hand gripping her bow tighter. Seris stood to the side, her golden eyes sharp as she listened. Even Borin, usually quick to dismiss rumours, looked grim.

"What kind of artefact?" Kaito asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The barkeep's eyes flicked to him, narrowing slightly. "Nobody knows exactly what it is. Some say it's a weapon, others say it's a source of power. But everyone agrees on one thing—if the warlords get it, no kingdom will be able to stop them."

The group stood in tense silence, the weight of the information settling over them. This was bigger than any of them had realised. The warlords weren't just gathering forces—they were planning to unleash something ancient, something that could reshape the world.

"And how close are they to finding it?" Grushak pressed.

The barkeep shrugged. "Close enough. They've been digging near the old temple for weeks. The place is crawling with warbands and dark sorcerers. If you're planning on heading that way, you'd best be prepared. The temple might be your destination, but you won't be the only ones trying to get inside."

Kaito's heart pounded. The temple wasn't just his hope for becoming a paladin—it was at the centre of a larger conflict. The gods' blessing, the dark power, the artefact the warlords were seeking—it was all connected.

The barkeep straightened, glancing toward the door. "That's all I know. But be careful who you talk to here. Draigenholt's not a place for outsiders, and there are plenty of ears listening for warlord gold."

After leaving the tavern, the group reconvened in a small, shadowed alleyway near the edge of town. The atmosphere in Draigenholt was oppressive, the fog from earlier still clinging to the air like a shroud. Kaito could feel eyes on them, even though the streets seemed empty.

Grushak's expression was hard as he spoke. "We're running out of time. If the warlords are this close to finding the artefact, we need to move now. We can't wait for them to open that temple."