The warlord

When Amaril fell unconscious to the ground, Farhad stared at Harold's clenched fist in astonishment.

Listening to Harold's steady, controlled breathing, Farhad realized one thing: this man could strike him down at any moment. Bloodied and battered by Amaril's earlier onslaught, Farhad turned his gaze slowly toward the exit. With a strained smile, he spoke in a pleading tone.

"Good sir, what say you we let bygones be bygones? I have endured my share of pain this day. Surely, a little mercy would not go amiss. Spare me, and I shall trouble you no more."

Harold said nothing. Farhad took his silence for agreement, oblivious to the truth: not all silence signifies consent.

As Farhad bent to collect his scattered belongings, a sudden fist slammed into him, sending him crashing against the wall.

"You... traitor... we had an accord..." Farhad growled, his voice low and menacing. But he did not finish his sentence.

---

When the cold hues of the Vornaut sky enveloped the land, Amaril and Farhad awoke, their hands bound, in a dimly lit room on the second floor of an unfamiliar building. It took a moment for the events that had unfolded to come rushing back to them. Their last clear memory was the brothel, left in utter disarray by their chaos.

Amaril bit her lip, her golden hair disheveled, her eyes aflame with fury. "Farhad! You spineless, wretched bastard! May your name be cursed to the ends of time! How dare you destroy my sanctum, my precious refuge, with such vile recklessness!"

Farhad, his face bruised and swollen, turned to her with a grimace. "Hold your tongue, you shrieking harpy! Or have you forgotten how you set about razing your so-called 'sanctum' for the sake of a mere two silver coins?"

Amaril's sharp breath hissed through her teeth as the memory hit her. Her fury only deepened, and she snarled like a cornered wolf. "And whose idiocy led us to this wretched predicament, hmm? Yours, Farhad! Yours, and your endless blundering!"

Farhad sighed, his voice heavy with resignation. "Aye, it is mine. The folly of a fool who trusted you would have a shred of reason left in that manic little head of yours."

Amaril's scream of frustration echoed through the room as she lunged toward him, only to be stopped by the ropes binding her. Before she could utter another insult, a bucket of icy water splashed over her face.

"Enough!" Harold's voice cut through the tension like a blade. Standing by the doorway, his eyes were still bleary from his nap. "The pair of you sound like squabbling children. Why, oh why, am I cursed to deal with two fools who seem to speak as if they're from five centuries past?"

Farhad, desperate to deflect Harold's ire, tried to adopt a more deferential tone. "Noble champion, surely you see the nature of our discord. This madwoman, this long-eared vixen, is the source of all my woes. I beseech you not to lump me with her. These ropes - cruel as they are - dig into my tender spirit!"

Amaril's emerald eyes narrowed dangerously. "Long-eared vixen? Tender spirit? You accursed vagabond! You've no right to address me in such a way, let alone insult me while bound as you are, you wretched minstrel!"

Harold sighed deeply, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Alright, enough of this nonsense. Clearly, the two of you are incapable of understanding the gravity of your situation. No matter. We've the whole night ahead to... enlighten you."

As he spoke, his smile twisted into something dark and cruel, his eyes gleaming with sinister delight.

Farhad and Amaril exchanged uneasy glances, the realization dawning that they had fallen into the hands

of someone far more dangerous than either of them had anticipated.

---

**Whispering Woods, Council Hall**

The air in the chamber grew heavy as the elven lord entered. His imposing figure cast a long shadow, silencing the murmurs of the council. When he showed no objection to Lady Lúthien's plan, the gathered elders also held their tongues, though many had hoped he would take their side.

The elven lord turned his gaze to the forest stretching beyond the council chamber. "The Whispering Woods are the last sanctuary of our people," he began, his voice firm but laden with sorrow. "The villages under the protection of the high elves must not fall to the darkness that encroaches upon us."

"For some time now, I've sensed an ominous presence in the depths of the forest. But its strength has grown. Our patrols have been annihilated. Though no bodies remain to mourn, I cannot risk sending more."

He paused, his gaze distant. "And yet, I cannot withdraw forces from other regions. I know not the enemy's true purpose, but I can fortify the affected areas and ensure no further incursions."

The council members exchanged worried glances as he continued. "This is why I have sent reserve units to hold the line. They will buy us time if the worst comes to pass."

His voice grew softer, tinged with regret. "Our kind is fewer than humans. Long life may be a gift from the heavens, but it comes at the cost of fertility. We cannot squander what little remains of our kin. Yes, enlisting the aid of a human defies the ideals of our ancestors. But it may grant more of our people the chance to witness another sunrise."

A faint smile crossed his lips as he finished, but his words were punctuated by a thunderous explosion that shook the hall.

"What was that?"

"From the north?!"

"The ruins of Asryndor? What has that human done now?"

Talion, an elder with sharp, storm-gray eyes, rose to his feet. "I warned you - humans cannot be trusted! I will go and see for myself!"

As he strode out of the chamber, an ominous aura engulfed him, thick with malice.

"My gods," Talion whispered under his breath. "A Berserker."

---

Meanwhile, in the depths of the forest, Harold's golden aura began to darken with streaks of crimson, a sign of his descent into madness. Yet the obsidian amulet at his neck pulsed with violet light, releasing a calming fragrance that staved off the madness.

Tears welled in Harold's shadowed eyes, one slipping down his cheek. "Even now, I cannot control this curse without your help."

His rage flared once more as he tightened his grip on his blade. "You will pay for this!"

With a mighty slash, his aura surged forward in a wave of golden fire, cutting through the swarm of spiders before him. The forest trembled as Harold raised his hand to the heavens, summoning storm clouds that churned with energy.

"You dared awaken my wrath. Now, face its full fury!"

Lightning cracked across the sky, striking down in a deafening crescendo as Harold's voice roared over the chaos:

"Perish!"