The Firstlings

Rance crouched low, listening to the conversation echoing from inside the study. Upon sneaking into the stronghold, he was overjoyed to find that Karla and the General were having a meeting as they were two of his targets. He opened his Gift, looking over his class as he waited, marveling at how far he had come without being discovered.

Name: Rance Harlow

Class: Lurker

Insights: Faceless

Skills: Marked - Silent Blade

Attributes: Quiet Steps - Unseen

Throughout his life, he had always stayed out of people's way, relegating himself to being a background piece. After long, people began to talk about anything as if he weren’t even there. Over time, he developed a habit of eavesdropping, eventually earning him the Lurker Class. He reviewed the skills that had landed him his current job, hoping it wasn’t a death sentence.

[Unseen]

“Become unnoticed”

[Marked]

“Mark an enemy of your choice.”

2/5

Pulling a list from his pocket, he reviewed the names his employer had given him. His smile couldn’t have been any wider if he wanted, as two of the last names on the list were right before him.

Rance lay low, listening, waiting for his opportunity. His only job was to mark them and leave as quickly as possible. The mark couldn’t be seen through normal methods, so he wasn’t too worried about being discovered afterward. It was just placing the damn thing in the first place.

He gritted his teeth, hearing the conversation from within the room slowly end. The General was bidding farewell as Rance crept forward, preparing. Just as the man passed the doorway, he threw the mark, smiling in satisfaction as the Runes appeared.

Rance turned to enter the room but fell back, seeing Captain Bently storming down the hall with purposeful strides, seeming to leak an unknown aura. He was heading toward Karla’s study so Rance crouched low, backing into the corner, hoping he wouldn’t be seen.

His skill allowed him to go unnoticed, but it wasn’t foolproof. The big guy was terrifying, and his eyes were sharp and piercing. Controlling his breathing, he waited as Bently passed through to the study before sighing in relief.

He was both happy and horrified to see the captain, as he was the final name on his list. His employer wanted these three to be traced for some unknown purpose. Rance didn’t want to do the job at first, but how else could he fill his belly?

Or that of his family?

The issue was Bently’s obvious enhancements and whether he could feel the mark. If so, Rance knew he would be a dead man. He wasn’t a warrior and couldn't compete with such a powerhouse.

Trying to calm his rattled nerves, he waited patiently, listening to their conversation. Hearing their talking begin to fade, he readied, hoping he didn’t screw things up. Captain Bently strode through the doorway into the hall as Rance threw the mark.

And Bently froze.

Rance’s eyes went wide as his breath caught in his throat. He stayed perfectly still, silently praying the man didn’t turn his way. His life passed before his eyes when the captain looked left and right as if searching. Bently hesitated then frowned as he continued slowly walking down the hall. Rance breathed heavily trying to control his nerves as he watched the man disappear from his sight.

Peering into the study, he saw Karla looking out the window, so he inched closer. Getting within range, he threw his last mark and turned, heading out of the stronghold as quickly as possible. He passed the guards with ease, even posing as a servant, before finally reaching the last wall of the inner compound.

Thanking the heavens for getting out alive, he wrapped his cloak tightly to keep out the chill from the air. The season was changing, and winter was fast approaching. It was one of the reasons he was so desperate for a leg up. Winters were harsh, and they were barely making it as it was, so he had to find a way to ensure they could survive..

Rance moved swiftly, winding his way through the outer city, marveling at how nice the buildings were. The houses in the inner compound were like mansions housing the wealthy, but they were few. In the outer city, the homes were nice and cozy with small markets spread through the central district.

It was home to the haves.

He had been trapped in the slums his whole life, but he had always dreamed of being a full member of society. Today would be the end of that pitiful life and the dawn of a new one. This was the job to end them all, the one to give him and his family a better future.

To never be hungry again.

The thought of such a life brought a lightness to his steps and a smile to his face. He could finally provide for his family and find them a good home. Moving with purpose, Rance made his way to the edge of the outer city to a run-down Inn, looking ready to buckle under its own disparity.

Reaching the door, he knocked in sequence and counted ten seconds before knocking again. He waited calmly before hearing the lock unlatch as the door creaked open slightly. His chest clenched as two small flames peered back from the darkness within.

“What news do you bring?”

“Good news,” Rance replied, trying his best to keep the tremor from his voice. All he knew was that his employer was some Flame seeker, hellbent on revenge. With whom he didn’t know and didn’t even care to, provided he was paid well enough.

“Were you noticed?” The voice was raspy and on edge. Rance didn’t know if it was fear or seething anger.

“No, they didn’t suspect a thing,” Rance answered, not completely truthful. He wasn’t about to spill the fact that Captain Bently could sense something was off.

“Come in,” The voice beckoned, and the door opened wide.

Rance entered briskly, cursing under his breath at the shithole his employer insisted on meeting at. It was always too dark to see, and he could hear servants moving around, scuttling down the halls. He was led to a small seating area where his employer waved him to sit.

“The mark was applied successfully, I assume?”

“Yes,” Rance explained. “All three individuals were marked. I can trace them anywhere within the city.”

“Good. How long will the mark last?” His employer asked.

Rance could never see his face very well, only knowing he was old and decrepit. The man always wore large flame-tinged robes with a hood covering his face, except for the fiery eyes that pierced him from within its depths. “As long as I am alive, the mark will remain,” he assured, emphasizing his being alive as something critical.

His employer's cackling laughter spread through the sitting area: “Excellent, now we can finally proceed as planned.”

Rance perked up. “When will I get what was promised, sir?” He asked, failing to keep the desire from his voice. His family was in great need, and failure wasn’t an option.

Prom…” His employer began before smiling wide. “Yes, I will give you the new life you were promised.”

“Th—” Rance choked as several arms wrapped around him, seeming to appear from the darkness. He tried to scream, but all that came out was a gurgle as a hand grabbed his throat tightly, the others wrapping his torso and pinning him into place.

“We will need you to remain close, at all times. This will be your reward and be grateful that you are of service to us," his employer sneered, leaning to the side and pulling out a single candle.

A flame sprung to life on his fingertip as he lit the candle, placing it on a small table between them. The candle ignited with a tiny blue flame that seemed to moan and cry to the world. Rance watched, horrified, as black miasma drifted and swirled above the dancing flame. He tried to struggle and free himself, but the arms were too strong.

The dark miasma radiated pure madness, causing him to struggle even more in a futile attempt to break free. It coalesced, forming into a twisted figure without any noticeable features except empty holes for eyes and a maw that spewed foul wails, a cry of madness gifted to the world.

It swept forward, towering over him as it reached forward with terrifying tendrils of darkness. The wails from its open maw tore into his soul as he spasmed, still held firmly. The miasmic tendrils flowed forward and began seeping into his eyes and mouth.

Rance screamed and cried, pleading with any gods that would hear to save him from the terror. Dark miasma flowed into his body, filling his soul to the brim as if to consume it. He felt his consciousness being strangled as foul whispers of madness entered his mind.

Rance's last vestige of willpower dissolved, and his mind became his own prison. He felt his body shutter then rise and turn toward his employer, stiff and lurching. Spittle foamed his mouth as he heard his voice speaking, but he held no control over his actions.

“All… is going as planned, Lord Thadius,” Rance assured, a wicked smile splitting his features. His words were disjointed and choppy as if unaccustomed to speaking. “I won't be able to use his skills, but I can feel the mark.”

“Then all is well. Go, there is more work to be done,” Thadius ordered. Seeing the chaos wraith attaching to a host was always amusing, but he needed to focus. It was a risky attempt as they could only possess the weak, but those were plentiful in the slums.

Rance bowed, leaving the Inn with the same sick smile. His eyes were bloodshot, swiveling crazily as he walked towards the slums, lurching and wobbling. He headed for the tiny shack he and his family called home as drool dripped from his lips in anticipation.

Thadius stowed away the candle and pulled a larger brazier from beneath the table. He placed it in the center as he summoned flames from within. The brazier lit brightly, illuminating the corpses walking along the walls.

He whispered to the flame in a guttural, archaic tone as it began to dance and sputter. An ominous aura spread through the room as a dark orb appeared in the depths of the flame. Foul murmurs spewed from the void, causing his soul to tremble in distress.

‘Fools’ Thadius growled as he tried to tell his brothers of the power he discovered within the chaos. They had mocked him and called him a lunatic, even barring him from their activities. He had been cast out and chastised for his findings.

He intended to show them the error of their ways. If they didn’t believe it was power, then he would show them what true power was. As the portal solidified, Thadius leaned forward, whispering into the void, seeing the darkness within vibrating as if listening.

“We are proceeding as planned.”