• Ridoria: Prologue

    The fog nearly blinded the group of four ascending the treacherous mountain path. Connected by a single rope they were each holding in their hands, the majority of the group was trembling at the thought of a very likely scenario that involved them plunging thousands of feet to their deaths. The one in the front, however, did not tremble, did not fear, and bore the air of a determined madman. He gripped the rope unflinchingly, concentrating on nothing but the path ahead. When he sensed the rope grow too taut from a group member falling behind, he would wrench the rope forward with all his might, sometimes hearing a slight scream in response. He was long past caring; he only had one goal in mind, which he had come too far to lose now.
    The trail was on the edge of a cliff, and sloped continually upward toward the top of the mountain, to a cave which had existed only in rumors. These were rumors that Jielson laughed at, of course, for he had been shown the cave’s location no more than a tenday before by what he believed was a divine vision. The others of the group, however, felt no divine presence here, only the feeling that something unhallowed was watching their every move. This was not what frightened them, however, as they were Mel’Kurei, demonic magic wielders who were all too familiar with demons and shadows of the Lower Realms. This one felt different, though, its power was unrivaled by anything they’d ever felt, and the effect that it was having on their leader was a bad omen in itself.
    With gradual but assured progress up the mountain, the path began to narrow to the point where the group was shuffling with angled feet along the face of the mountain. Jielson was not slowed in the least, and even began tugging on the rope,
    “Tiera, Raritos, Belson, move!” His voice was edged in spiteful, bitter rage and he was shuffling faster along the edge, seemingly blind to the peril he was putting himself and the group in. The others desperately tried to keep up with him, but to no avail. Tiera cried out in surprise as the tip of her boot broke a piece of rock from the edge and went through the edge, costing her the only stable piece of rock to rest her foot. Tiera fell through leg-first, her arms flailing about as she let go of the rope. She let out a scream, thinking her doom was upon her only in the first second of her fall, but suddenly another hand was gripping hers, pulling her up back to the edge. It was Raritos, and only his quick thinking had saved Tiera from a plummet to her demise. Belson gripped Raritos’ arm, helping him hold her as they shuffled across the ledge, no longer holding the rope. Jelson was nowhere to be seen as they walked onto a large platform beholding the cave, finally pulling Tiera onto stable ground.
    “You know, Tiera,” Raritos grinned, “You’ve faced creatures worse than death itself, is a fall that’s obscured by fog really so intimidating?”