Aftermath of The Siege on the Den

Background:
The Battle for the Lions’ Den, a battle that had many wins, as much as losses. The Lion’s enemies “The Cult of Withermoore”, they sieged the Den with plague and overwhelming amounts of Undead in the area. As the Lions Valiantly defended their home, Aimbelma Hightower retreated to the keep so he could retrieve his armor and the Ceylin’s blade. The Lions about killed off most of the Undead, but their Death Knight Commander cackled as he summoned bloated Ghouls that ran into and around the Keep. These bloated ghouls, mutated and ended up exploding destroying the entire left half of the Stronghold, sadly on the left was the Grand Master’s quarters and Aimbelma was crushed underneath the rubble. Or was he?

After the battle:
A voice echoed through his mind, “Retreat Lions! There are too many, hurry make haste to the ruins of the Cathedral!”. Aimbelma opened his eye, and saw stone and fire all around him, he tried to move but this left arm was crushed underneath what was the archway into his chamber. He tried his best to use his free arm to move the archway, after what seemed like eons he was able to move it. With a rather loud groan he managed to crawl out from the ruins. Once he made his way out the sight shocked him, dead bodies everywhere, some were Lion defenders, and most were foul Undead soldiers. He looked around for something, something to let him know the Lions’ made it out, and that another thing didn’t die with him, but with the wind there was a whisper, “Aimmbelllmaa..” a voice called out. Aimbelma looked around his throat was dry and scratchy the taste of blood ran down from his mouth and into his stomach, after a bit of swallowing blood and some air, he spoke, “Wh-..Who are you? Show yourself, please!” he called out into the smoky distance. Once again the wind howled, “Aiimbellmmaa!” the voice seemed to be closer, and angry. He swallowed once more, “Who’s there?!” he screamed out into what seemed like a void. He began to stumble forward, his broken boot kicked something and it sliced his exposed toes and made a metallic sound as it scraped across the ground. Aimbelma made a whince at his toes being sliced, and looked down it was Ceylin’s sword. He let out a relieved sigh, he whinced as he bent down to pick up the sword, after a slight moment he found the way out of the gates. In front of the broken gates was a note, it looked very recent, Aimbelma took a look at it.

Dear Lady Highcrown, Sad sight isn’t it? The Lions have been moved to the Port, can’t say which one they might be watching or Dreading this but you’re smart enough to know we’re smart enough to pick a safe location, ya’? Make haste, you’ve missed a lot.” -Signed ‘The Raven’. After Aimbelma read this he smiled for the Lions didn’t die with him, his communicator garbled speech and was barely clear. “Junipe-..sh-.. -ew.. Grand..Ster..”

Aimbelma nodded for his will was to be carried out, he knew he couldn’t return to the Order after this mess, he told himself, “They..They won’t forgive me, there is no use to go back.” he limped from the ruins, leaving his communicator and tattered tabard behind. Aimbelma limped away into the woods surrounding New Acrea’s borders, his leg finally gave out and he collapsed against a tree. He rolled resting his back on the tree’s trunk, his sword clanked onto the ground. He reached into his almost destroyed gauntlet and pulled out a small slightly burnt locket. He opened it with his teeth, and looked inside of the memories it held.. On the right side there was a photograph that was taken from when he was a Knight within The Citrine Eagle, the photo was a group of friends. Sir Shindo, Lona, his wife Vanessa, and him. They all were laughing in it, he smiled at the memory and looked to the left this side contained a photograph of the Lions, they all posed for this but it was ruined when in the attempt to make everyone smile, Aimbelma made them laugh too hard and the photograph was them laughing until they were red. Aimbelma closed his eyes as he felt the life draining from his wounds, his last words were said softly and no one would be around to hear them..”Vanessa..Looks like I won’t be home in time for dinner, Rio..I’m sorry…” his words lingered in the air, then he slipped into everlasting darkness.

(To be continued)