1

VagrantStory ..................................................................................................................................................................... 3
Prologue ........................................................................................................................................................................ 3
§1 Loosing the Hunting Dogs into an Unknown World................................................................................................. 5
§2 The Sealed Memories of a Warrior .......................................................................................................................... 7
§3 Steel Fangs, Fragile Soul ........................................................................................................................................... 9
§4 Souls that Cannot Die-- Hell in the Waking World ................................................................................................ 11
§5 A Quickening Within the Dark's Ancient Capitol.................................................................................................... 13
§6 To a Realm Beyond the World of Human Knowledge ........................................................................................... 15
Epilogue: Shouldering the World-- A Vagrant’s Story Begins ..................................................................................... 17
PERSONAGENS ........................................................................................................................................................ 19
ASHLEY .................................................................................................................................................................... 19
SYDNEY .................................................................................................................................................................... 20
GUILDSTERN ............................................................................................................................................................ 21
CALLO MERLOSE...................................................................................................................................................... 22
ROSECRANTZ ........................................................................................................................................................... 22
JOHN HARDIN.......................................................................................................................................................... 23
JOSHUA ................................................................................................................................................................... 23
DUKE BARDORBA .................................................................................................................................................... 24
Tia Riot .................................................................................................................................................................... 24
Marco Riot............................................................................................................................................................... 24
Commander Duane ................................................................................................................................................. 24
Commander Grissom .............................................................................................................................................. 24
Commander Samantha ........................................................................................................................................... 25
Commander Neesa.................................................................................................................................................. 25
Commander Tieger ................................................................................................................................................. 25

2
 VagrantStory
Prologue
Ashley Riot -- Just Another Swordsman
Riskbreaker. Charged with protecting country and
citizens, the VKP (Valendian Knights of the Peace) agents
skilled enough to earn that name are few. Together, they
form the Dangerous Criminal Task Force, apprehending or
sometimes just secretly "dealing with" major felons.
Consequently, Riskbreakers must have two things; well
above normal fighting prowess and the ability to make
lightening quick judgment calls on when to use their given
right to murder. Of course, those skills are only for use in
cases of national interest.
In other words, a Riskbreaker is not his own man.
Were the Parliament, Valendia’s ruling body, and all
the organizations it commands assembled together into one
gargantuan living organism, the Riskbreakers would be that
huge monster’s fangs. An individual "fang" cannot act of its
own will. It must act as the "brain" dictates, biting into the
game at which it is aimed, ripping and chewing the flesh so
that all parts of the creature may gain nourishment. In that
great beast that is national authority the Riskbreakers are
the piece aimed at its enemies, the "fangs" disposing of them
with a few quick snaps.
Such a system leaves no room for individuality. A
Riskbreaker’s thoughts must center around his loyalty to
Parliament, all his actions on preserving Parliament’s
authority. He follows orders in blind faith, unknowing of all
the reasons behind them. It is not for a simple "fang" to
delineate between "right" and "wrong".
Yet no matter how willing a man is to kill off his "self",
being human, it is incredibly difficult for him purely to act as
a "fang". True "fangs" must squash their humanity into near
non-existence, yet they must also raise their will to survive
to its uppermost limits. If a man simply focuses on honing
the physical skills necessary, shoving the awareness of his
humanity off to the side, his spirit will dwindle and dwindle
until it dies altogether. Then, no matter how incredible his
fighting abilities, when faced with true felons, each of whom
harbor a spark of chaos in their soul, that man will never
come back alive.
The capability to renounce both individuality and
humanity, yet retain spirit --- only those who can fulfill that
conflicting, contradictory requirement have what it takes to
survive the life of a Riskbreaker. That is what Parliament
expects. Given simpler words, they expect the impossible.
In all the years since the official founding of the
Dangerous Criminal Task Force, it has never escaped the
chronic problem of a low average survival rate. Only one
agent breaks that curve, successfully and safely completing
mission after mission---
3
Ashley Riot.
About all anyone really knows about him is that he
was once a member of the Kingsguard, voluntarily forsaking
that post and falling into the lightless world of the
Riskbreakers. To the VKP, he is the perfect "fang". Even the
most difficult missions--- the majority of which involve acting
as a "protector of the law", quietly silencing anti-
government factions--- he brings to a flawless close with an
iron will, coming back safely time and time again.
Since being assigned there, he has "handled" over
100 cases. While the vast majority of other Riskbreakers
have either lost their lives or lost their nerve at the incessant
slaughter, consequently being stricken from all records,
Ashley continues to complete missions with unshakable
indifference, raising neither complaint nor question.
An impossible, incomparable warrior. A perfectly
loyal servant. The impartial law made into living flesh. Ashley
Riot is truly the "unbreakable fang", the "unscratchable
blade". All humanity forfeited, all ties of companionship
severed it is easy to believe that he has ground even his heart
into a polished sword.
Ashley Riot, the most reliable of all the VKP’s
Riskbreakers is now the prime suspect in the murder of Duke
Bardorba. Two months have already passed since the search
for him commenced, yet not a single trace of his
whereabouts has been uncovered. Within the VKP, it is
widely believed, though unofficially so, that learning the
truth behind the whole mystery is impossible.
One week prior to the murder, a single event creates
a tie between Ashley Riot and Duke Bardorba. The
Mullenkamp Cult, under the orders of their young leader,
one Sydney Losstarot, assaulted and infiltrated the Duke’s
Manor, and it was Ashley who was ordered to remedy the
situation.
However, the number of suspicious points is far
larger. Firstly, why was Ashley, an elite member of the
Dangerous Criminal Task Force, given that assignment
instead of the Templars, a group specifically created to deal
with cults? Secondly, it has come to light that the
intervention by the Crimson Blades was ordered by the
Cardinal without the consent of Parliament. Thirdly, an
unknown beast was sighted within the manor proper during
the incident. It’s reported that blows were exchanged, but
those who could further testify to that fact either died during
the incident itself or shortly afterwards under mysterious
circumstances. Word or whereabouts of any other survivors
is as of yet unknown.
 In addition, Ashley’s specific assignment was the
pursuit and capture of Sydney Losstarot, not the Duke. Once
he departed for the Manor he vanished completely, only to
resurface once, one week later, as the final visitor received
by the recuperating Duke at his Secondary Residence. He had
no communication with Headquarters at all, completely
unlike any of his previous missions. Hence, we have no
information as to what occurred during that one week
period.

Only one subject will be avoided, the place to which

Ashley pursued Sydney; Lea Monde, the ancient and dark
city 25 years destroyed by the Great Quake. What happened
to him there, and why the greatest Riskbreaker ever became
Valendia’s most wanted violent criminal--- we have no
means even to suppose an answer.

From a mundane swordsman to a vagrant who bears

the world on his shoulders. Let’s step behind the eyes of
Ashley Riot and discover what really happened…………

4
§1 Loosing the Hunting Dogs into an Unknown
World
Sydney Losstarot--- leader of the Müllenkamp Cult
and manipulative terrorist acting under the supervision of
political powerhouse Duke Bardorba. The moment Ashley
received the order to capture that enigmatic man, a curious
premonition began to form in his mind.
Ostensibly, Ashley was chosen for that mission
because the Cult was recently discovered to be more than
simply an extremist religious cult. Accused of being an anti-
government organization that had gone as far as to attempt
regicide, Müllenkamp was deemed dangerous enough to
warrant a Riskbreaker. Or so the official story says. In reality,
Ashley was deployed on the orders of a small group of
politicians plotting to take advantage of the recently-
snapped secret bond between Sydney and the Duke. Though
officially long since retired from politics because of poor
health, the Duke retained a firm hold on the hidden goings-
on of Parliament as well as his power as a manipulator of the
Dark. Ashley was chosen by those plotters to be certain of
completely severing the squabbling Duke and cult leader
from any power.
Ashley himself had no interest in passing judgement
on the political maneuvering. He had long ago left all
decisions on "right" and "just" in the hands of the VKP, not
once thinking on the whys or wherefores of his orders. Once
a mission begins, his soul is completely sealed off. His brain
is used only to assimilate exterior information and transmit
it to his body. A soulless doll acting purely in the best way to
successfully complete the mission--- that's Ashley's "style".
Thus, his spirit is always wrapped in silent darkness.
No matter the situation or circumstances, to Ashley it's as if
he's watching a story that's unfolding page by page. His
physical body stands on the stage, disconnected from his
will, following the script of the story to its predetermined
end. His soul sits, separate, in a quiet, dark spectator's booth,
watching his body dance across the stage. Everything
external is turned away. Nothing ever reaches as far as the
soul within.
The darkness wraps thickly around his soul,
coccooning it in a false sense of peace, armoring it from
Reality. But on the night he broke into the occupied
Bardorba Mansion, from the second he and Sydney met, that
armor began to crack. No, perhaps it is better said that the
framework of Reality itself began to crack, things dismissed
as mere fantasy by common sense actually happening.
For example, Sydney is immortal.
5
Completely disregarding the demand for his
surrender, the young prophet grabbed for his sword, forcing
a reluctant Ashley to fire his crossbow. The arrow struck
dead on with enough power to punch a hole in armor plate,
let alone a bare, scrawny chest. It drove clear through
Sydney, cleanly piercing his heart. At least, that's what
Ashley thought.
Barely phased by the crossbow bolt sticking out of
him, Sydney stood, and as an incredulous Ashley watched,
pulled the bothersome thing out. He then proceded to call
forth something even more difficult to swallow than an
immortal, summoning a creature straight out of the world of
myth and legend-- a wyvern. The grotesque beast dropped
in from above on thick, leathery wings, it's long neck snaking
this way and that. The sheer size of the creature more than
dwarfed Ashley. However, fresh from feasting on the
Crimson Blades outside, the red painting its teeth and the
reek of blood on its breath wre anything but illusional.
The wyvern's flaming breath flickering about him,
Ashley charged forward and rammed his sword into the
beast's breast. The sturdy sword cleaved through scale and
hard muscle, permanently halting the huge heart
underneath. The strange feeling of cutting stronger-than-
human flesh still echoing up his arm, Ashley had no time to
feel fear before the wyvern died.
Unfortunately, that small gap was still enough for
Sydney to get away. He gathered those of his followers still
alive and made a clean escape from the chaotic wreck of the
Manor.
Ashley then also withdrew. But having seen unkillable
prophets and killable wyverns-- his machine-like coolness
and soulless calm had been cracked to their very
foundations.
The situation had obviously escalated beyond the
scope of a single agent. The Riskbreaker part of Ashley
wanted to return to VKP Headquarters immediately and
report what little information had been gleaned, and then
wait for further orders. The occupation of the Duke's Manor
dealt with, the necessity of Sydney's capture became
questionable. Besides, would conventional methods of
search and capture even work on Sydney, with his strange
powers?
But the rest of Ashley was ensnared by the reality-
warping aura of magic that surrounds Sydney like a cloak. His
decision to pursue the Müllenkamp Cult to Lea Monde was
inevitable.
He went like a hound loosed on a fox. This scent he
would follow with pit-bull tenacity, until his teeth sink into
his prey's neck. And in this particular case, personal interest
has sharpened his sense of smell to blood-hound keenness.
 Yet, just who, or what, it was he chased, Ashley had
no idea; a mystery that was pushing him, the VKP's greatest
Riskbreaker, to bring out his best. The goal of this hunt, then,
was not the capture or kill, but discovery. Ashley wanted to
know the true face of the man who had cracked the armor
around his soul, and even more disturbingly, actually
touched it.

The hunting ground is Müllenkamp's base of

operations, the ancient city where the legend of a priestess
still lives-- Lea Monde.

Ashley sets out as the morning sun rises, cutting away

the last shadows from the nightmare in the Duke's Manor.
What he doesn't notice is the halo of darkness still lurking
about him that those bright rays don't sweep away. That
darkness is a "present" left behind by Sydney. What lies
hidden in its depths, a simple hunting dog doesn't know. He
simply presses on.

What will Ashley find in Lea Monde? Perhaps this

"Dark" that's manipulated by immortals. Or perhaps he'll
find a shadow of himself...

Exactly according to premonition, the Wheels of Fate

have begun to turn.

6
§2 The Sealed Memories of a Warrior
Once, Lea Monde boasted the some of the best
wineries and finest wines in all of Valendia. Likely, they were
once stored, a rack for each type, in that hall. The cellar is
man-made and exceptionally large, the light from the
torches left behind by the Cult followers not enough to chase
the shadows from all the corners.
There, with darkness flickering in his peripheral
vision, Ashley felt an involuntary shudder.
It was one not caused by Lea Monde, nor its denizens.
Indeed, the magical creatures that run rampant in the
blacker spaces of the ancient city, the walking corpses and
ghouls, the uncountable bodiless spirits and all the other
monsters; none of them inspired any terror in Ashley. Even
he himself was mystified at his lack of fear at things that
would panic a normal man.
No, what scared Ashley to the core was the truth
about himself, of which he was just starting to learn.
Was it truly simple darkness hovering about the
edges of his vision? Or was it truly not "darkness" at all but
something cloaked in "Darkness", following him just outside
of his awareness? Since entering the cursed capitol, Ashley
had begun facing off with the unfamiliar foes "doubt" and
"paranoia".
Then Sydney Losstarot began his "game," taking Callo
Merlose hostage and luring Ashley ever further into the
depths of Lea Monde. With every step closer to the city's
heart he took, the inner unease about himself grew. It felt as
if another Ashley Riot, one different and unknown, was
coming forward from the ruins around him.
That thought struck fear into Ashley like nothing else
could. If that "other" wasn't illusionary, that would
make him, the Ashley Riot he had always thought himself to
be, the illusion. All he believed the world to be would turn
false.
------So just who is Ashley Riot?
Still plagued by doubts that were admittedly illogical,
a sudden, high pitched squeal stopped him. A shriek fit to
send shivers down a man's spine trembled through the air of
the huge room in which Ashley found himself-- a steel blade
being drawn across a stone floor. Soon the deep, hollow
thud of metal armor joined it, creating a chilling cacophony
that filled the air.
Ashley had already seen the fallen Crimson Blades
raised as zombies by the Dark. As this new monstrosity
began to lurch out of hiding and he felt the extent of its
hatred for all living things, he strangely felt his cool
composure returning.
7
There was going to be a fight. That, he could immerse
himself into. His self as a Riskbreaker and Agent of the
Valendian Parliament could come to the fore, would become
more real. It didn't matter if his opponent be man or
monster, Ashley could shove all unnecessary thoughts and
worries to the back of his mind and bury himself in the fight.
For at least a little while, he could be simply a weapon,
nothing more. As the death-match with the whatever-it-was
across the hall ticked closer, an odd sense of peace
descended on him.
It wasn't long before the "whatever-it-was" stood
revealed. Another squelching, half-rotted zombie it was not.
Flickering torch-light glimmered off a suit of armor. Once, it
must have been custom-designed for a knight of huge
stature, each metal plate painstakingly pounded out and
embossed, then assembled into a stunning whole. Well,
whole except for a helmet.
But a helmet wasn't needed. The creature had no
head on which to put it. Nor did the shoulder plates rest on
living shoulders. In fact, there was no flesh at all within the
thing. Peer through its joints and all you would find is an
unmistakably empty cavity.
The Dark that permeates every inch of Lea Monde
had seeped into old armors long ago drenched in the blood
of foes, possessing them, giving the dead metal a semblance
of life. So was born the monster "Dullaham." The living
muscle that once moved its limbs is long since rotted away.
No bones support its frame. Instead, the Dark attached
marionette's strings to the armor itself, manipulating its
impromptu puppet like a master.
The "living" armor slowly turned to face Ashley.
Gathering power in the tip of the huge blade in its hand,
Dullaham struck the floor, leaving behind a deep gash in the
stone. Almost as if it'd been waiting for Ashley, a deep red
light began shining from within the cursed metal, more
power pouring into it from the Dark.
What it did next, no one would have thought possible.
Moving several times faster than any living creature of the
same size, it closed to within two steps of Ashley. A bare
fraction of a second later, its sword, easily longer than a man
is tall, swung down like a lightening bolt.
Ashley did manage to block the strike and his shield
did not crack, but the arm holding it felt on the verge of doing
so. Numbness shot down his arm, every muscle fiber
quivering with the stress of the blow.
Yet such a massive, sweeping attack left Dullaham
wide open, an opportunity Ashley promptly pounced upon.
While the greatsword still swung with the momentum of the
slash, Ashley stepped into the space created, quickly closing
the last two steps. Aiming for the joint in the armor's right
arm, he struck. Steel met steel in a clash that sent sparks
glittering into the dim light.
 Surprisingly, Ashley's attack didn't stop there.
Throwing all his strength into it, he hit the same place again.
Dullaham staggered, unable to bring its sword back into
position to counterattack. Five, six, seven times Ashley's
sword connected with cursed steel, the metal visibly
deteriorating each time, becoming much weaker.

Cushioned in the white haze of no thought brought

on by the fight, a new worry suddenly bubbled into Ashley's
peace. When did he learn how to chain attacks together like
that, not allowing even the slightest chance of
counterattack? He'd never done any such thing before
setting foot in Lea Monde. But now it was like he'd practiced
the technique for years upon years, until the pattern had
soaked all the way into his bones.

The armor having taken more damage than it could

handle, the Dark abandoned Dullaham and the empty metal
started to crumble. Another cold shiver of fear sliding down
his spine, Ashley stepped back and asked himself;

"What am I?"

8
§3 Steel Fangs, Fragile Soul
Lea Monde-- a castle town with 2,000 years of history.
At its height, over 5,000 people lived within its walls.
However, 25 years ago, a very large, very localized
earthquake struck with no warning. In one night a thriving
city whose strong walls had never been breached was
reduced to a ruined haunt of the dead.
The city's beginnings lay in the Kiltian Age, legend
attributing it's founding to a sorceress of extraordinary
power named Mullenkamp. The price for fooling with the
evil magicks she possessed came in the form of a great
earthquake, visited upon her descendents. Ashley
remembered hearing that when he was a young boy.
Young Ashley had thought that a very strange thing to
say. How could one be punished for using something that
didn't exist?
But God existed. Yes, Young Ashley was a very devout
believer in God-- an omniscient, omnipresent, benevolent
deity who watched lovingly over the doings of Mankind. That
God would not stand for evil magic like that which
Mullenkamp supposedly used. That God would have
destroyed such darkness instantly. Young Ashley absolutely
would not believe that his God would meet out any
retribution that looked like a "curse". Besides, present Lea
Monde was the heart of the pious Iocus sect.
Supposing it were true that Mullenkamp existed, then
the sublime being that lived in Heaven, whose omniscience
the church priests always preached about, would most
certainly not be omniscient.
The guileless Young Ashley who had so fully believed
in a just, kind God had long ago vanished into the realms of
the forgotten. The Ashley who lived with the harshness of
Reality didn't believe one whit in god or miracles. He had
understood that both were simply tools by which priests
controlled the uneducated masses. In a sense, that made the
clergy similar to Riskbreakers, warriors charged with keeping
the peace, albeit they used religion and faith instead of
swords and bows.
Yet now, having stood in Lea Monde and witnessed
the magic, the Dark, that permeated every pebble, Ashley
began to think believing in God might be a good idea. Not an
all-seeing, all-knowing nice God mind you, simply one that
was a counter-power to the Dark.
9
Hence the tragedy that struck Lea Monde 25 years
ago may well have been divine retribution, just from an
imperfect god. But whatever that punishment was, Ashley
was convinced it wasn't some natural disaster like an
earthquake. Something else set all 5,000-plus inhabitants of
Lea Monde to standing on the banks of the Styx. Why?
Because for an earthquake that theoretically killed everyone
in the city, it had left the buildings surprisingly well intact. An
earthquake assuredly had happened, but it wasn't one of a
great enough scale to annihilate an entire city. Another, far
more abominable disaster had fallen upon the place and
turned it into a haunted wreck.
The power to snuff out several thousand lives in an
instant--- no matter how evil that power was, mankind
would certainly hold it in awe, naming it the manifestation
of a god's divine might. As for the true reasons for it's use in
the unjust slaughter of a city, others could search for it at
their convenience.
Perhaps that reason was the otherworldly power of
the Dark itself. Whoever could attain it would, in the eyes of
the superstitious masses, become a god. It would not be a
far stretch of the imagination to believe that the Cardinal
had sent his Crimson Blades, led by Romeo Guildenstern,
into Lea Monde in defiance of the Parliament for just such a
reason. Capture the sorcerer Sydney and torture all the
secrets of the Dark out of him, then make its might the
property of the Church. That would make the Church even
more powerful than all of Valendia.
Of course, the VKP would not just sit idly by and watch
that happen. Thus they sent Ashley to permanently silence
the voices of all who knew of that plan, down to the last
Crimson Blade.
In the end, this whole trumped up affair in Lea Monde
boiled down to something no different from a normal
mission; a lethal battle between men. So Ashley thought as
he examined the battered edge of his sword. He didn't have
to listen to Sydney's confusing words or fear the
hallucinations of his past. All he had to do was take
sharpened steel to the enemies of the VKP.
Discovering the city's buildings intact held an
unexpected bonus for Ashley. In the residential districts, the
Cultists had found and restored several places that were
indispensable to any militant organization; workshops. With
the fire laid in the forge, the shops' interiors looked almost
as they would have prior to the Great Quake.
In the process of his fights with monsters and
especially the armor-clad Crimson Blades, Ashley's weapons
had sustained significant damage. Striking the metal armor
had left countless nicks in the Fandango's blade and warped
the head of the Tovarisch enough to seriously affect the
weapon's balance.
 Even the Seventh Heaven's string was stretched to
the point where the crossbow's piercing strength was
severely lessened.

Finding an unoccupied workshop, Ashley promptly

set about repairing his arsenal. Fortunately, the Cultists had
been considerate enough to leave behind plenty of neatly
arranged tools.

First, dismantle the blade by removing the thick nail

holding the blade to the grip. Exchange the damaged grip for
a new, better one. Repair the damaged blade simply by
heating it in the forge and pounding out the flaws. Sharpen
the new blade with a whetstone and reaffix it to the new grip
with a new nail to replace the one bent by the initial removal
process. Secure it tightly enough so that the blade did not
rattle.

Ashley gazed into the silver flat of his repaired sword.

That ritual was one he always followed before any mission,
so that he could find the right frame of mind to kill--- so that
he too could become simply a sword. Holding on to that idea,
he set to work repairing all the weapons he carried to better-
than-new condition.

In the mirror-like face of a blade he caught a glimpse

of his own dead eyes. Then, as if they stood behind him
looking over his shoulders, he saw the eyes of his murdered
wife and child. They too stared down at a sword that had
drunk gallons of blood. Just polished it gleamed red in the
forge's light, as if it had just been pulled from another dying
body. But the body wasn't that of a terrorist and the wet
blood red was not that of a fallen knight.

It was the body of a beloved wife and the innocent

blood of a son…

A wordless scream echoed hollowly off dead stone

walls.

10
§4 Souls that Cannot Die-- Hell in the Waking
World
The Crimson Blades' young priest, Grissom, was
beyond a doubt dead.
Surrounding Lea Monde like the sea surrounds the
island upon which the city sits lies the Snowfly
Forest. Droves of the white insects that give the forest its
name flutter wildly all through out it, a living blizzard. In the
deepest glades Grissom made his stand, intending to show
Sydney just how far his skills with the Dark extended. He
attempted to summon a defender powerful enough to drive
off both the black-clad priest and Ashley, who suddenly
stumbled upon the scene.
But, as Sydney had warned, Grissom overstepped
himself. He called more power than he could handle, being
devoured by the very strength he'd hoped would save
him. By summoning a being far exceeding what he had
imagined, the extra strain on his mind and body likely caused
sudden cardiac arrest. Obviously, the sorcerers the Cardinal
thought to train in secret still had a long road ahead of them
before they could reach Sydney's level of mastery.
Yet Grissom had barely fallen before he stood once
again, for all appearances completely revived. High on the
new life and power the Dark had infused in him, Grissom
triumphantly raised his voice and called forth a living armor
greater than Dullaham, this time intent on killing the two
interlopers. Perhaps it was the influx of power from the
portal to the Other Grissom's first summoning had half-
opened that triggered his surprising revival. Or maybe, in the
second that he died, the Dark already in his system gained
an opportunity to infect his entire body, morphing into a
different sort of fell strength.
Quickly appraising the situation, Ashley chose to fight
with Sydney, an opponent he was only supposed to capture,
in order to destroy Grissom and his summoned defender,
who were both actively attempting to kill him. Slamming his
sword through Grissom's heart, he felt it still for a second
time. Once again dead, the priest did not rise a third time.
For those humans stained by the touch of the Dark,
death means one of two things. One is simple
inconvenience, as in Sydney's case. Even with a crossbow
bolt running straight through his heart, he was capable of
swift and total recovery. In other words, Sydney posessed
"complete immortality". However, not just anyone could
attain it. Ashley was certain there was some other secret to
it. A secret for which Grissom and all the rest of the
Cardinal's forces were searching. They would have no easy
time finding it, he was sure. Was that missing piece simple
to attain, the Crimson Blades would not have been able to
hunt the Cultists into near annihilation. Likely, Sydney's
complete immortality was something only one man could
posess at a time.
11
All the other souls bearing the Dark's stain were
assured the other death-- "incomplete death". When a soul
merges with flesh, the resultant state is called "life". Upon
"death", the soul is freed from the flesh, returning to the
Other. Likewise, the moment a new flesh is conceived in the
womb of a mother, a soul comes out of the Other to merge
with it. That is the proper cycle for all things of limited life-
span.
Souls touched by the Dark have been yanked out of
that cycle. Even after the body has perished, the soul is not
allowed the peace of the Other. Bearing the taint marking it
as part of the Dark, it is condemned to walk the world of the
living for eternity. Bodilessness alone brings on
indescribable agony for the damned soul-- a soul which
cannot die. That is "incomplete death". Those bearing that
cursed fate slowly go mad, their sense of "self" fraying to
shreds. Desperately, they seek any suitable body to posess,
so that they can escape their torment even for a short
time. A "suitable body" is one which lacks a soul; a corpse.
All the zombies and skeletons Ashley had seen
rambling about ever since setting foot within Lea Monde
were undoubtedly manifestations of that theory. Long since
having forgotten who they were when they had lived, driven
relentlessly by a jealous hatred of the living, they attack
anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path.
Once the body they posessed decomposes, or is
otherwise rendered unusable, the souls are once again
forced out bare into the pain of the Waking
World. Immediately, they begin to search for another flesh
cage to lock themselves in, fighting others of their kind
viciously for the chance. And so on, forever.
That, Ashley thought, was a pretty good picture of
what he'd expect Hell to be like. Grissom failed to achieve
complete immortality. That left only the path of incomplete
death for him to follow.
Given what Ashley had witnessed thus far, the deeper
the Dark's stain upon a creature, the faster its body turns to
dust upon death. In many cases, mere seconds passed
between the striking of the fatal blow and the complete
disintegration of the body. Killed by his own summoning,
Grissom should have crumbled to ash within a few moments,
his soul stripped of self and left to prowl the confines of Lea
Monde's bespelled walls.
Emphasis on should have.
But he once again found his way into Ashley's path in
the broken and sunken alleys of Undercity East, far from the
wild green and dancing white of Snowfly Forest. His body
was stone cold and his blood sluggish, but Grissom was still
unmistakably himself. By some tragic fall of Fate's dice, he'd
re-posessed his own body. He was completely unaware of
his own death. Wondering at his body's strange
unresponsiveness, he did not even think to name it what it
was; rigor mortis.
 Then Neesa and Tieger arrived, a pair of the few
surviving Crimson Blades. It wasn't until they-- his sworn
companions and fellow commanders-- told him, that
Grissom realized the truth. As if that revelation was the
trigger, madness erupted within his mind. Voices from
nowhere whispered to him that his "friends" were only after
the hard-won flesh he'd so recently possessed. They were
just another group of condemned souls, the incomplete
dead, and thus just more ways to split the few available
corpses. Grissom's self began to unravel, the coldly polite
priest disappearing under the ravening jealousy of the living
felt by all the undying souls of Lea Monde.

Voicing a strange noise, the thing that once was

Grissom moved far faster and smarter than expected of a
zombie, quickly retreating into the labyrinthine ruins of
Undercity East. First, he needed to gather up some more of
the Dark's power… …then he could come back and drag his
"friends" down into his new world---

If existence meant only constant pain and an

unending search for corpses to posess, that was certainly
Hell. But to discover suddenly that you were already long
dead, and only sheer chance had thrown your soul back into
your own body-- that had to be Hell's deeper levels. Ashley
decided then and there that he wanted nothing to do with
immortality, neither Grissom's or Sydney's variety. He sent
up a quick prayer to the god he'd chosen temporarily to
believe in once again, praying that death would bring him
nothing but an end to everything. When somebody died, it
was best and proper for all of that person to die, both body
and soul.

Ashley paused for a moment. Was he really all that

different from Grissom? The past he had thought was his
was slowly being torn away, new memories and skills
floating out of the darkness of his mind. Was the "Ashley
Riot" he had believed himself to be for so long, was that man
already dead? Did some unknown pain-mad soul sit in the
back of his head, manipulating his corpse to kill the living
Crimson Blades? Was he truthfully just another of Lea
Monde's innumerable zombies?

Be that as it may, it was still too early for him to give

in to eternal sleep. So Ashley told himself, pulling together
the frazzled edges of his self. He hadn't the right to flee into
agony-provoked insanity. He had a mission to complete.

It didn't matter how brutal the Truth hidden in the

Dark heart of Lea Monde, Ashley would face it. As one
whose soul bore the taint of the Dark, he would hunt that
answer until his body faded to black dust on the wind. He
would follow it like a hound on the scent, until he recovered
his true self.

12
§5 A Quickening Within the Dark's Ancient
Capitol
Jan Rozencrantz. A former Riskbreaker, yet a man still
true to himself and his pragmatic machiavellianism. Human
to the core, he used everyone and trusted no one in the
pursuit of his desires. Of all the people wandering around
Lea Monde, groping after the Dark's promise of power,
Rozencrantz's motivation for wanting it was perhaps the
purest of them all; simple greed.
So Ashley mused muzzily as he watched the other
Riskbreaker's chest part company with his waist, the two
chunks flowering into a black ash that invisible winds
scattered throughout the Chamber of Reason.
But even Rozencrantz, fox-clever and grounded in
practicality as he was, believed -- impractically, foolishly--
that the Dark couldn't touch him at all. It was a Dark-
enchanted stone blade brought an end to that empty
fantasy, ushering Rozencrantz's Dark-stained soul down the
path to incomplete death, but it was that convenient,
believable lie that first doomed him.
So, given that, could it really be ruled out that
Rozencrantz was a brain-washed tool of the VKP?
Rozencrantz was a former Riskbreaker. Considering
all the top secret and highly sensitive information one
needed to know for missions, would the VKP really let him
simply retire? Even the idea that he got kicked out and was
then left to roam loose was hard to swallow. It was very,
very likely that Rozencrantz had been brainwashed; twisted
so that every idea and action he thought to be purely his own
was instead precisely what the VKP wanted him to do. A
sacrificial pawn sent into the fray to catalyze certain events
to the Parliament's benefit, if you will.
Ashley's train of thought stuttered to a halt, then
backtracked. Wait, perhaps he was only wishing that's what
happened-- a convenient, believable lie that would bolster
other thoughts that might just be more convenient,
believable lies…
Making conscious effort, Ashley gathered wits
scattered by Rozencrantz's nasty blow to the back of his
head and tried to stand. At the far end of his still-fuzzing
vision he could make out Sydney, near the doors leading out
of Kiltia's Temple, and off to the side tottered the newly
awakened stone goddess.
"I give you the City, Riskbreaker!" Sydney intoned,
aiming one slender hagane claw of one empty, eldritch metal
hand right at Ashley, "All it's power-- all to you! Make
haste! Join me! Already your powers are close to
readiness! Come!"
"Keep your cursed city!" Ashley shouted right back,
pent up anger and frustration suddenly welling up and
spilling out.
13
Come to think of it, Ashley hadn't so much chased
Sydney to Lea Monde as Sydney had lured Ashley there, but
for what reason the Riskbreaker had no idea. The blonde
prophet left behind a mile wide trail, and he never ventured
too far ahead of his supposed pursuer. At one point Ashley
even overtook Sydney-- only to be shunted off into the role
of Sydney's protector against the Dark Crusader. Sydney had
summoned a long parade of monsters to bar Ashley's way,
and each was undoubtedly formidable. But not a single one
was so overly terrible that Ashley couldn't defeat it with a bit
of work. It was almost as if Sydney could guess how good
Ashley would be at which place, and then summon a beast
that would push that level ever so slightly.
Unfathomable behavior on the part of a quarry
Ashley in no way understood, until Rosencrantz blurted out
the whole thing. Perhaps thinking Ashley too muddled or
unconscious, he laid the whole plot in the open during his
verbal sparring match with Sydney.
So Sydney never had any plans to kill him. No. Maybe
it is better said that Sydney was testing Ashley, tossing him
into Lea Monde's monster-infested mazes and watching to
see if the Riskbreaker made it out alive or not. Dying, of
course, meant that he wasn't up to Sydney's
requirements. However, survival meant power. With each
beast he killed his weapons mastery grew and the Dark's
roots sunk deeper into his soul. Theoretically, once he
reached the center of the maze, he would have become
Sydney's ideal… whatever. Put simply, Sydney
was training him, using repeated limit-pushing battles to
force Ashley's potential into a continuous, sharp
growth. That was the immortal's reasoning, his purpose
behind the otherwise odd actions he took.
And Sydney's ultimate motive: an Heir to the
Dark. He needed a successor to the Wellspring, and Ashley
was it. The Dark was the last thing Ashley ever wanted, and
he was sparing in the use of what he did have. Reason
enough, according to Sydney, to give the Riskbreaker power
equal to that of a god. Consequently, Ashley-- long since
stained black with the Dark's touch-- would receive the only
escape allowed from a gruesome incomplete death. As
Sydney's successor, he would inherit Complete Immortality.
Everything Rozencrantz, Guildenstern, the Cardinal
and the VKP were searching so desperately for, and Sydney
was handing it all to him on a silver platter.
Ashley didn't want it. Any of it. Was it really possible
for a born human to live and function in a human world once
he'd become something entirely different? Ashley thought
not.
 When he'd lost the only things that let him enjoy a
happy life as nothing more than a man, he'd fallen into a hell
of desire for that which he could never again have, and there
was no way out. The Dark was no miracle. It couldn't sate
that desire by bringing back his family or the simple, quiet
happiness he'd known. It couldn't even tell him if he'd ever
really had a family and a happy life in the first place. It
certainly couldn't change his past as a licensed murderer in
the VKP. No, the Dark was a saltwater drought that would
parch a throat further for every sip taken.
"Where's Merlose?!"
At least Merlose, he thought. If he could do nothing
else, he wanted to bring Callo Merlose safely out of this fairy
tale turned waking nightmare. He'd failed once before to
protect his family, and even if that memory was no more
than a warped lie it did nothing to change the guilt ridden
self-loathing that ate at his heart. This time he would not fail.
Almost as if he'd heard the whole of that inner
monologue, Sydney smiled a mysterious little smile and
turned his back on the other man. Striding out of the
Chamber, he casually threw over his shoulder;
"You may be able to save them-- your wife and
child. Should you meet them, repent Ashley, repent!"
A multi-pronged barb driven straight into his deepest
pain, all the blood drained from Ashley's face in a rush. A
second later, his tired brain finally processed the meaning of
what Sydney had said.
-----he could save Tia and Marco?
He had to know what Sydney really meant by those
words. Shoving himself all the way to his feet, Ashley started
after the blonde's retreating figure. He'd gone no more than
three steps when something interposed itself between him
and his quarry.
Kali. The living statue. Carved into the likeness of an
ancient, foreign goddess of war, it had been in a convenient
place at a convenient time for Sydney. Using a small bit of
the power coveted by everyone excepting himself and
Ashley, he'd brought the stone demoness to life.
14
She'd been waiting patiently for the chance to strike,
body torquing in a strangely snakelike, hypnotic
fashion. Three beautiful faces looked out from atop two sets
of shoulders, the entirety of the Chamber of Reason well
within her field of vision. Four slim arms belied their weak
appearance, each holding aloft a huge, wickedly sharp
weapon. One arm swung in wide arcs the great sword that
had cut Rozencrantz in two. Another held a gargantuan,
forklike sasumata ready to rend. A mace so big that one
blow would likely smash every bone in his body, and an axe
that could probably slice his shield and his self in half in a
single swipe hung poised in the other two arms, ready to
strike the second an opportunity presented itself. Magic
wound through her twisting, dance-like step, drawing the
eye and sapping strength.
For all that she was just a stone likeness of the old
goddess, the power of one deified by present day believers
had been poured into her. She would not be easy to
destroy. Not easy, but not impossible either. Sydney would
not have given her life if he did not think Ashley capable of
taking it from her. His strength had grown to the point
where he could go toe to toe with a god and win--- just as
Sydney knew it would.
In pursuit of the immortal bearing the mark of the
apostate, the Riskbreaker clashed with the Goddess of
Slaughter. Dark slammed against Dark and the air itself
trembled, a shockwave rippling through the whole of the
Wellspring like the first contraction of labor, foretelling the
birth of a new Ashley Riot---------.
§6 To a Realm Beyond the World of Human
Knowledge
The lovely, pale skin of Commander Samantha slipped
from sight, the cold, dawnless black of Lea Monde
swallowing her whole. One red rose blossomed on her
breast, the inked lines of a tattoo, and another --still
blooming-- blood crimson rose colored her stomach. At it's
center glittered the blade of a short dagger, stabbed nearly
to the hilt in her gut. The man she loved and whom she had
believed loved her, the man she trusted completely and
never once doubted, had stuck it there. Already mostly
dead, Samantha fell from the dome of the Great Cathedral
in a graceful arc, like a flower petal sinking with the rain
towards the hard stone ground so far below.
Ashley saw her, in that single second she dropped
past the Atrium's window. He'd been about to climb the
stairs leading up from that chamber of secret
sacrifices. Black dust drifted from her body, the
disintegration process already begun. Likely, only the dagger
that killed her would hit the flagstones below.
Such was the fate of every Blade Guildenstern led into
the Dark maelstrom at the heart of Lea Monde.
Even after the Commander's corpse past his line of
vision, Ashley was still completely aware of her. When the
Dark first touched both their souls, an uncanny connection
between their senses opened. Whether it was simply that
they had a "like rhythm", or some other unexplained cause
that created the bridge spanning their minds, Ashley didn't
know. However it happened, it gave him the power to see
through her eyes and hear with her ears. That link to
Samantha's mind, and the similar one leading to Callo
Merlose, provided handy insight into the movements of the
enemy's top ranks.
Her body dissolving and her soul starting to slip away,
one last thought ran through Samantha's mind and across
the bridge to Ashley's, where it rang clearly. It wasn't a
shriek of rage against the betrayal that made her a sacrifice
for another man's gain, nor was it a wail of regret over her
own death. It was fear--- fear of the bleak, blood-drenched
future her lover was chaining himself to in his desire for the
power of an ultimate dictator.
Save him! she cried to Ashley. Her enemy. Her lover's
enemy. Their only possible savior.
Ashley intended to do so.
He'd already accepted the duty of stopping
Guildenstern from Sydney, the blonde prophet's life
bleeding through his fingers from the gaping swath where
the Blood Sin's inked lines once twined. Shouldering both
pleas, Ashley stepped out into night air saturated with the
rain and the Dark, all of Lea Monde stretching out below him.
15
He walked into it calm. Any anger he may have felt at
Sydney and the way the other man had provoked
him, manipulated him, had evaporated long ago. All of the
eavesdropping on pasts, the prophesying, the warped truths,
even his charismatic façade as the Mullenkamp Cult's leader;
all of it was part of a meticulously tailored plan to save the
ones he loved. But that plan hadn't worked. So he placed
that burden on Ashley's shoulders, trusting the Riskbreaker
as his chosen successor.
It had been a conceited and entirely inconsiderate
thing for Sydney to do. Never mind that Ashley wanted
nothing to do with the Dark, the now-mortal Sydney had
taunted him with the "hunt", playing on the Riskbreaker's
fidelity to a mission and buried need to save his family in
order to grind him into the desired form. Despite that
callous disregard, Sydney's hidden hopes and desires were
something Ashley could understand.
Where "law" forms solid pillars that regulate and
stabilize mankind, "emotion" creates the crossbeams that
link the pillars together into the latticework called
"society". It was "emotion" -- love for one's parents,
affection for one's children, passion for one's spouse, trust
of one's friends, even the strange "best enemy" respect for
one's eternal opponent-- that held the human world
together. So Ashley believed. In a world without those soft
"emotions" it would be impossible to value human
life. Solemn laws and strict punishments alone lead only to
cowering fear and stacks of corpses. Guildenstern was
looking to create just such a world, binding the admittedly
weakened pillars of law into one hard column and placing
himself at the very top.
Crouching on the rain-drenched Cathedral roof, the
man who would be a god completely ignored Ashley's
entrance. His back to the Riskbreaker, Ashley got a clear look
at the stolen Blood Sin tacked onto Guildenstern's bare
back. No, not "tacked". The black-inked swath of skin had
melded completely onto his back, now as much a part of him
as it had been of Sydney.
Amidst the oppressive, evil-tinged, power-drenched
air, Ashley yelled;
"Guildenstern!!"
The man who'd unhesitatingly consigned his lover's
soul to an eternity of half-living hell lazily spun around. The
eyes that looked upon Ashley with black glee were nothing
but cloudy whites.
"Come, Riskbreaker…"
Elation danced in those foggy orbs, latching onto
Ashley's eyes with a mad intensity.
"Your death will be my rebirth!"
 With that announcement, the huge mass of Dark the Ashley slapped a 'heal' on the wound before he could
ritual sacrifice of Samantha had called to the top of the dome lose too much blood. The cantrip summoning the power had
suddenly began to condense into Guildenstern's right barely left his mouth when Guildenstern's words echoed
hand. Power flowed into the small area at the pinnacle of through not only his ears, but every nerve in his body.
Lea Monde, almost as if it were soaking in from the entirety
"Well parried, Riskbreaker. You truly are the greatest
of the broken city below. The air became so thick with the
bloodhound --blood-drenched, hell hound-- that the VKP has
heady force of its presence that goose bumps started
ever turned out. But you cannot destroy me. Lea Monde
crawling up Ashley's arms.
is mine. I am a GOD!"
Lightening brightness flared and Ashley instinctively
"……Oh I'll kill you, Guildenstern. You belong in this
protected his sight from the eye burning glare with an
world no longer."
upraised arm. When his vision finally cleared, the being that
stood in front of him was not the Guildenstern who had been As a Riskbreaker, Ashley had made it his mission to
there only seconds before. While there were similarities, the eliminate Guildenstern. Not for Parliament or Valendia
Guildenstern he looked at now was, on some fundamental would he destroy the power-mad creature of the Dark that
level, wrong. the Crimson Blade Commander had become, but for all the
people the world over, so that they could continue to live
Purple bolts of pure energy slithered across skin dyed
peacefully, as people. Shouldering the hope of humanity,
midnight black. It was not a simple case of his skin changing
Ashley brought to bear a power that transcended mortality.
color. Muscle, blood, bone, organs-- every last cell in
Guildenstern's body was drenched in the Dark, it's color In the skies above Lea Monde, two different "Darks"
staining his skin from the inside out. began to intertwine----.
His right hand held a gargantuan sword; a melding of
three blades made into the shape of the Blood Sin. A few
moments before, it had been atop the Cathedral's roof as a
simple decoration in the shape of the Iocus priesthood's
symbol, the Holy Win. But Guildenstern had changed it,
vaporizing the mundane metal and then instantly
recondensing it with ample amounts of Dark mixed in. The
result-- a super-dense, super-tensile alloy called Damascus.

Flipping the giant weapon about like it was no more

than a willow switch, the man-turned-god laughed once, a
harsh burst of sound that rolled out with a palpable wave of
force.

"Come help me celebrate my ascension!"

Guildenstern lifted his rood-blade high and the sword

immediately doubled in size, white light gushing from the tip
then instantly freezing, an icicle of power. The next second
it had whipped around him completely and smashed into
Ashley's defenses with frightening strength.

The Riskbreaker's eyes registered one strike, but the

rest of him felt at least three. Had he been even the slightest
nanosecond slow with his counter, his fate likely would have
been similar to Rosencrantz's.

Faster than a surprise attack, strong enough to slice

six unprepared Ashleys in half, Guildenstern was simply
probing at his opponent's defenses. A thought and he was
behind the other man, the rood-blade flicking out and slicing
through both magical and physical shields like neither was
there. Left behind was a not-shallow gash across Ashley's
well-toned abdomen.

16
Epilogue: Shouldering the World-- A Vagrant’s
Story Begins
Where do Dark-stained souls go when they die?
The mantle of Master of Lea Monde passed to a new
bearer, and in the process many new souls felt the touch of
the Dark. All --excepting one, of course-- were sent into the
arms of an incomplete death.
Before, the spell songs etched into every wall of the
City would trap them within its bounds, forever confined on
this side of Oblivion. Insane and vicious, those rotted souls’
very presence served to entice more of the Dark into the
Wellspring, their hatred and pain feeding it.
But Lea Monde burned. Already in ruins before the
blaze, the fire-gutted corpse could no longer be called even
a shell of its former self. Unfortunately, those wretched
souls once stuck within it were not allowed the freedom
brought by destruction, though their cage was now gone. So
where do they all go now?
And what will happen to the survivors? That handful
of people who survived the fires and earthquakes that
leveled the old City yet bear the Dark’s taint. What will
happen to them when they die?
Ashley knows.
A living bridge between the world of the Dark and the
world of Mankind; successor to pure power, Ashley
Riot knows. The logic of Life, the meaning of Death, and the
Fate of those forever trapped in between-------
It was late on a rainy evening, precisely one week
after the extremist religious cult “Mullenkamp” staged an
attack on the estate of Duke Bardorba. In the trading city of
The Graylands, at his secondary residence, a lone visitor
begged an audience with the recuperating Duke. It was
hardly an appropriate hour for any visitor, let alone one
requesting personal audience with Duke Aldous Byron
Bardorba on his sickbed. Were this visitor anyone other than
who he was, the Chamberlain would have told him politely,
but coldly, to call again at a more suitable time of day, and
have him shown out.
However, this visitor showed the credentials of a VKP
agent. This was not someone the Chamberlain had the
power to admit or dismiss, he had to ask the Duke himself.
Thus it was that the visitor --Ashley Riot-- gained
entrance to the Duke’s bedchambers.
Looking back, all the servants mentioned how the
entire evening had been somewhat odd, an air of vague
abnormality suffusing everything. Usually, the Duke was
long asleep by that hour. Yet that night he made no move to
dim his candles, sitting up the whole evening as if he were
waiting for someone he’d long expected to come.
17
Upon showing Agent Riot in, the Chamberlain did as
the Duke ordered, having every servant within and nearby
the Duke’s private apartments, including himself,
withdraw. Predictably, of what then happened between the
two men there was not a single witness.
Four and a half hours later, the Chamberlain returned
to the rooms to inquire after the situation. Suspicious at the
complete lack of sound from within, he entered without
waiting for permission. Ashley was nowhere to be seen. The
Duke’s body, hours dead, lay serenely upon his bed, looking
more at peace than he had in years.
The VKP’s reaction to the Duke’s demise was
swift. Their spies within the residence had barely finished
reporting the death before the Coroner’s Squad was
knocking on the door. Scant minutes later, the Duke’s
apartments were cordoned off and the autopsy begun. No
signs were found of either external injury nor poisons. Given
that he had been ill for an extensive period of time, the
logical conclusion was that he’d finally succumbed to it.
Answer enough, as far as the public would be
concerned. Yet there remained the matter of Ashley’s
presence at the time and, unbeknownst to most, his
mission. The Riskbreaker may have found it necessary to
assassinate the Duke and, to avoid later troublesome
investigations, made the murder look like a natural
death. Ashley’s position as the last man to see the Duke alive
was evidence enough of that possibility.
Were this incident truly an extension of his mission
concerning the Mullenkamp attack a week prior, then it had
been Ashley’s judgment that, for the peace and safety of
Valendia, its most revered National Hero needed to die. To
do so for such reasons was well within his rights as a
Riskbreaker, so of course he would face no charges. In fact,
the VKP would throw all its might into a coverup, even going
so far as to brainwash any possible witnesses.
Thus, the entire residence was shut down and sealed
off, the VKP fully expecting a report from Ashley inside the
hour, informing them of a situation along the lines of their
supposition.
Twelve hours later, there was no report. There was
no Ashley either, VKP Headquarters realizing it could no
longer locate its foremost agent. In that instant, the VKP’s
attitude towards the situation made a sudden about-
face. Ashley had gone AWOL. It had become more likely that
the Duke’s assassination was not for reasons of national
security, but for Ashley’s own personal reasons. Given that,
the now former-Riskbreaker’s license to kill was rendered
null and void. His actions were no longer considered the
erasure of a national threat, but the premeditated murder of
a high noble and renowned public figure. The VKP
immediately assembled and deployed a search-and-capture
team.
 Twenty-four hours after the Duke’s demise an official,
public announcement labeled Ashley Riot the foremost
suspect in the most foul murder of the beloved Duke Aldous
Byron Bardorba.
Yet, counter to the expectations of the VKP’s top
brass, the dragnet they believed had been set up with
lightning speed failed to capture even the slightest trace of
Ashley‘s whereabouts. It was almost as if he’d vanished from
the Duke’s bedchambers in a puff of smoke.
Under the black leather trench coat, his destiny inked
fine lines across his back. Shouldering the burdens implicit
in that contract, Ashley turned away from the now-bustling
residence and began to walk. The rain-drenched alley ran
ahead of him, the beginning of an endless path into a place
of eternal twilight, a place unfathomable to the mortal mind;
the seam where Reality and Magic melt together.
And so begins the story of the wanderer---- the
vagrant.

The entire search yielded only one lead, and a tiny

one at that. A sentry mentioned that while on routine patrol
duty the night of the murder, he came across Inquisitor Callo
Merlose, Ashley’s assigned partner in the Mullenkamp
investigation, loitering on the outskirts of the Duke’s
residence near the time of the murder. Prior to that sighting,
Inquisitor Merlose’s last report had come a week earlier,
mentioning the decision to pursue the cult to Lea Monde. It
was possible that she had been an accomplice to Ashley's
crime.

Unfortunately even that small lead came to a rapid

dead end, for after that single sighting she too disappeared
just as thoroughly as Ashley had……

A steady, cold rain pelted the cobblestones. Ashley

stood at the mouth of a dim alleyway, quietly watching the
Duke’s bedchamber window. He stood patiently,
waiting. Sydney Losstarot had borrowed his face and his
name for one last visit to the Duke, and he would be
returning shortly.

And return he did; in soul, anyway. His body had

turned to black ash a little while before. With him came the
Duke, their deaths intertwined, as decreed by their unique
compact with the Dark.

Lea Monde was gone. Its rune-carved walls

destroyed, they could no longer bind the Dark-cursed
dead. Instead, as one they flowed into a new vessel--- Ashley
himself. Accepting an uncountable number of souls, an
uncountable number of lost dreams, Ashley provided a
peaceful haven for every last, condemned one.

He’d come to terms with being Master of the Dark

and his duty, as he saw it, was not to rule, but to
stabilize. Unlimited power had been granted him not to use
as he pleased, but to enable him to smooth out the wrinkles
where the world of the Dark collided with Reality.

As Master of the Dark, Ashley knows. The path the

survivors of Lea Monde will take is as plain as day to
him. Callo, Tieger, Neesa, even young Joshua; any road they
choose will inevitably lead to him. If not in life, then of a
certainty in death. Their flight to paradise could go no other
way.

18
 PERSONAGENS
ASHLEY
Valendia Knights of the Peace (VKP)
Riskbreaker
Male
Late 20's
approx. 6'0"
The VKP's greatest Riskbreaker. Upon graduating
from the VKP Academy at the top of his class, he was
assigned to the Kingsguard. He walked a path so elite it could
have come straight out of a storybook tale of heros--- until
the death of his beloved wife and son at the hands of
common thugs. After that, his life made a complete about-
face. Consumed by grief over the loss of his loved ones and
rage at the perpetrators of the crime, Ashley resigned from
the Kingsguard, voluntarily joining the VKP's darkest and
most dangerous squad: The Dangerous Criminal Task Force,
more often called 'The Riskbreakers.' By that time he may
well have killed his soul, undertaking missions with the sure
calm of a machine. In short order, he was the VKP's most
reliable agent.
Then came the orders to deal with the Müllenkamp
occupation of Duke Bardorba's Manor. There, Fate crossed
his path with that of one Sydney Losstarot. The result of that
meeting set Ashley on the road to Lea Monde.
Ashley Riot was last seen one week later, at the
Duke's Secondary Residence. Immediately after his visit to
the mansion, the Duke himself was reported dead. The VKP
has named him the prime suspect in the Duke's murder, and
has undertaken investigation.
CHARACTER ANALYSIS
Combat Ability: Ashley is so skilled that it's effectively
a given that he will come through any mission alive. He is
well versed in all weapon-types, though his preference lies
with one-handed swords. When he infiltrated the Duke's
Manor, he chose to use a blade of that type.
Separation of Mind and Soul: In addition to incredible
combat ability, Ashley possesses an unshakable composure-
- a "perfect Riskbreaker". However, that perfection comes at
the cost of killing his soul and emotions. Looking from that
different angle, Ashley is an "imperfect human being".
19
Distance From Others: Ashley is a man of very few
words. Upon meeting his new partner Callo for the first time,
he completely ignored any personal overtures like
introductions. Instead he focused solely on the assignment.
Any other connections were superflous and hence
unnecessary-- obvious evidence of his closed-off heart.
The Necklace: Hanging from a chain about his neck is
the symbol of the Iocus Church: the Rood. Given to him by
his beloved wife while she yet lived, it is his most treasured
memento.
TOP SECRET
Ashley has always walked on the straight and narrow.
Even though he moved from the Kingsguard to the shadier
Riskbreakers, he maintained his belief in protecting
Valendia's citizens and preserving justice. Or so his few
memories lead him to believe.
Yet, within his physical memory are killing techniques
that his mind does not remember learning. As he fights his
way deeper and deeper into Lea Monde, these lethal abilities
reappear one by one. Perhaps Ashley himself wanted them
to be sealed away, because with the reemergence of each
one come fragments of a painful past.
MEMORIES OF HIS FAMILY
Ashley believes he once had a wife and son, both of
whom were killed by common thugs as he stood by
helplessly. That tragic event stoked the fires of hatred in his
heart, providing him the impetus for joining the VKP. But
those fires burn both ways-- at the thugs for killing his family
and at himself for failing to protect them despite his
incredible skill. The burns scar his heart wide and deep.
To escape the continual pain, Ashley threw himself
completely into his work, marching steadily through the
present, not once looking back on the "good old days". What
few memories remain to him support this view of his
"present self".
Yet...
Are the deaths of his wife and son truely the reason
he closed his eyes to his past?
Were they really killed by "thugs"?
Did he even have a wife and son?
Even Ashley himself is uncertain of these things.
 Aloof Charisma: As the most powerful user of the
SYDNEY
Dark within the Müllenkamp Cult, the true extent of what
Müllenkamp Cult
Sydney can do is unknown. Even his best friend Hardin is
unsure of what Sydney is capable. With what power he does
Leader of the Müllenkamp Cult
display, Sydney gathers ever more followers, but at the same
time he ever more hides his true intentions, becoming alone
male
in the midst of a crowd.

unknown (late 20's?)
approx. 5'11"
Founder and leader of the Müllenkamp Cult. He is
devastatingly handsome, with his silk-fine golden blonde
hair and porcelain white skin, but somewhere within that
gender-neutral beauty lies a distinct aura of danger. His
charisma is so alluring that almost anyone who comes into
contact with him is instantly captivated. Even amongst the
larger part of his followers-- the self-styled "Keepers of the
Word"-- Sydney stands out like a butterfly among moths.
The Greatest Weapon: Only on a very few occasions
does Sydney directly fight another. Why bother? He can
easily summon monsters to do the fighting for him. He can
even impose his will on other humans... The Crimson Blades
have found more than a few of their own dead "at their own
hands"-- hands that were influenced by Sydney.
TOP SECRET
Neither Sydney's arms nor his legs are living flesh, but
eldrich metal. During his infancy, he spent quite a bit of time
on the edge of life and death. Only at the price of all 4 of his
limbs was his life narrowly saved. Now, Sydney describes
that event as "giving his limbs to the gods."

Likely, his incredible charm comes from his

possession of the mysterious power known as the "Dark". Rumor has it that that event could have a connection with
From that also stems his ability to speak of a person's past Sydney's immortality. It was shortly after that time in his life
with uncanny accuracy; "listening" to their souls, even after when the Blood Sin was first noticed on his back.
only just meeting them. Clever politician that he is, Sydney
then manipulates what he has "heard" as he wishes.
Ordinary folk can't help but think he makes miracles. Thus
his believers increase and his influence expands.

Perhaps the greatest of all his "miracles" is his own

immortality, not dying even though his heart was pierced
clean through.

Originally, the control of the Müllenkamp Cult laid

with Duke Bardorba. For unknown reasons, Sydney decided
to change that, assaulting the Manor of his former
benefactor. There, he first met Ashley Riot, the agent sent by
the VKP to quel the situation. Intrigued by what he "heard"
in Ashley's soul, not to mention the Riskbreaker's fearless
fighting techniques and sheer talent, Sydney deftly provoked
the other man into chasing him to Lea Monde.

CHARACTER ANALYSIS

Connection with the Duke: Between Sydney and Duke

Bardorba lies a connection other than the simple one of
benefactor-beneficiary. Sydney's allusions toward making
knowledge of the Dark public -- such as his summoning of a
wyvern in the Manor -- seem to be intended to force the
Duke into a particular decision.

Interest in Ashley: Sydney puts special effort into

provoking Ashley, putting stronger and stronger monsters
into his path. Each encounter increases the Riskbreaker's
skills and tempers his personality, forcing out more and
more memories and abilities. But what is Sydney's reason for
doing that? Only he knows.

20

GUILDSTERN
Order of the Crimson Blades
Leader of the Crimson Blades
male
32 years old
approx. 6'0"
Leader of the Crimson Blades, he graduated from the
Academy at the top of his class with a sterling record. It was
not long after that the Cardinal himself heard of his talents
and loyalty, so Guildenstern found himself assigned a
generous position. While refined and elegant in manners,
from his speech and habits one can paint a picture of a man
to whom the ends justify the means.
Rozencrantz & Guildenstern: Guildenstern has
devoted his life to the single path leading to his Dream.
Rozencrantz, on the other hand, comes and goes like a fickle
breeze, speaking with a silver tongue and eaisly changing his
stance to fit the situation. Those shifty traits Guildenstern
finds most abominable.
TOP SECRET
In Lea Monde, Guildenstern witnessed dozens of
mysteries, yet he didn't bat an eye. His only focus was
improving his command of the Dark. To the normal Crimson
Blade, Lea Monde gave them their first taste of magic. That
they also could learn to use it's power shocked them terribly.
However, Guildenstern's previous exposure had long
accustomed him to the Dark and its usage.
Rumor also has it that he is "The Cardinal's Chosen."

When the Müllenkamp Cult occupied the Duke's

Manor, Guildenstern and the Blades moved on the Cardinal's
orders, attacking the mansion without notifying the VKP.
There, he employed heavy-handed tactics, setting buildings
aflame indiscriminantly and ruthlessly supressing any
retaliation. Discovering Sydney already fled, he immediately
began persuing the Cult to Lea Monde. The true aim of the
persuit, however, was not to capture a felon or exterminate
a heretic. In other words, this wasn't the Crimson Blades'
typical "witch hunt". Instead, Guildenstern seems to be after
Sydney's "power".

Once in Lea Monde, Guildenstern undertakes a more

thorogh search for Sydney, as well as setting his
subordinates in the path of the new thorn-in-his-side:
Ashley.

CHARACTER ANALYSIS

Dying for a Dream: Guildenstern does have a lover

within the Blades; Samantha. He is fond of her, but not in
love with her. There are parts of his heart which she does not
know. It seems that the Cardinal's Prodigy instead loves only
his "One Dream".

Priest and Mage: Though he is a member of the Holy

Orders, Guildenstern has no qualm about using the
"heretical powers" of the Dark. In fact, his mastery of them
is such that he may even match Sydney.

Battle Prowess: There are only a few times when

Guildenstern directly confronts another, so analysing his
ability is difficult. Yet, taking a look at his attitude during
encounters with Sydney and Rozencrantz, it's clear that he
has confidence in his swordsmanship.

21
 CALLO MERLOSE
Valendia Knights of the Peace
(VKP)
Inquisitor
female
23 years old
approx. 5'7"
Though still young, Callo Merlose is a top notch
Inquisitor. Both beauty and brains, Callo is darkly exotic and
highly intelligent. She received a degree in Psycholology
from the Academy, specializing in the study of the criminal
and the religious psyche. After graduation, she moved into
the VKP proper, earning a position in the Information
Analysis Unit. She has not been there long but she is keenly
observant and coolly logical, putting her head and shoulders
above her more experienced colleagues.
Assigned to support Ashley during the occupation of
the Duke's Manor, her job was to help him get into the
Manor. After Sydney's escape and Ashley's subsequent
persuit, she had little choice but to follow her assigned
partner to Lea Monde. Shortly after arriving there, she was
captured by Sydney. However, that situation ended up
playing into her hands, as forced proximity to both Sydney
and the tailing Blades allowed her to study them carefully.
Yet her official report was titled only "Observations in
the Wine Cellar."
CHARACTER ANALYSIS
Natural Inquisitor: Information analysis is not so
much a job to Callo as it is a natural habit. Though thrust
suddenly into the dangerous role of a hostage, she was still
able to calmly observe everything going on around her.
Perhaps that is the root of the ability to read the "inner
hearts" of others which she developed in Lea Monde.
22
ROSECRANTZ
Valendia Knights of the Peace(?)
(VKP)
Riskbreaker (?)
male
Late 20's
An enigmatic man, he shadows Ashley's movements
for reasons unknown to all but himself. He claimed to be a
replacement for Callo: a more experienced Riskbreaker sent
by the VKP to supplant an inexperienced Inquisitor. A
transparent excuse, considering any Riskbreaker knows they
always work alone and mid-mission changes in plan never
occur.
Despite that lack of fore-knowledge, Rozencrantz
knows a surprising amount of information about the
Müllenkamp Cult's inner workings, Sydney's powers, and the
true form of the Dark. Indeed, he knows way too much to be
a simple agent of the VKP. It appears that he double-crossing
several organizations at the same time.
Though the evidence is scant, there are hints of a
connection between him and Duke Bardorba.
With a slow drawl and a quick wit, Rozencrantz
skillfully deflects all attempts to divine his true motivations
or intentions.
He is also purported to have the ability to render the
Dark useless.
CHARACTER ANALYSIS
A Peculiar Philosopher? Despite piles of casual and
not so casual insults hurled at him by the Crimson Blades,
Rozencrantz doesn't care. His aim is simple-- to get ahead in
the world. He will do whatever necessary to achieve that
goal. To him, the ends always justify the means. A philosophy
certainly not shared by the Blades.
 JOHN HARDIN
Müllenkamp Cult
Second in Command
male
29 years old
Sydney's right-hand man, and a key commander of
the Müllenkamp Cult. They led the assault on the Duke's
Manor together, but Harden held the responsibility for
caring, or not caring, for the hostages.
Unlike the multitudes of Sydney's other followers,
Hardin did not enter the cult under the spell of the prophet's
sermons or bewitched by his charisma. Instead, incredibly
distrustful of a world where injustice was commonplace, the
former police officer was attracted to the anti-establishment
elements of the Cult.
Both Hardin and Sydney consider each other their
truest friend. Sydney confides his secrets in Hardin, and in
return Hardin trusts Sydney completely. If doubt or
confusion ever arises between the two, it is never long-lived.
While Hardin may look intimidating, what with his
ever-fierce expression and five-o'clock shadow, inside lies a
warm and personable fellow.
CHARACTER ANALYSIS
Hardin's Kindness to Joshua: Though the Duke's son
Joshua is technically a hostage, Hardin shows him an
inordinate amount of affection. While that kindness is truly
from the heart, ulterior motives prompt it along. Long ago,
Hardin lost his younger brother and now he seeks to attone,
putting Joshua in the dead boy's place.
23
JOSHUA
Duke Bardorba's Family
Son
4 years old
Duke Bardorba's son, conceived in his twilight years.
Still an innocent, angelic little boy, he is the Duke's
irreplaceable child, his "light." During the occupation of the
Manor by Müllenkamp, Joshua was taken hostage along with
the mansion's servants and the rest of his family. However,
he alone was allowed to live, taken with Sydney to Lea
Monde. Sydney is no fool. He was well aware of how the
Duke values Joshua. Perhaps this is just another step in
Sydney's plan to force the Duke into a certain course of
action.
The shock of the attack on the Manor and the
following kidnapping pushed little Joshua into silence,
uttering not a single word since he was first captured.
Strangely, he is very attached to Hardin, the very person who
started his traumatic experiences. Not to say Joshua isn't
aware of who kidnapped him. He simply accepts Hardin's
genuine kindness with the guileless sincerity of a child.
CHARACTER ANALYSIS
Scars on the Heart: Joshua is the one person who
holds all of the Duke's love. He knows nothing of his father's
plots, the Dark, Lea Monde or the whole mess surrounding
all of them.
Every so often, an illusionary boy looking exactly like
Joshua appears before Ashley or Callo. The boy is
undoubtedly a reflection of someone's soul, but just who is
unknown.
 DUKE BARDORBA
Duke Bardorba's Family
The Duke Himself
64 years old
approx. 5'9"
Former Member of the Valendian Parliament
The Duke's full name is Aldous Byron Bardorba. He
participated actively in the Valendian Civil War 36 years ago,
earning recognition as one of the heroes who brought that
conflict to a close. Thanks to the merits of his valor his
political say always held especial weight, dominating the
Valendian Parliament for a very long time. Though he retired
his position several years prior for reasons more than just his
health, the Duke's influence in Parliament has hardly
diminished.
In addition to his official Parlimentary duties, the
Duke was also charged with "monitoring" the Dark, making
certain some incidents never reach public attention.
Common rumor names him the benefactor of the
Müllenkamp Cult.
Despite his increasing age, the Duke's mind hasn't
fogged in the slightest and though ill he retains all of his
dignity. If he does have a weak-point, it is certainly his young
son Joshua.
When Müllenkamp occupied his manor, he safely
retreated to his Secondary Residence. Yet, one week later,
he was found dead in his appartments, supposedly at the
hand of the visiting Ashley.
CHARACTER ANALYSIS
The Heart of a Manipulator of the Dark: Though it was
his own manor that was occupied, the Duke escaped even
the slightest difficulty. Safe in his Secondary Residence, he
watched the events occur. He then went as far as to order
the sacrifice of his family and staff.
He does turn the same cynicism on himself, saying it
is his fate to "rot alive." That casts some question about the
heart-coldness of this "manipulator" of the Dark.
24
Tia Riot
The wife within Ashley's memories. A beautiful and
refined woman, he married her while still assigned to the
Kingsguard. While all three of them were picnicking one day,
she was murdered by fallen knights.
Marco Riot
Ashley's only son by Tia. Like her, he took a killer's
blade in the heart during the brightness of mid-day. Young
as he was, he died that day. His relationship with Ashley, his
"Papa", was incredibly close.
Commander Duane
While a cleric and technically a proponent of pacifism,
Duane joined the infiltration of Lea Monde brimming with
plans to eradicate the heresies that abound there. Since his
training focused on the priestly, he lacks skill with physical
weaponry. However, a considerable array of strong offensive
magicks makes up for that short-fall.
Gifted with a talent for leading others, Duane was
given charge of a small platoon. To his subordinates, he is
haughty and merciless.
Commander Grissom
Duane's younger brother, and similarly a cleric and
participant in the take-over of Lea Monde. A comely youth,
he has none of his elder brother's harsh tone or vicious
manner, remaining coolly polite even to his enemies. Yet
hidden behind the elegant niceties lies a needle sharp mind
and an ice cold heart.
Of all the Crimson Blades involved, Grissom perhaps
has the greatest faith of them all -- in God and himself. He
has decided that it is his personal mission to "purify" the
Dark.
As for overall power, Grissom outstrips his elder
brother by a considerable margin.
 Commander Samantha
Another Crimson Blade participant in the infiltration
of Lea Monde, Commander Samantha looks like she should
be hunting for wedding dresses, not demons. She earned the
rank of "Commander", but upon walking through the Dark-
drenched streets of Lea Monde, uncertain of what new
monster waits around the corner-- a core of fear and
confusion began to grow within her. In the end, Samantha is
at heart a normal girl.

Between her and Guildenstern is more than a simple

superior-subordinate relationship. But while he never seems
to lose his cool even in respect to her, Samantha loves him
fiercely and with a single-minded devotion.

Commander Neesa
A cordial woman and a commander oft depended on
by Guildenstern. Though she is a woman, she has more than
enough skill to match blades with a man and come out on
top. Her chosen weapon is the Heavy Mace, and she swings
the huge, cumbersome thing like a light stick. She holds no
doubts about her work, and she never questions orders.

In contrast to the other female commander,

Samantha, Neesa is frank, blunt and not very feminine. She
gets along very well with fellow commander Tieger.

Commander Tieger
Yet another commander in the Crimson Blades. A
heavy-set, muscular man, Tieger uses his inborn strength to
swing his Heavy Axe around like a feather, crushing enemies
with a single powerful strike. You wouldn't guess it from
looking at him, but he is an intelligent and quick-witted man,
being very fast on the up-take.

Tieger is incredibly proud of his position as a knight

and commander, never once straying from his personal,
strict moral code. He is very friendly with his fellow Blades,
regarding the bond of friendship as a very serious thing.

25