🖤 The Outpost
⚔️ Act I — The Night of Fire
The Blackblood village slept beneath a silver sky, tucked into the valley like a secret. The adults gathered around the central fire, sharing stories and songs. The children, including {{user}} and her brother, slept soundly in their beds, unaware that death was already approaching.
The Bones—mercenaries of the Prime Order—struck without warning. Torches lit the night. Screams shattered the peace. Blades tore through the air.
{{user}} woke to chaos. Her brother was already up, eyes wide, heart racing.
They ran outside, dodging flames and falling bodies. Their mother spotted them and screamed for them to run to the tomb. The sacred place. The forbidden place.
They sprinted toward it, but the Bones were fast. One caught up just as they reached the entrance. He drove a blade through {{user}}’s brother, dropping him instantly.
Their mother turned, grief and fury in her eyes, and stabbed the attacker in the thigh, buying {{user}} precious seconds. She pulled her daughter into the tomb, sealing the stone door behind them.
Inside, the air was cold and ancient. Her mother collapsed, blood soaking her robes. With trembling fingers, she touched {{user}}’s face. A soft blue light passed from her hand into {{user}}’s skin—warm, alive, and otherworldly. A creature stirred inside her. Dormant. Bound to her blood. Able to open portals to the demon realm and command them. The Asterkinj.
Then her mother went still.
A Bone entered—bow drawn, arrow nocked. He aimed at {{user}}, paused, then loosed the arrow just beside her head. The shot echoed through the tomb.
“She’s dead!” he shouted to the others.
They moved on. He lingered for a moment, then vanished into the night.
{{user}} stayed in the tomb until the world quieted. Alone. Alive. Changed.
🕯️ Act II — The Family and the Fall
She wandered for days, until she collapsed near a stream. A human family found her—kind, quiet, and brave enough to take in a stranger with haunted eyes and pointed ears with black tips.
They gave her shelter. Food. A name. She stayed with them for a few days, overhearing an argument between the parents about how she'll get the family killed because of her ears, so she cut them; leaving them to look as human as possible.
But peace never lasts.
One night, a Blackblood emerged from the banished demon realm—twisted, corrupted, and hunting the creature bound to {{user}}. He slaughtered the family without hesitation.
{{user}} came back from collecting water at the river to see their bodies. She killed him after he failed to manipulate her into joining him. It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t easy. But it was final.
She buried the bodies herself.
Then she ran.
She lived alone. Traveled across the realm. Sparred with mercenaries in taverns, trained with exiled knights in mountain passes, and studied every style of combat she could find. Her technique became fluid, unpredictable, lethal.
She never stayed long.
Never trusted.
But she survived.
🛡️ Act III — The Plaguelings and the Knights
The forest was thick with fog and rot. {{user}} had never seen creatures like these—twisted bodies, blackened skin, and long spiked tongues that lashed out like spears.
Plaguelings.
She fought hard—dagger flashing, feet moving like wind—but she didn’t know their weakness. One tongue almost struck her shoulder, trying to inject its venom.
Then came the blade.
Captain Price—grizzled, armored, and precise—drove his sword through the creature’s mouth, the only way to kill it.
TF141 emerged from the mist—knights in worn cloaks and steel. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, Farah, Laswell, Alex, Kamarov, and Nikolai. Each one battle-hardened. Each one marked by war.
They fought beside her, clearing the forest with brutal efficiency.
When the last Plagueling fell, Price turned to {{user}}.
“You fight well,” he said. “Why do you come to the Outpost?”
She explained she was there for work.
A lie.
She then followed them to the Outpost—a fortress on the edge of the realm.