"Master, I regret to bring you bad news. None of our new 'recruits' passed the 'aptitude test.' Two of them attempted to flee out of fear, but they didn't escape 'them.' One survived, but he has been disfigured beyond recognition."

"Are there no young ones left who can do a little more? I went through the trouble of bringing our 'trainers' here."

"I'm sorry, Master. I will immediately issue a call for new 'recruits.'"

"Make sure you can find some decent lads. Where did you take the survivor, by the way?"

"At the moment, he is sitting in the dungeons outside the city, waiting for his death."

"Good. What about Captain Brelor? Has he returned from his mission yet?"

"No, Master. I haven't received any reports from him, but that's not unusual so far. His destination only became accessible a few days ago."

"Very well. You may withdraw."

"Master."

I think I will continue exploring the palace of this stubborn king of the bipedal Shapers. He seems TOO unconcerned, knowing that the black plague of shapeshifting half-creatures has been seen in his kingdom.

Grimrr crept back from his observation post in the throne room to the nearby rooftop windows. Outside, he watched the night guards of Aberon wandering through the city. The Werecat waited for a favorable moment to jump from the high windowsill to the nearest one. Once he reached the other end of the wall, he clung to the ivy he had climbed up and descended in his human form.

Arriving at the ground, he immediately transformed back into his four-legged form and sprinted towards the servants' entrance, which he knew was used at night and therefore open. Silently and with the natural grace of his race, Grimrr sneaked through the dark corridors of the palace. With his naturally dark fur, he blended seamlessly with the darkness in the dimly lit rooms.

"I need to report to the Master quickly, or I will be exposed to those disgusting creatures..."

The messenger, who had been with King Orrin just minutes ago, hurried through the palace as if running away from something, unaware that he had been noticed and followed by the dark Shapeshifter. As they passed through a double door, the air suddenly became stiflingly heavy, but Grimrr couldn't determine the source of this phenomenon. Just behind the door, a stone spiral staircase led to the palace's dungeons, and it became easier for the Werecat to hide as it seemed to grow even darker. Once downstairs, Grimrr observed as the messenger effortlessly pushed open a pitch-black iron door and disappeared behind it. He was about to follow when he heard a bright and piercing voice that made even the fearless and ancient Werecat's fur stand on end.

"You're late, Milan."

"Forgive me, Master, but the foolish king wanted a report."

"He may be foolish, but he also provides us with a safe haven. Tell me, Milan, how are my children?"

"Excellent. Today's 'aptitude test' did them good. They have been greatly strengthened and are now resting in their quarters."

"I'm glad to hear that. It wouldn't go well for you if any more of my children were to meet their end."

"You don't need to worry about that, Master. The last victims were over a moon cycle ago, and the assassins have not been seen anywhere since."

"I thank you, Milan. I will continue to entrust my children to you. From now on, you don't need to come here regularly, but only report to me when there is something worth reporting. You may leave."

"Thank you for your trust, Master. I will retire now."

"Oh, one more thing, Milan. Do you know when I can finally quench my thirst?"

"I'm sorry, Master, but I haven't received any message from them yet."

"Very well, you may go now."

As quickly as Grimrr could, he sprinted back up the spiral staircase and concealed himself behind a large tapestry.

The stubborn bipedal king of the has some very strange creatures living under his roof. I believe I need to pay a visit to this 'quarters' and the dungeon outside the city.

With these thoughts, the curious Werecat disappeared into the darkness.

"Here, there are no bipeds or Ra'zac in sight, Murtagh. We've been searching these abandoned islands for three days now. The journey here was long enough, and now we've been here three times as long!"

"Don't worry, Dorn. After we scout Illium, we'll head to Surda and meet our furry friend there."

Murtagh and Dorn had set out to the southern islands west of Surda to track down the Ra'zac. However, they hadn't found any signs of them on any of the islands so far. The red giant was ready to give up the search, as investigating empty patches of land seemed utterly pointless to him. But Murtagh sensed a peculiar presence on the island of Illium. It was the southwesternmost known island in Alagaësia, and the Rider believed it had never been inhabited due to the lack of resources and wildlife necessary for survival. However, the strange presence he had felt indicated that something should be found here after all. Thus, the grumpy Dorn was persuaded to take a closer look at the small island.

"Doesn't this hill seem peculiar to you, Dorn?"

"Indeed. This hill hasn't formed naturally."

Indeed, this hill, which was the highest on the island, had the shape of a giant round shield. Dorn circled several times over this unnaturally appearing hill to examine it more closely. It had a nearly round, flat surface overall, and the small rocks on this surface gave it the appearance of a very menacing, spike-studded shield.

"I feel like I've seen this structure somewhere before, but I can't remember where."

"Perhaps in some book, since you bipeds always have to write everything down to remember many things without the risk of forgetting them."

"Don't be so condescending, Big One. You don't know everything either, and you can't remember everything either!"

With these and further jabs, Dorn decreased the flight altitude as he spotted what seemed like a cave entrance in the hill. However, the Red Dragon regretted this decision the moment he fully grasped the size of the entrance. Once again, he had to send his Rider alone to explore unknown territory.

At least this weird-round-spiky hill isn't particularly large.

After ten endlessly long minutes for Dorn, Murtagh reached a chamber inside the structure. He intensified the magically conjured light sphere to illuminate the entire chamber. But what he discovered took his breath away: A large altar made of bones loomed at the back of the chamber on a stone pedestal. Upon closer inspection, the Rider noticed fine markings on the outer wall of the pedestal that resembled some form of writing.

"Do these symbols look familiar to you, Dorn? I've never seen them before."

"If you've never seen them, how am I supposed to recognize them, pray tell?"

For now, Murtagh decided not to respond to his dragon's sarcastic remark and examined the bone altar, which was the size of two grown humans. However, as he decided to shift his attention to the rest of the room, he felt that strange presence again, the one he had noticed in the morning. Barely had he extended his mental senses when consciousness slipped away from him.

Dorn, witnessing the events through his Rider's eyes, roared with blazing anger.