Recent content by The Night Court

Gregory bowed deeply, absorbing the weight of Marcus’ words. The invitation was unexpected, yet the lack of emotion behind it was even more so. He had expected some flicker of intrigue or satisfaction—some indication of the King’s inner thoughts—but Marcus remained as composed as ever, his...

Gregory bowed deeply, absorbing the weight of Harrul’s words like a nail driven into steel. The king’s stance was clear—unyielding, sharp-edged, and dangerous to any who dared press too hard. The Red Mage did not flinch, nor did he rise to the bait. He knew his place, and he knew that in this...

Agatha barely remained upright, her body battered, her magic drained, but her spirit unbroken. The rain continued to fall, washing away the embers of destruction, though it did little to ease the ache in her bones. She had fought with everything she had, and yet, it had not been enough...

Caiden stood over the fallen troll, his blade dripping with the thick, blackened blood of the beast. His men roared in triumph, their bloodlust only heightened by the sight of their leader felling such a monstrous foe. But Caiden barely acknowledged their cheers—his mind was already on the next...

As the hobgoblin tribes poured in from the mountains and valleys, their war cries echoed across the battlefield. With them came their champions—battle-hardened warriors meant to turn the tide—and massive trolls, their hulking forms towering over the chaos. But as the monstrous reinforcements...

Nepheli stood firm at the helm, watching as the hobgoblins, in a last act of desperation, sent their smaller ships crashing into the Espadian vessels, attempting to force them into chaotic collisions. The maneuver was reckless, but she had anticipated their desperation. “Adjust course! Let them...

The southern border of Ali trembled under the weight of the advancing Night Court. The sky darkened as if in omen, the sun veiled by the looming presence of an army unlike any the hobgoblins had faced before. Vampires clad in crimson and black, ghouls with gnashing teeth and hollow eyes, red...

Caiden’s grin widened as he laid eyes on the hobgoblin tribesmen, their hulking forms and fierce war cries marking them as a greater challenge than the rabble they had just cut through. His blood-bound cultists, already drenched in the carnage of battle, let out guttural cheers of their own...

As the Alurmanat xebec ships retaliated, their sleek vessels darting into position to counter the Espadian assault, Lady Nepheli stood firm at the helm of her flagship. Her eyes gleamed with determination as she observed the chaos on the waves. The smaller, agile ships of the hobgoblins...

Caiden’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the battlefield, the chaos of war playing out before him. The Alurmanat forces were locked in battle on both fronts—hobgoblin soldiers clashing with Espadian forces on land while their xebec ships engaged Espada’s navy at sea. The scent of blood and smoke...

Celeste slipped through the labyrinthine corridors of the palace, her steps light and deliberate. The air was thick with tension, the echoes of the council meeting reverberating through the stone walls. She had watched from the shadows as Verrent sowed the seeds of distrust, and now the nobles...

Bartholomew sat alone in the dim light of a flickering candle, his mind racing with the intricate plans that would soon take shape across the city of Adala. The council’s indecision was no surprise to him; their faith was too deeply rooted in tradition, their skepticism too entrenched to yield...

Under the King’s command, Agatha, Celeste, and Ahmad rallied their forces and rode to the south, their banners casting long shadows under the moonlit sky. Each leader carried with them the weight of Marcus’ will, and with their combined might, they would bring the wrath of the Night Court to any...

On the King’s command, Caiden, the enigmatic leader of the blood-bound cultists, set forth to the west with his devoted followers. Their crimson banners fluttered in the wind, an ominous symbol of their loyalty to Marcus and the unrelenting force they represented. The cultists moved with eerie...

Bartholomew stood in the vestibule of the Great Basilica, his hands clasped before him as he gazed at the intricate carvings of Adala’s gods on the temple walls. The faint murmur of the council’s deliberation echoed from the chamber beyond, their voices low but tense. They debated whether to...