I do not own the world of Neotellus, this story only depicts the views of three main characters, Adrian, Bloodmoon and Shayha. Most characters are not my own, but some are of my own creation. Full credit is given to the original artists and creator of Neotellus and all of its original contents. All chapters are in 3rd person limited. There are mentions of homosexuality, sex, drugs, strong language, alcohol and gore. Read upon your own risk. Thank you.

AUTHORS NOTE: As of July 1st, 2019, this chapter has been revised, edited and updated. Various details and mistakes have been added, removed and fixed respectively. Thank you for reading :)

Chapter one is from the view of Bloodmoon.

Chapter One:

The vision started with distant thundering. Leaves rustling on nearby branches, shaking as birds threw themselves into the autumn air, screeching and squealing in surprise. The thundering came from an oak. The massive body quivering against the cooling air of the waning day. The mighty oaks bark had stripped away over the years. The bare skeleton trunk a gleaming, haunting white against the flourishing forest around it. After so many years the oak had grown weak, its roots withering and branches curling downward. It was evident that one day the oak would fall to the forest floor. Only to decay and become one with the earth. The evening it happened the ground shook. The forest moaned in despair as another of its beautiful trees had fallen. It did not go unnoticed by the forest's other inhabitants, for the village people too awaited the sorrowful day. A man and his daughter crouched around the tree, their eyes searching over the mighty trunk with both awe and melancholy. "Father," the daughter began, her black hair braided over her left shoulder, "Why did this happen?"

The man looked to his daughter who was no more than four years of age. Her eyes glistened a deep red. They were full of wonder and question, an innocence he longed to have in his own. He motioned her closer. Resting on one knee he had her sit on the other. Strong arms wrapped around the small child and the man sighed, his short-bearded chin scratching the top of her forehead. "Well, you see…" he began, his voice gruff, "This oak has lived for so, so long, sweet nose."

One of his gloved hands lifted and he held her cheek in his hand. The girl smiled sweetly, yet the sorrow in her eyes was unmistakable, she too could feel the aura of the forest pull on the strings of her emotions. The forest shared its sorrow with her. Like him the forest raised her as one of its own. But she was too young to understand the connection and the curiosity in her eyes had peaked. The man cleared his throat. She looked at him and behind his green eyes she could see his own soft pain. "But it was time for the oak to become one with the forest." He said.

The girl tilted her head, "But why? Wasn't it already part of the forest?"

He nodded, "Yes, in a way. But now you see it hugs the forest floor," his arm squeezed her softly and she giggled, "the dirt welcomes the humble branches of the oak and brings it in. The oak came from the dirt and it is now returning, to sleep forever. To finally be at peace and prepare itself for when it returns."

More wonder filled her red eyes, and her smile broke into a grin. She looked around and jumped from her father's knee, dancing around the tree. She would stumble and twirl and her laughter brought warmth to his heart. "But when, father?" she called, her laughter louder. "When will it come back?"

Standing, the man brushed the bits of dirt from his leggings and came to her side. He chuckled as she hugged his leg, looking at his face with thoughtful and loving eyes. Reaching down he picked her up and she snuggled into his chest. "I don't know, sweet nose, it will be a long time until it does. But when it does, you be here to help it grow, ok?"

He hugged her to his chest, and she giggled, "I'll never leave, papa! I'll be here to care for it. I promise!"

A chuckle rose from deep in his chest and he lifted his chin to the setting sun where they remained until little light remained between them and the branches of the trees.

"Papa," whispered the girl, as he carried her home.

He glanced down from under his brown bangs, his thick brows raised, "Yes, sweet nose?"

"I want to be just like you when I grow up."

He smiled widely and with great strength he resisted a joyous tear. "No," he began, serious at first, narrowing his eyes as his daughter looked to him in question. She seemed almost afraid.

"No, I want you to be you, my sweet nose. Because no one can be you, and you, my love, are perfect."

The scared expression had vanished, and she pushed herself up to hug him, arms wrapped around his neck. He chuckled and hugged her back. After a few moments she pulled away and rubbed her nose on his, giggling, "I love you papa!"

He looked into his child's eyes and a tear rolled from his own, "I love you too, sweet nose."

They rubbed noses once more and proceeded back home.

*THWUMP*

The sweet memory was rudely interrupted by the slamming of fists on a table. Blood flinched and her eyes snapped open, the visions from her memory gone and forgotten within seconds. Her lip curled and her red eyes glared to the north end of the table, where a small hunched man was snarling at someone opposite from him. Blood sighed, rolling her eyes and looking around the room she felt trapped in.

The room itself was tall and ancient, made of old gray and white stone brick. A warlords table took up a large portion of the room in the center. The table was oval, carved black wood encircling a large slab of white quartz held up by more wood made to be armored dragon legs. Against the brick walls were numerous yellow magic lanterns as well as flags and tapestries of different regions, kingdoms and cryptids. Cathedral like buttress's lined the walls in pairs, four pairs on either side, holding columns a few feet from either side of table to the walls. The columns were made of the same quartz of the table; however, the table had recently been repaired due to an unnecessary drunken brawl between two neighboring lords. Most of the matching black wood chairs remained safe after the brawl. The table was topped with various, untouched dishes of food and barrels of mead. Servants of the current king waited patiently, filling the tankards of guests while they argued over politics and war tactics. But due to the meeting precarious subject much of the food and drinks remained untouched.

The one that awoke Blood from her half slumber was Kardoff, the dwarven warlord from Faykrur Gura and proclaimed Hero of the Dreshtar Marshes. Faykrur Gura was a considerably large colony of dwarves living in the Northern mountainous regions of Neotellus. The Dreshtar Marshes, however, were less known as the covered only a few leagues of area just south of the mountains. They were uninhabitable save for the murky monsters that roamed the muddy landscape. No such hero could be found there. But due to an obscure claim that he had fought against a giant and won in the mud land, he had claimed the title for himself amongst his people. It wasn't so farfetched of a tale, but Blood knew there was more to his story than he'd let on. She glared at him from her seat, slumping back and grumbling. Kardoff was only four feet tall which was a near average for his race. Although, Blood found it amusing how he had to lean strategically on five thick pillows on his chair just to reach the table. Now, he was fully standing and pressed against the table on his chair, fists glued to the surface of the table, balled and ready to throw. His thick neck was strained, a vein bulging from the skin, pulsing furiously. His long, braided red beard hung stiffly from his jowls, brushing the table. He slammed his thick hands on the table like a small child throwing a tantrum. "Listen here, ya old, soft bellied, hornless ram! You don't know what yer talkin about! You don't know war like we do, ye hear me?" he spat at a man across the table.

The man opposite of Kardoff was Sicita, a chieftain of one of the southern human clans. The human clans were mostly known for their nomadic style to help the countries struggling in poverty. The man was tall, thin and sharp, his head bald and covered with a thin, turquoise hood. His face was meditated on calmness, but the insults back and forth with Kardoff had weighed heavily on him and his face was contorted in a vile frown. "How dare you talk to me in such a manner? Have you already forgotten the clan wars? The devastation nearly destroyed 16 factions!"

Kardoffs laughter bellowed. "Oh! You call that a war? It seems you have forgotten our war, the dwarven wars that nearly took down the entire continent!"

Sicita sat back and drummed his long nails on the table, grunting. "Spineless, thick headed, goblin bastard." He muttered.

Blood smirked as Kardoffs face went blank and he began cursing at Sicita in dwarvish, having heard him. Half of the table flinched. Blood glanced to a maid who was clearly disgusted by the amount of spit hitting the table from Kardoffs mouth. The arguing went on for another few minutes, before the man on the end of the table at the north end finally cleared his throat. The man was Tiberiq, the current human king of the largest kingdom in Neotellus. He had grown old, his face sagged, long white hair against a velvet and gold tunic. Although he still appeared strong, his once square features had dulled, and he mostly remained seated. Kardoff and Sicita sat back, Kardoff snatching up his tankard and drinking furiously. The few that occupied the table remained silent as Tiberiq began to speak. "This meetings purpose was not to being about old feuds and childish arguments." He glanced to Kardoff and Sicita.

"One of my generals came to me before this day, in hopes to gain what little information we have on the future. Not all of us have arrived here, in fact, we still are awaiting some of the most powerful beings here in Neotellus." Tiberiq glanced over to a small, quiet man to his left. The man was average in size, middle-aged and seemingly bland. A green and silver lined robe concealed him, dragging on the floor behind him. "Gustio, if you would please read off the attendance list of who all is here."

The man nodded, his eyes a blank green. He pulled a scroll from his robes and unraveled it, clearing his throat. He began with the names associated with thrones, which only included Helita, queen of the southern isles, tall, dark, gracious and perfect, and Adrian, king of Azeron and Blood's friend. A young, handsome and very nervous king. Next were the ranks of clans and their leaders, followed by ranks down in royal armies, and so forth, following secondary parties, those who swore thin allegiances to very few. The parties included mercenaries, vigilantes and the few nomadic loners, such as Tristan of Ritoyu, Jaquwer of Northen Yertui, and eventually Blood herself.

Once finished, Tiberiq asked the man to then begin to name those who had yet to arrive in the next few days. The order was the same and consisted of many humanoid beings rather than beasts. Some names, more than others, made some at the table uneasy. Many leaders in Neotellus had been invited to discuss the matter at hand, and each were terrifyingly powerful.

Another half hour passed and Blood had since grown tired and bored. It wasn't until Tiberiq directed a question to her that she snapped back into reality. Bloods pale cheeks turned rosy in embarrassment. "My apologies, my liege, what is it you'd have me answer?"

Tiberiq smiled softly at her, "Where are Elise and her sister, Niassa? There were to be here tonight. As I understand it, you are close to them."

His golden eyes radiated a curious and humble light, and her blush deepened. "Ah, Elise has since fallen ill these last few days. Niassa is helping mistress Sue tend to her. They send their apologies."

Blood dipped her head and Tiberiq responded in kind. "I see, do tell them I wish Elise a speedy recovery."

She nodded again and listened carefully as the meeting went on. Blood turned her head to Adrian, who sat stiff and sweating in his seat. His combed, brown hair laid flat and wet against his scalp and he glanced at her with worried, muddied eyes. A grin formed on Blood's lips, only worsening his nervousness. Adrian was new to his throne. His father had died a year before and he had taken his place as king. He felt as a whelp, cowering in the shadows of the great rulers around him. It made him nervous to know even more powerful people were coming, people that could destroy him and his kingdom in a heartbeat. Blood knew he was afraid of failure, but she also knew if he couldn't get a grip on his nervousness, he would be an even easier target. Even if everyone was supposed to be working together.

The night ended somewhat quickly after that. All bid one another a good night including Kardoff and Sicita with bitter resentment and the hall became hollow. Adrian and Blood walked with each other, groaning about the night's events and the days to come. Eventually they departed from one anothers company. Adrian sluggishly trailing off in a wet tunic, Blood giggling all the while. She walked around the western side of the castle until she found a very shaded hallway with a door propped open by a sickly glowing staff. A dim light protruded from the door. Inside were voices arguing over whether the tapestries on the walls were pleasant for patients or morticians. Blood peered in and smirked at the sight. Three women were in the room. One was lying on a bed, half of her face swollen from fainting and crashing onto the ground earlier that day. It was Elise. Her copper hair was pulled back and she was wrapped up in a blanket. She was leaning away from another older woman that was hovering over the bed arguing with her. Elise's sharp lips were curled in a vicious frown, her eyes glaring at the older woman attempting to touch her with an object Blood could not see. The old woman reached over and petted Elise's red hair with her other hand, saying something softly that only seemed to anger Elise more. They began arguing again. Soft giggling coming from a woman sitting in a chair at the other end of the Elise's bed. Blood sighed and stared at the woman sitting in the chair. Her long, thick, snake patterned coat having dipped down the chair to reveal slender shoulders. The tufts lining her coat ruffled as she adjusted in her seat, the chair creaking. Her midnight black hair was bobbed up on both sides, long, parted bangs falling over the woman's face. Her laughter continued and Blood smiled. She couldn't help but stare and unknowingly the staff began to cast her shadow into the room. Had it not been for the crow sitting atop a shelf in the room, Blood would not have noticed her hiding spot being revealed. The crow cooed softly and gazed at Blood with intense red eyes. Spotting the crow, she stood up straight and weaved her way between the staff and the door. Once inside, she glanced around the darkly lit room. Multiple shelves, beds and tables were pushed against the walls. The air was damp and musty. The room was more of a storage room than the small infirmary it was supposed to be. Boxes, crates and barrels crowded parts of the spaces between the beds and tables. Although, there was still enough room to maneuver without difficulty. The room did, however, have an eerie atmosphere due to the multiple pictures, tapestries and various small statues of darker creatures and gods. Attempting to remain undistracted by the morbid appearances of the room Blood cleared her throat. The three women looked to her. Elise pouted. The older woman grunted and turned away, her dark green robes dramatically whipping the air as she approached a readily available alchemy table. The woman in the chair smiled, velvet eyes dancing. Blood grinned at her and was motioned forward. She stood behind the woman in the chair and softly touched the woman's shoulders, fingers tracing. The woman giggled.

"So, I heard you two arguing. Sue, can't you try to make friends?" Blood said with a grin.

The older snorted, "Hush pup, or I'll give you a spoonful of mushroom broth just like I did to that one," she pointed a spoon at Elise, who in return blew a raspberry.

"How old are you?" the woman in the chair directed at Elise.

"Shut up Niassa, you do the same damn thing."

Niassa gapped, "I do not! Do I?"

Niassa looked back to Blood, who stared blankly and gave no response. Elise scoffed at her victory and laid her head back. "You're free to go now sister, I can handle myself."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Niassa chortled, Sue chuckling at her table, rolling a stick of cinnamon between her thin fingers.

Blood rolled her eyes and straightened out her tunic, letting Niassa get up and compose herself. She stretched, grabbing her coat and pulling it over her body, "I have been sitting down for hours!" Blood nodded and mouthed a 'me too'.

Niassa and Blood departed, bidding both Elise and Sue a good night, knowing the two would most likely assault one another than sleep. They leaned against one another as they made their way back to their room, hands clasped together. Niassa gave a short summary of her evening, which consisted of endless arguments between Elise and Sue as well as a failed attempt at knitting. Blood gave a quick overlook in return, but it ended on a more desperate note. As they finally came to their room a chill went up Bloods spine. She walked in, sitting on the end of the bed in front of her. Tired, she began to take off her boots, sighing. "We need more time, but we are limited. This two different parties plan also disturbs me. David doesn't understand the forest and he will most likely get himself killed. I don't know how well I'll handle the stress of escorting all these people."

Niassa had since disrobed through their conversation in their room, wrapping herself in her gown and a robe. She sat behind Blood and rubbed her shoulders. "You need to calm down; you are doing what you can. He is too blind to see it, and he will pay a price for it. I hope it isn't death, but it is what it is in the end. I know the things that trouble you, but it will be alright, love."

Blood smiled and turned her head, embracing in a passionate kiss with Niassa. As late as it was, the kiss began to pull them back and they rolled into the late night and its darkness. Their love was beyond passion and beyond words. Soon, fatigue grasped them both and they fell asleep in each other's arms. Their dreams were soft and sweet, as they always were when they were together. But as the night waned and the sun began to pour over the horizon, both were disturbed by a constant rapping on their bedroom door. Blood growled harshly, her sharp fangs animalistic as she barked at the door, "Go away!"

Niassa moaned, stirring, her body hot against Bloods. Both remained, tired and comfortable. Even as the rapping continued. "Should we get that?" Niassa mumbled, without opening her eyes. Blood snorted and buried her face under the pillows. "No. Fuck them. It's too early to deal with people."

They both laughed softly and faded back into sleep as the person on the other side of the door finally gave up, slipping a note under their door.