June; 6 months after The Start of The End

Dull metallic paint surrounded The Golden Stag, darkened through time and use. The Court of the Lion was packed as always, eyes watching from every corner of the room. Warm light flooded the space, and hushed tones could be heard all around. Guards stood around the court in regular intervals, clad in worn tactical gear and helms of rusted brass. Every contingent and faction of god and man gazed upon him; Crusaders, liberators, revolutionaries, agents of governments far from here. Collaborators and worshipers of every pantheon to exist, believers in every philosophy that survived. The Stag held his head high as he was led in by his captors, who had stopped shoving him as he entered the Court. None were foolish enough to try to escape.

At the end of the great hall, a tall figure stood in council with his guards. Before them was a massive table, covered in maps and small figures; manila folders sat stacked up for review, and an untouched mug of coffee grew cold on a corner.

“Hope I’m not interrupting your DnD campaign.” The Stag stopped in front of the table and stared straight at the figure, ignoring the others around them. The figure was dressed similarly to his guards, however his clothing glittered with metallic thread. He wore no helm, instead having long blond hair which curled around his face like a lion’s mane. The man glanced up, looking The Stag directly in the eyes. The Nemean Lion. King of Terrorists, friend to all factions. The Lion regarded him in silence for a moment, then reached over to pick up the long cold coffee.

“Luckily you arrived just before we reached the Gelatinous Cube.” The Lion took a sip of his coffee, keeping his eyes locked on The Stag.

“You’ll pardon me if I hope the encounter is a Total Party Kill.”

The Lion smirked a little, then waved off the guards that stood behind The Stag.

“I understand you’re looking for information” The Lion said “Information on what’s left of your people.”

“A people you helped to destroy”

“I couldn’t stop what happened to your home.” The Lion sighed “No one could.”

“I don’t need anything from you.” The Stag broke eye contact, and looked down at the maps around him. Various forces and factions were labeled throughout the region, and a variety of figurines stood along the borders.

“Looks like we weren’t the last stop for you, you’ve been busy.”

The Lion put down his cup and stood up straight, regarding The Stag with a cold gaze. “Two days ago a group of Crusaders decided to take a trip into your realm. For what, I have no clue. Those spreading the good word don’t typically turn up on my doorstep unless they need a little help with souls that don’t want to be saved. As with most groups who entered they didn’t come out. Save for one.”

“The Dead Woods are dangerous.” The Stag responded dispassionately

“No monsters killed these men.” The Lion rapidly snapped back. “Unless they’ve taken the practice of filling their victims with silver arrows.”

The Stags eyes snapped up from the table at the news, meeting The Lion’s. Only one force was known for those weapons, a force that had vanished months ago.

“Why are you telling me this?” The Stag asked cautiously

“Deaths and disappearances are bad for business.” The Lion reached for his coffee but stopped, his hand hovering over the mug. He sighed, then looked at The Stag. His eyes echoed Liber’s weariness; both knew something he didn’t.

“I don’t take sides in any of this mess.” The Lion’s voice was filled with exhaustion “I provide a service, and I’m good at it. I leave the politics to everyone else. Something’s changed in those woods recently. Strange figures. Voices in the dark. Something brewing, something dangerous. Can’t help but wonder if that danger is my own fault.”

The Lion straightened up, and picked up the mug.

“You want answers; seems going home is your best bet.”

The Stag looked down at the map and spotted the remains of his realm. The space was conspicuously empty; no figurines stood within or near, no labels of factions or people. It was an empty space in a sea of movement. Much had changed on the rest of the map, hastily marked in a scribbling of red lines; borders had shifted, kingdoms had vanished. At the edge of the table he saw a cluster of figurines removed from the map; a stag was among them. He picked the stag up and looked at it for a moment, before placing it upon the Dead Woods.

“From here on out, The Woods are forbidden.” The Stag stated solemnly, looking up at The Lion “Any entrance will be treated as a declaration of war.”

“That’s an idle threat coming from a kingdom without a people.”

“The blade of a ghost can still bite, and a King still sits on its throne.”

The Stag turned to walk away, and felt The Lion grab his arm suddenly. The Stag looked back to see an expression of concern on The Lion’s face.

“Be careful in those woods.” The Lion said ominously “This game is far larger than any one realm. Someone is working behind the scenes, and I expect there’s far more than one man behind that curtain. Watch your step and your back.”

The Stag nodded, and The Lion released his arm. The Stag turned and looked around the room, taking in the many figures gathered. Conversations flooded throughout the space, and it was impossible to tell who had been listening. The Stag gathered his composure, then walked swiftly out of the hall and into the night beyond.

AUTHORS NOTE:

As the number of factions seeking power around the world has increased, so too have those who have sought to profit off of them. Private armies and mercenaries were never uncommon, but The Start of The End has made them rather commonplace. Most regions have numerous independent forces who can be bought for the right price, ranging in size from small elite squads to national-scale militaries. The Nemean Lion is the head of one such force, and is known for working with no questions asked. His “court” is one of the several truly neutral territories of the region, as most other territories have hired his services at one point or another. The only side he and his troops take is that of the contract they have signed in that moment. They can be distinguished from partisan and national forces in the region by the golden coloration of their uniforms, with The Nemean Lion himself keeping his uniform shining and spotless as a show of strength. The gold they wear signifies the ultimate power they answer to, as well as the wealth and strength it has brought them.

Episode 4 takes place 3 months after The Start of The End.