CAIUS: Crown of Threads and Shadows

The journey from the border to the heart of the Shattered Steppes only deepened the dark elves’ growing sense of unease. Instead of riding through a scarred wasteland overrun by wild, chaotic warbands, the caravan traveled along broad, paved stone roads.

When the Black Granite Citadel finally rose into view, resting against the imposing Black Iron Hills, Old Bones found himself genuinely speechless.

Sprawling around the base of the mountain fortress was a vast city enclosed by massive stone walls. As the heavy iron gates swung open, Old Bones expected to see filth, infighting, and the mindless brutality typical of Orc encampments. Instead, he was met with total, terrifying order.

Patrols of the Black Obsidian Legion marched through the wide avenues in perfect formation, their forehead beads glowing softly as they maintained absolute peace. In the bustling commercial district, trading stalls lined the paved streets. Merchants hawked goods from across the continent, and to Old Bones’s complete astonishment, the population was a functioning mix of Orcs, human border traders, and even several stout, heavily bearded Dwarves haggling over iron shipments.

Old Bones sneered instinctively at the sight of the stubby, stone-brained creatures, for dark elves held a deep, ancient contempt for subterranean metal-workers, but he could not deny the sheer absurdity of seeing them trade peacefully alongside Orcs.

”This isn’t a war camp,” one of the dark elf trackers muttered in disbelief. ”It’s a capital.”

Old Bones said nothing, his sharp eyes taking in every fortified tower and heavily guarded storehouse as Krag’gath’s cohort ushered the caravan up the long, winding stairwell leading into the main fortress.

The heavy doors of the central grand hall swung open with a deep, echoing boom.

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Old Bones stepped through, his boots clicking against the polished obsidian floor. At the far end of the immense chamber, resting upon a raised stone dais, sat Caius Macrae.

A broad, genuine smile broke across the young Sovereign’s face as he looked down at his former mentor. ”Welcome, Old Bones. Welcome to my humble abode.”

Old Bones opened his mouth to deliver a raspy, sarcastic insult, but the words froze in his throat. His eyes widened, his jaw dropping in sheer, uncharacteristic shock as he processed the terrifying scene before him.

Lazily stretched out across the steps of the dais was a massive, shadowy tiger, its dark fur rippling with violet electricity and its four-foot ivory tusks crackling with kinetic energy. To the left of the throne stood a towering, terrifying demon encased in obsidian skin that cracked with orange magma, dark fire roaring softly around its curved horns.

And to the right stood a lethal, humanoid figure encased in jet-black armor. Four blade-like chitinous spider-arms flexed from her back, and two curved shadow-swords hung at her waist, dripping with corrosive venom.

Old Bones knew Arachne lore better than almost anyone in House Vel’drin. In the deepest dark elf tunnels, the ancient Arachne Queen Mothers possessed humanoid upper torsos, but their lower halves were always massive, grotesque spider bodies. Yet the creature standing beside Caius was entirely humanoid, representing a refined, perfect, and infinitely more lethal evolution of the species.

Beyond the towering summons, a suffocating, oppressive weight settled heavily over the entire hall. Old Bones couldn’t identify the origin of that terrifying aura, entirely unaware that it stemmed from the Crown Core, Caius’s absolute deepest and most guarded secret. The old assassin simply felt the unfathomable, crushing power radiating from the young man sitting casually on the throne, a force so profound it made his instincts scream.

Old Bones finally swallowed hard, forcing his jaw shut before pointing an accusatory finger at the teenager. ”Brat... you mean to tell me you hid all of this for two years while sitting right under our noses at the clan?”

Caius laughed softly, the sound light and completely devoid of malice as he leaned back against his throne, keeping his secrets buried deep within.

”Old Bones,” Caius said smoothly, deliberately shifting the topic with an amused glint in his pale eyes. ”I’ve already prepared the prime spot in the upper trade district for you to set up your tavern. Built in the finest dark elf Nyx’ari style, just as you like it.”