The 5 Houses of Helgarde

Aldwyn woke up to the sound of distant bells tolling, the light from the candle now just a smoldering wick. Despite his exhaustion, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

"My head is pounding...I should take it easy today. Get to know the guild members better or maybe go for a walk in the fresh air."

Aldwyn pushed himself up from the bed. He walked to the window, pushing the curtains aside to reveal the early dawn. The city of Helgarde was just waking up, the cobblestone streets gleaming with the remnants of the previous night's rain.

He threw on his cloak and made his way to the common room, where the scent of roasting meat and brewing coffee filled the air. The room was mostly empty, with only a few early risers gathered around the hearth, sharing tales of their recent missions and the whispers of the city's darker secrets.

Aldwyn looked around. „I wonder if the members here also follow certain paths... If so, it's probably the warrior's path."

He grabbed a mug of coffee, the aroma strong and bitter, and sat down at a table, his thoughts swirling like the mist outside.

„I should also start to think about the exact way to master the Stage 1 Assassin... All I've done so far wasn't exactly assassin-like."

One of the guild members, a burly man named Gustav, slapped him on the back. "Looks like you had quite the night," he said, his smile filled with camaraderie.

Gustav was a man of few words, but his actions spoke louder than any boast. His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, held the wisdom of a thousand battles. His beard was a wild, untamed thicket of red hair, and his arms were as thick as tree trunks. He bore the scars of his past with pride, each one a story of survival etched into his flesh.

"Thanks," Aldwyn muttered, taking a sip of the coffee, the heat searing his throat. "It was...enlightening."

Gustav's smile faded, recognizing the gravity in his tone. "Troubles with the job?"

Aldwyn nodded, his eyes distant. "More than I bargained for."

Gustav's expression grew serious, his hand resting on the pommel of his greatsword. "You know where to find me if you need a hand," he said before rising from his chair. "But for now, I've got a job to take care of."

Aldwyn watched him leave, „This guild is really useful, but I shouldn't accept any help until I understand what I have to do as an Assassin."

„When I think about it, my decision to join this guild was stupid... It's considered to be an honorable and supportive guild, exactly the opposite of an Assassin."

„Sure, I can improve my skills here and earn good money, but will this really get me anywhere?" He thought to himself.

He finished drinking the rest of his coffee and stood up to go for a little walk in the fresh air.

This morning the sun was shining a bit and the weather was pleasantly fresh. As he walked along the street, his eyes caught a paperboy standing at the side.

Aldwyn approached the young man and handed him two bronze coins. The boy accepted them gratefully and handed Aldwyn a newspaper.

The headline on the front page sent a jolt through him: "Leader of House Geeydu Found Dead." The article spoke of a gruesome discovery in the heart of the city's intellectual hub. The Leader had been found in his study, his body contorted in a way that suggested a painful and unnatural death.

„One of the leaders of the five ruling houses is dead?" Aldwyn was surprised by the news.

The article spoke of the growing tension between the wealthy and the poor in Helgarde. The murder of the scholar, who was known for his advocacy for the less fortunate, had only served to intensify the unrest. Protests had erupted in the poorer districts, with calls for justice and reform echoing through the cobblestone streets.

In the midst of this chaos, a discovery in the Forsaken Empire. A new path, dubbed the 'Dragon Path', had been uncovered by a group of intrepid explorers. The article detailed the discovery with an air of wonder, describing ancient ruins and artifacts that whispered of a forgotten civilization.

„Dragon path? I wonder what advantages it offers? Which god do you worship there anyway? Or do you pray to an ancient dragon? So many questions..." Aldwyn was fascinated by this discovery and immediately wrote it down in his little diary.

„Besides, I wonder where this Forsaken Empire is... As far as I know, that was the place where the gods and humans fought each other."

„All paths and their stages were also found there. All artifacts, weapons and information coming from the gods are from there. Just like the duskbringer..."

„Maybe I will be forced to travel there in the future... Since I'm missing stage 4 of the Assassin Path."

The streets grew more crowded as the day progressed, with merchants setting up their stalls and the cobblestone pathways coming alive with the cacophony of the city.

As Aldwyn approached the city square, he could hear the distant murmur of a gathering crowd. His keen ears picked up the unmistakable rhythm of angry voices and the stomping of feet. The air was charged with a tension that seemed to thicken with every step he took closer.

The square was a sea of makeshift banners, their once-bright fabrics now stained with the dirt of the streets and the grime of desperation. The people had gathered in a tight knot, their faces a mosaic of anger, fear, and hope. They chanted slogans that resonated through the air, demanding justice and retribution for the murdered scholar.

On the podium were the 4 remaining leaders of the city. Each of them represented a different house. House Valthorne, House Phainslill, The Church of the Silent Night and House Brarnsaiph.

The House of Phainslill was a bastion of honor, its crest a snarling wolf atop a field of crimson. Their warriors were renowned for their fierce loyalty and unparalleled skill in combat. They were the protectors of Helgarde, their swords and shields the city's first and last line of defense. Their members were often seen patrolling the streets.

Their leader, Lady Eilif, was a formidable woman whose beauty was matched only by her ferocity. With hair as fiery as the setting sun and eyes as sharp as the blades she wielded, she was a beacon of strength in a world of darkness. She had been born into her role, her lineage tracing back to the very founding of the house. Her father had been a legendary warrior, and she had been groomed from birth to take his place.

The Church of the Silent Night was a place of worship for those who believed in the power of silence and shadow. They were known for their monks, who communicated only through gestures and whispers. Their prayers were murmurs that danced on the edge of perception, their ceremonies shrouded in darkness and mystery. It was said that in the quietest moments of the night, when all other sounds had ceased, one could hear the collective whispers of their prayers, a chorus of silence that echoed through the very fabric of Helgarde.

Their leader, the High Confessor Elian, was a man of average height but with a presence that could fill the grandest of halls. His eyes were as black as the void, seemingly absorbing all light that dared to touch them. His skin was as pale as the moon, a stark contrast to the rich purple vestments that adorned his gaunt frame. His face was etched with lines of wisdom and age, and his voice, when he chose to use it, was like a soft yet powerful wind that could bend the wills of even the most steadfast of souls. It was rumored that he had once been a great warrior, but had found peace in the embrace of the Silent Night. Now, he wielded his faith like a weapon, a silent blade that could cut through the darkest of hearts.

House Brarnsaiph, on the other hand, was a bastion of creativity and innovation. Their emblem was a pair of golden hands cradling a fiery heart, symbolizing the warmth and passion that fueled their craft. The artisans and inventors who called this house their home were renowned across the Iconi Empire for their intricate designs and masterful creations. Their guilds produced everything from the finest silks and jewels to the most ingenious contraptions and weapons.

Their leader, Lord Charles Brarnsaiph, was a man of culture and refinement. With a sharp wit and a penchant for the dramatic, he was often seen at the city's theaters and galleries, patronizing the arts and encouraging the growth of the city's creative spirit. His dark hair, slicked back with a touch of wax, framed a face that was both handsome and cunning. His eyes, a piercing blue, missed nothing and his smile was as enigmatic as the puzzle boxes that were a hallmark of his house's craftsmen.

Rumors whispered that Lord Brarnsaiph had made a pact with a shadowy figure, one that allowed his house to flourish in the city's cutthroat political arena. This mysterious alliance had brought House Brarnsaiph immense wealth and power, allowing them to fund the most ambitious projects and acquire the rarest of artifacts. Yet, the true nature of this deal remained a closely guarded secret, known only to the highest echelons of his house.

The Leader of House Valthorne was a man named Deole Mitchell. He was a enigmatic figure, often seen with a stoic expression that could make the bravest of men quiver. His silver hair flowed down to his shoulders, and his piercing grey eyes held a depth that spoke of untold secrets and cunning strategies.

„This city is a democracy...each house had a leader and these five formed the council that ruled the city. But with the death of one of them, I wonder what will happen." Aldwyn couldn't help wondering about it.

As Aldwyn approached the podium, he noticed the tension between the leaders. Deole Mitchell, the leader of House Valthorne, was speaking in a calm but firm tone, trying to ease the anger of the crowd. "My dear citizens of Helgarde, we understand your pain and anger. The murder of Scholar Everett is a heinous crime that will not go unpunished. We are doing everything in our power to bring the culprits to justice."

Lady Eilif of House Phainslill stepped forward, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and determination. "We stand with you! Our warriors will not rest until the streets are safe and the guilty are brought to the sword!" The crowd roared in approval, the air vibrating with their collective passion.

„I wonder how powerful they are?" Aldwyn's thoughts drifted for a moment.

High Confessor Elian of the Church of the Silent Night raised a hand, and the crowd fell into an eerie silence. His voice, when it came, was soft yet commanding. "We too feel your pain. We have lost one of our own. But let us not let our grief cloud our judgment. We must seek truth and justice, not vengeance. The shadows shall not claim another soul." The monks in the crowd nodded solemnly, their silent agreement palpable.

Lord Charles Brarnsaiph stepped up, his smile replaced with a look of concern. "The safety of Helgarde's citizens is paramount. House Brarnsaiph will assist in any way we can. Our resources, our knowledge, all are at your disposal. We must stand united against this darkness that seeks to divide us." The artisans and inventors in the crowd nodded, their eyes alight with a determination to create tools to protect their city.

Aldwyn heard enough and slowly moved away from the square. „This whole affair is none of my business... I just hope my trips to the university district don't get exposed. Otherwise I'd probably be the first suspect."