#2

Alexander felt the weight of the hand firm on his shoulder, jolting him back from the edge of darkness. His vision blurred, his ears filled with the crackling of fire and the distant, intermittent shouts of those scrambling to save what they could from the inferno.

The figure that stood over him was a stout being, its green skin illuminated by the flickering fires of the destroyed camp. It wore a motley collection of armor, piecemeal and rugged, but it was the shield that caught Alexander's fading vision—a shield with stripes of royal purple and muted gold, an echo of nobility in the hands of a creature far from noble. "Hang on, fighter," the creature said in a gruff, coarse voice that grated on the ears like the rustle of dry leaves. As the kobold-like figure turned, the ornate shield on its arm clattered against the haft of its standard, a sound that, under different circumstances, might have seemed almost comforting.

Soon, another figure emerged from the smoke, smaller in stature but with a presence that was no less commanding. This new ally was garbed in an ensemble of pieced-together armor, the orange glow of battle-worn shields strapped to her arm. Her hair, a vibrant purple, was tied back to reveal determined eyes, and in her grip, a slender sword that gleamed with a sharpness that matched her gaze. She deftly retrieved a water skin from her belt that sloshed with the promise of water. The cool liquid touched Alexander's lips, bringing a painful relief as he coughed and spluttered, ash and soot expelled from his burning throat.

As the water revived him, his eyes adjusted to the dim light provided by the fires and the rising moon. The camp was a charred shadow of itself, the trees around singed, their leaves turned to black crisps. The bodies of his comrades were scattered grotesquely, a grim reminder of the ambush. Kobold arrows and crude spears jutted from the ground and the fallen alike, the metallic scent of blood mixing with the acrid smoke in a nauseating miasma.

The goblin helped him to sit up. "You were out for a while. Kobolds hit us hard, took us by surprise. Not many left," the goblin said, his voice carrying a murmur of desolation.

Alexander's mind raced. His troop had been targeted for obliteration; the kobolds had never dared to strike with such deadly precision before. "Why? Why us?" he rasped, taking another painful sip of water.

The goblin’s eye sockets seemed to deepen, the shadows within swirling with secret knowledge. "Not just any kobolds," he asserted. "Guided by a darker force. They've never organized like this on their own. Something, or someone, is giving them direction."

"Who? Who leads them?" Alexander’s voice was growing stronger with his burgeoning rage.

The goblin looked around, ensuring no prying ears were nearby. "A necromancer. One of considerable power and cruelty. Rumors say he seeks to conquer the lowlands, using the kobolds as his vanguard."

A necromancer. The word chilled Alexander’s already cold blood. He had heard tales of such beings – dark sorcerers who meddled with life and death, bending the will of the weak to serve them. That his friends had fallen victim to such evil fueled a vengeful fire within him.

"I must avenge my comrades," Alexander declared, his voice a hoarse whisper, but filled with determination.

The goblin nodded, the bones on his armor making a soft clattering noise. "I am Pariah Chaos Agent of the Horde, once a mere pawn in the grand games of warlords, now an instigator of pandemonium, a master of the unpredictable fray. I am the tempest that disquiets the silence, Pariah, Chaos Agent of the Horde. With wooden hammer in hand, I craft not with nails but with tumult. I will join your cause, Alexander. For I, too, crave the downfall of this necromancer, whose tyranny stifles the beautiful anarchy of nature itself.

Together, they devised a plan. Pariah would teach Alexander the ways of combating dark magic, and how to protect himself against the undead. They would start by tracking the kobold raiders back to their lair, believed to be fortified in the depths of the Hedge Wizard Wood.

The night grew deeper, and as the last flames died down, the two newly allied warriors prepared for the journey ahead. With each step towards the ominous woods, Alexander felt his resolve harden. The lore of Alexander, Dispatcher of Kobolds, was just beginning.

Entered by: 0x6f4D…0e6C and preserved on chain (see transaction)