(Anders' POV)
Anders' is sat on a log by the fire in the campsite they'd recently set up, intending to rest here for the night before setting out, he was mulling over his prepared incantations for this expedition.
'Quite the team Baron Licht has put together... three Tier 3s and one Tier 4. But with the matter at hand, this might not even be enough.' he sighs internally.
He had a set of round spectacles, he looked refined, wearing formal attire with a dark blue trenched suit jacked, a bowtie, and a silver pocketwatch that he checked frequently like a tic.
Lying on the log beside him was a fancy black cane with a large pristine sapphire encrusted in the handle.
Anders was of the Aristocrat class. His family are of nobility, forming of a lineage of Aristocrat's, folk who practice a strange magic that played with the minds of others and uses his own will to affect reality to an extent.
People say it's a hybrid of a Bard and a Psychic, but only Aristocrat's know it's true nature.
'We should be near where the Harbinger was spotted. I can already sense lingering crypt energy in the air, it's disgusting. We need to be prepared.' He thinks to himself.
They were sent here on a mission to search for a Harbinger or evidence of a crypt. Harbinger's are strange entities that are deeply connected to crypts, they rarely appear and have erratic, unstable personalities.
Whenever they appear, it is sure that a minimum of a Master-class crypt has appeared on this plane. Master Crypts if left alone could build enough power to destroy an entire Region. And that, is simply something that can't go unattended.
Crypts are cracks in reality, instances from the underworld where death reigns supreme. They take many forms, a Lich's lair, abandoned prisons full of vengeful spirits, demonic wastes, they're different every time.
There's 8 classes of Crypts: Novice, Apprentice, Adeptus, Expert, Master, Legend, Ancient, and Nightmare.
"I hate this place Garrick. Of all places we could be sent, we're sent to a frontier zone, searching for whatever one of those hooded freaks opened. I swear I'm not taking another mission from Baron Licht again after we're done here!" A girl says from across the campfire pacing back and forth frowning.
She had silver hair and wore a deep green robe trimmed with gold, the fabric layered and tied with a wide golden sash at her waist. Long, draping sleeves revealed flashes of gold beneath, and the beaded neckline shimmered with tiny hints of emerald and blue.
On her back was a long silver staff with a small golden bell attached to the end, surprisingly, it didn't make a sound despite her erratic movements.
The target of her complaint was on a nearby rock, he was a 6 foot 8", well-built man with a stern look on his grizzled face. Beside him is a full set of heavy plate mail, and a shield just as tall as he is.
He's maintaining his large claymore, wiping with rhythmic motion.
"Freyja, there's no use complaining. None of us like it here. What were doing here is safeguarding the people of Kynesfall and surrounding towns." Garrick said.
Anders then interjects, closing his grimoire shut, it floats over and places itself neatly in his pack, "Garrick's correct. If the Harbinger has been sighted, there's no doubt it was here for something. Plus, the pay is good enough to warrant my presence, we knew what we were signing up for." He says, adjusting his glasses.
Freyja sighs, sitting down on a log next to the fire, "I know! I know! Can't you let a girl rant?"
She pouts, and rests her chin on her hands.
Anders shakes his head, "Where's Celiac? Is he already getting some shuteye? Unlikely of him."
Garrick looks up from his sword, "No, he went out to scout the area. You know how paranoid he can be." he says.
"Yes. Well if its him he'll be fine, he has every right to be paranoid in this place so let him be, I'm sure he'll be back soon." Anders replies.
*rustle*
As soon as Anders' said that a serious looking man comes out from the bushes behind Freyja.
"AAH!" She screams, jumping out of her skin and grabbing her staff. Before sighing in relief.
She then puffs up her face, and yells "Celiac! For the love of all that's holy could you not appear from the bushes, why were you-"
He glares at Freyja, leaving her deadpanned, "Shut up." Then looks over at Anders, "I've found something, large amounts of Crypt energy over at a ruined temple, it sent my Danger Sense haywire, I ran back before going any further."
Celiac has dark skin and long black hair tied back into a manbun, he is equipped head to toe in tight black leather armor, he has 2 knives on his hip and a bow over his chest.
He was a Tier 3 Shade Hunter, a variant Hunter who used the power of darkness to enhance his stealth and summon his familiars to aid in reconnaissance and combat.
Freyja looks disgruntled, but at the mention of crypt energy she wiped her face of any emotion, looking as serious as the others.
Garrick starts to equip his polished plate mail without a word, face like a rock.
He's the stalwart tank of the group. A Tier 3 Guardian, who follows the path of rage, which surprises most people.
Anders furrows his brow, clasping his hands together, "Not good. No way were resting next to that thing. Let's move to investigate, this is probably what the Harbinger was here for."
He grabs his can and stands up, the pack's strap hooks itself over his shoulder.
Anders taps the ground with his cane, there's a blue shimmer in his eyes as he commands the campfire, "Extinguish."
*Whoosh*
Like that, there's no more flame.
"Freyja, light the way. Celiac will take the lead. Garrick, stay close to Celiac and be on your guard."
"Luminus!" Freyja chants, the bell on her staff rings twice, summoning a bright ball of light that hovers close by them.
As a Tier 3 Priestess who walks the Path of the Bell, she has authority over light and healing magic, all stemming from the bell on her staff.
Garrick just nods and follows Celiac, who doesn't even bother to respond before cutting a way through the bushes for the party.
Celiac leads the group through the forest with, summoning two small shade wolf familiars to follow his trail back to the ruined temple.
Anders' frown deepened as they neared their destination the red and yellow surroundings stopped being so yellow, and the red became more pronounced, darker.
'You can taste the thickness of the air here, it's probably best we don't linger after checking it out.' He thought.
Celiac stops and crouches down at a tree, putting his hand up to halt the group.
He inspects the bark of the tree, he noticed a large claw mark which by itself wouldn't warrant too much concern, what concerned him was the fact the tree was dissolving around the claws imprint.
'No, it's not dissolving, it's decomposing.' he realized.
"We've got a necrotic beast on our hands." Celiac's face was grave.
Freyja grimaced, "Fuck... what luck."
Necrotic beasts were at least Tier 4.
"And looking at the size of this mark, its a big one. I'm fearing it might be late Tier 4 strength, possibly a pseudo Tier 5, what's worse is that it seems to be alone." Celiac added.
Anders' nods, "If it's alone, we can be sure it's a strong one. For a crypt keeper to be alone isn't often heard of."
Keepers of the crypt are usually a group of monsters that are the weakest in the whole crypt. There to be an entry barrier to those who can't handle it. But in Master class crypts or above, that rule isn't so fixed.
Usually a single Tier 4 wasn't a problem for a group of Level 3s and a Level 4. It was their bread and butter enemy.
Anders strokes his bearded chin, 'If it wasn't necrotic there'd be no issue. But these are considered pseudo Tier 5 monsters due to their potent necrotic afflictions, one tiny scratch on your arm and you can kiss it goodbye. And with Garrick up front-'
Garrick approaches Anders and pats his shoulder, "Don't think about it too much. This isn't my first time going toe to toe with a necrotic beast, I can handle myself." he says, as if he know what Anders' was thinking.
Anders scans Garrick, sensing some confidence to his words, he sighs, "Ok then. Let's prepare our-"
His words were cut short at the sudden sound of colliding trees and crunching branches stuns them, Celiac's words tear through the dark space like a whip.
"GET OUT OF THE WAY!"
The warning was given in panic - something Anders didn't expect to come from the Shade Hunter's character.
But the forest made it clear why moments later, the trees weren't just shaking but exploding from sheer force, collapsing as a hulking mass of rot and muscle crashed toward them. The revolting stench of rotting corpses and death made him sick to his stomach, wrapping itself around their throats, choking the air out of them.
The Necrotic Twin-Headed Wolf.