"A kingdom to infiltrate."
Rhys's words, spoken with the casual enthusiasm of a man deciding on a vacation spot, settled over his four apostles. The effect was immediate and profound, a stone dropped into four very different pools of water.
Elara's reaction was visceral. A low, hungry growl rumbled in her chest, and her golden, bladed wings flared, catching the light with a sharp shing. Her green eyes burned with the fire of a zealot who has just been handed a torch.
"Yes," she hissed, her voice thrumming with savage joy. "A kingdom. A hive of ignorance and decay. Mortals clinging to their fading world, blind to the coming of their true god. We shall descend upon them like a cleansing fire!"
Beside her, Liora flinched. While her devotion was absolute, it was tempered by a sense of honor and duty. "My Lord," she began, her tone cautious, "to reveal your existence to a populace… it would be an event of unimaginable gravity. We must tread with care. A show of force could be mistaken for tyranny."
Theia, ever the scholar, looked at it from a different perspective entirely. A slow, knowing smile touched her lips. She made a single note in her tome with her raven-quill.
The Age of Seclusion has ended. The Age of Revelation is to begin.
Vesper, as always, was silent. Her face was a placid mask, but her dark eyes were sharp, analytical. Elara and Liora debated the theology of the mission. Vesper was waiting for the logistics.
Rhys clapped his hands, oblivious to the simmering theological debate. "Right then! Team meeting!" He strode back to his great throne of twilight wood and sat, leaning forward eagerly. The two smaller chairs for Liora and Theia materialized beside his, and they sat. Vesper and Elara remained standing, a sentinel of shadow and a beacon of wrath.
"Okay, here's problem number one," Rhys began, ticking a point off on his finger. "Our world map is, for lack of a better term, completely blank. A massive fog of war. We don't know what's out there, or even if there's an 'out there' left that hasn't been eaten by the big spooky erase function."
"I can search," Liora offered at once, her voice firm. "I am swift. I will fly a patrol pattern from the Sanctum until I find solid ground, or until the void claims me." Her dedication was absolute, her strategy heroic and suicidal.
"And I will go with you!" Elara added, pounding a fist into her palm. "My light can be seen from leagues away! I will be a living sun! Any kingdom that survives will see my coming!"
Rhys winced internally. Okay, so the Paladin and the Berserker's plan is to fly around randomly, one hoping to get lucky, the other acting as a giant "PLEASE SHOOT ME" sign. Great for aggro, terrible for reconnaissance.
"Noble," he said diplomatically. "And very… direct. But maybe not the most efficient method."
It was Vesper who finally spoke, her silken voice cutting cleanly through the others' zealous proposals.
"I can go where they cannot. I do not draw the eye of the void, nor of mortals," she stated simply. "A map is unnecessary. Give me the parameters of what you seek. I will find it."
Rhys's face split into a wide grin. "Exactly! This is why you need a rogue in the party! Brains over brawn!" He beamed at Vesper, earning a subtle glare from Elara and a look of confusion from Liora, who had no idea what a 'rogue' was, but understood the implication.
He stood from his throne and began to pace, warming to his subject. He was no longer just a dreamer; he was a Game Master laying out the conditions for the next adventure module.
"Alright, Vesper, here's what I'm looking for in a target kingdom. Pay attention, this is important."
He began to list his criteria. "First, political instability. We need a weak ruler. An aging king, a contested succession, a decadent noble council… anything that makes the whole structure rickety. Stable kingdoms are boring. There are no plot hooks."
Seek a realm where the foundation is fractured, wrote Theia, her quill flying, where the crown is a weight too heavy for the brow that bears it, for it is in the cracks of worldly power that divine will finds its purchase.
"Second," Rhys continued, "a clear and present external threat. I'm talking barbarian hordes on the border, a newly awakened ancient evil, a rival kingdom getting ready to invade. Something that creates tension and gives us a clear pool of quests to draw from. A ticking clock is always great for narrative momentum."
Find a people who stand upon the precipice, their backs to a blade of imminent doom, the scripture flowed from Theia's pen. For only those who have stared into the abyss can truly appreciate the dawn.
"Third, there needs to be internal rot. A corrupt church, a thieves' guild that runs the city, maybe a secret cabal of nobles practicing forbidden magic. Faction gameplay is crucial for immersion. It gives us people to work with, and people to work against."
The land must be rife with hidden corruption, Theia inscribed, her expression one of utter concentration. Seek the high priest who serves only himself, the shadow that bargains in souls, the noble who sups with devils. I will bring light to their darkness.
"And lastly, this is non-negotiable," Rhys said, stopping to point a dramatic finger, "it has to have good dungeons. A forgotten crypt under the main cathedral, cursed elven ruins in the nearby forest, a deep dwarven mine that 'delved too deep'. I want lore. I want traps. I want boss fights."
And beneath it all, Theia concluded with a final, elegant flourish, there must lie a wound from a forgotten age, a tomb of ancient sorrow, a darkness that sleeps and dreams of ruin. For that is where the ultimate trial shall lie, and where my final judgment shall fall.
Rhys finished his speech, feeling quite pleased with himself. He'd laid out the perfect conditions for a fun, story-rich adventure. He turned back to his apostles. "Basically," he summed up cheerfully, "find me a kingdom that's an absolute, unsalvageable wreck. A real narrative dumpster fire. That's the kind of place a group of overpowered heroes can really make an impact in."
He beamed at them, expecting applause.
Instead, he was met with four pairs of eyes filled with tearful, bone-deep reverence. Liora, Elara, Theia, and Vesper looked at him, and at each other, their faces alight with a profound, holy understanding.
He wasn't looking for a playground.
He was looking for the most broken, desperate, and hopeless place in all of Somnastra. He was deliberately seeking out the people who were in the most pain, on the very brink of annihilation, so that he could extend his hand to them.
His mercy was truly boundless.
Vesper was the first to break the silence. She bowed her head, a gesture of profound acceptance.
"I will find this crucible of suffering for you, my Progenitor," she whispered, her voice laced with an emotion she had never known before.
And then, she stepped back into a wisp of shadow at the base of the throne and was gone.