Chapter 2 - chapter 1:The Curse of Maltherak

In Eldridge, a fog-veiled village cradled between ancient whispering woods and golden rolling hills under perpetual harvest moons, Elias and Thorne shared a brotherhood forged in hardship, ale, and endless laughter. Elias, broad-shouldoned with sun-freckled skin and blacksmith's hands thickly callused from countless hours at the roaring forge, hammered iron into sturdy plows, practical horseshoes, and occasionally fine swords for wandering merchants seeking their fortune. His laughter boomed like summer thunder rolling across the valleys, perfectly matched by Thorne—his wiry, quick-witted companion who tilled the stubborn fields with bawdy tavern songs, wild embellished stories of lost treasures, and an unerring instinct for where the rich soil yielded its golden bounty. Their thatched cottage, with its crooked chimney forever belching comforting smoke and walls hung with dried herbs, stood as a warm beacon amid villagers who crossed themselves fearfully at every lengthening shadow and muttered hushed prayers to capricious old gods.One crisp autumn evening, as amber leaves crackled underfoot and ominous ravens wheeled in tight, shrieking circles overhead, the chieftain rode in imperiously on his massive black stallion, gold torc gleaming. His demand cut the air like a blade: a grand throne carved from the heartwood of the colossal Sacred Oak, whispered across generations to be the earthly tether of Maltherak, the Verdant Fury—antlered god of savage, untamed wilderness whose very name parents used to hush restless children to sleep. Elias, sweat beading on his furrowed brow beneath the dying sun, hefted his heavy axe with reluctant resolve. Dire omens screamed their warnings—ravens shrieking prophecies, crimson sap bleeding like fresh wounds from the ancient bark—but coin was perilously scarce that season, and loyalty to chieftain and kin ran bone-deep in Eldridge blood. As the mighty tree groaned its final, earth-shaking death rattle, roots wrenching free like desperate claws, the sky itself blackened with unnatural fury.A violent tempest erupted from utterly clear air, whipping thorns like barbed scimitars through flesh. Living shadows writhed with antlered menace. Maltherak materialized in towering colossus form—bark-fleshed horror with smoldering ember-eyes and a voice that cracked mountains asunder: "Mortal worm! You dare profane my sacred groves for a petty tyrant's gaudy seat? Become the beast whose kin you slaughter without mercy or remorse!" Elias collapsed to his knees screaming as his bones snapped and realigned with sickening cracks. Flesh erupted in coarse black bristles, shoulders broadening into a monstrous boar's frame, ivory tusks thrusting forth like jagged daggers from distended jaws. Red rage blinded his vision completely.The nightmare-boar rampaged through sleeping Eldridge, thatched roofs splintering like matchwood under two-ton charges; terrified villagers fled screaming as tusks rent flesh from bone in sprays of arterial crimson. Blood painted the mud black under frantic torchlight. Thorne barely escaped a lethal swipe, rolling desperately into stinking mud as twenty innocent souls lay mangled and steaming before the frenzy finally ebbed at midnight's toll.Dawn's pale, judgmental light wrenched Elias back to trembling human form, shivering naked amid the reeking carnage, hands slick with gore not his own. Maltherak's spectral echo lingered mocking on the wind: "Five shards of my shattered horn lie scattered across the five forsaken realms. Endure their brutal trials to reclaim them before dusk claims you eternally, or forever become the boar. Fail, and your savagery devours the world entire." Sobbing brokenly, Elias fled to the icy riverbank, vowing bitter exile. "Stay away, brother. I'm a killer now, cursed to kill again."From dense reeds emerged Lirael—lithe herbalist with raven hair artfully woven in wildflower braids, emerald eyes sharp as thorn-points. She'd hidden through the slaughter, glimpsing Elias's tormented human gaze flicker amid the beast's madness. "I saw your soul's desperate light, even in that crimson frenzy," she said firmly, offering a steaming draught of valerian root and moonroot elixir to soothe his violent tremors. "I've studied Maltherak's forbidden lore in dusty tomes. I'll brew powerful elixirs to ease the change's agony. We face this nightmare together." Thorne nodded fiercely, gripping his notched axe tight. Despite Elias's heartbroken protests—stirred deeply by Lirael's defiant beauty and unyielding courage—the trio forged their desperate pact under rising sun. Dawn fully broke as heavy packs were laden with provisions; northward they marched resolutely, the first shard's icy call echoing from distant Frostpeaks.