These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.
Nataku leads us to a small cave, what I see within stuns me. The remaining survivors could not fill a tavern. Some look terrified, others look weary from battle, a few that are injured rest on makeshift cots. A familiar face shifts in one of them to face us.
And he one of his arms is missing?!
His bandages are slightly wet with his blood. The pain from the wound shows in his face but I realize there is something else there in his eyes, as if he has lost something important. Randal Dundragon swiftly moves to try to relieve him of any discomfort with healing magic. After doing what he can the priest moves about the cave to those who are in need of Pelor’s touch.
Listening to the tale of the attack on Red Larch hurts us heroes of the small town. Lithia’s face is a mask of sorrow while Balasar cannot lift his gaze from the floor. It takes all of the willpower I can muster to not let my tears fall. I must show strength to the others as he continues.
Those who could fought bravely and gave their lives but it was not enough. The cloaked figures assaulted them with spells as large birdlike men swooped from the fog. But none dared attacked the women and children. As soon as they were seen the assailants were quick to snatch them and vanish.
My heart stops as my thoughts go to Amara. As I scan the survivors for her it picks up speed, beating faster and faster with every face I see. Then my heart drops as I lay eyes on Hamon. Her father sits alone in the back of the cave, his knees pulled in close with his face buried in them.
I move over, placing my hand on his shoulder and promising to find her. Spooking the elf from his thoughts, he quickly looks up at the sound of my voice. With a voice full of desperation and fear he pleads with me to find Amara as he pulls at my armor.
My mind goes back to just over a ten day ago when I had left this place for Mirabar. His lovely daughter had hugged me tight and kissed me on the cheek for luck. Never once would I have ever thought I would feel the way I did as my faced warmed with a mix of embarrassment and joy as she smiled at me.
I promise Harmon that I will, not for the fact that I want to but for the fact that I owe both him and Amara. They were with the townsfolk who spoke up for me during my trial. Without them and the others I would have never found the courage to be who I am now, I would have never found the courage to stand up to Novak.
Looking back to Lothric I promise to avenge my friend. He nods his approval to the words I spoke to the tailor.
Most importantly, I promise myself that The Restless Hand nor The Bringers of Woe will never harm any who I care about ever again.