The burning carcass of the Spurned Progeny gave one last convulsion before collapsing into itself. The heat in Upper Calrath was suffocating, yet Heilay stood still. Her flail dripped with ash and blood; the shield at her side, scorched but unbroken. She spoke no words. Her gaze lingered on the smoldering remains of the beast, then turned away. The next threat awaited below, hidden in the bones of this cursed city.
Upper Calrath was more than ruined—it was warped, hollowed, broken. The buildings creaked under the weight of their own guilt. Black smoke rose from once-lived-in homes now overrun by madness. Heilay moved slowly through the tight alleyways, deliberate in her every step. Her crossbow rested on her back, ready. Thoughts remained unspoken, as always. Words served no purpose here. It was her resolve that spoke.
She slipped between burnt-out carriages and the crumpled remains of old soldiers. Flames licked through shattered doors, and the ground beneath her boots groaned with every step. From the fog ahead emerged a silhouette—perhaps a survivor? But as the figure drew close, she saw the twisted face, the twitching limbs—no life left, only rot. One clean swing of her flail silenced it. She didn’t flinch.
Darkness clung to every crack in the walls, and her lantern flickered. The path to the Sunless Skein was near—she could feel it. A shaft, half-hidden beneath debris, exhaled cold air like a tomb. She snuffed the lantern, tightened her grip on the shield, and stepped inside.
Below, the descent began. Calrath’s voices faded. The whispers of the deep grew louder. Still, Heilay did not pause.
Not because she knew no fear—
But because she knew it didn’t matter.
#LotF2023 #LordsOfTheFallen #Partisan #Heilay #UpperCalrath
Accompany the partisan Heilay on her journey: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQRPy70pDgKXsdb4gtFobn-vOZqhx2QGS
