KESM: Terra Quatuor Chronicles

"[ORIGINS; ARTHURIA....]"

Sabbath stared at the holographic screen floating steadily before him, his brows furrowed under tension as the once occasional glitch in its display became far too frequent. This was no mere coincidence; they were closing in on their mark. Beyond the screen, his eyes flicked elsewhere, taking in the view: a large swath of desert lay ahead.

He could only take a mental note of that oddity at the moment, though, his heart troubled — concentration spent reviewing the details of the information received from Ray a week prior. Even after discussing its content with the team, he was unable to get his mind off it.

Adjusting his vision back to the runes on the screen once more, it read:

[FIEND REGISTRY #481216D 

Subject: Draconian 

Species: C. drakonoides

Popular designation: Cumulodrake 

Origins: Arthuria….]

That last string of text seemed to bear the most weight. At least amongst the summary runes. Under those were further details: habitat, location, kill count — practically everything known about the species in general, and this particular subject.

It would be a hard-fought battle indeed, in no small part due to this Fiend's Origin: Arthuria.

The world was divided into Four immense continents, referred to as Kingdoms. Although, the term "Kingdom" was misleading. Each was a continent possessing its own autonomy — nations, cities, districts — existing separate from the others while still maintaining significant trade and interactions.

These were:

- The Kingdom of Knights, Everlance, located in the continent of Arthuria. 

- The Kingdom of Espers, New Intella, located in the continent of Severa. 

- The Kingdom of Samurai, Hinomoto, located in the continent of Kyoden. 

- The Kingdom of Mages, Mystlelane, located in the continent of Thalassor.

The term "Kingdom" was used to distinguish everything related to one continent — from the others. To an outside observer who didn't know better, they would assume each was a separate world entirely. They all had completely unique sets of laws that governed how things worked within their borders. This was the nature of all things indigenous to each Kingdom.

The challenge posed by the Cumulodrake — for Sabbath and his team, however, wasn't just the geography of Arthuria, but the very nature of its Fiends.

To grasp this concept one had to know the Kingdom of Knights.

Arthuria was the cradle of Knightdom, the heart of chivalry, and the forge of unyielding might. To understand Arthuria was to understand the essence of its helm of power, the capital city; Everlance, where the land itself seemed to echo the resounding clangour of steel on steel, and the air was thick with the scent of ancient oaths and ardor.

The continent stretched far and wide, its landscape reflected its people — majestic, unbreakable, and regal. From rolling emerald meadows dotted with stone fortresses to jagged cliffs that descended into roaring seas. Arthuria's geography was both a haven and a crucible. The location of the team's last battle had been close to Arthurian territory, but not quite.

Knighthood was not merely a station in Everlance; it was the lifeblood of its society. From the lowest squire to the exalted Avalon — the pinnacle of knightly prowess — each rank bore its responsibilities, its honors, and its expectations. To the outsider, the hierarchy of Arthurian knighthood might seem rigid, but to those within, it was a path — one marked by trials as unyielding as the continent's cliffs and as rewarding as the view from their peaks.

Yet, Arthuria was not without its flaws, as any Kingdom. Beneath the grandeur lay shadows, remnants of conflicts fought both within and beyond its borders. Feuds among noble houses often simmered under the surface, threatening to erupt like the dormant volcanoes that dotted its southern ranges. And then, there were the Fiends — beasts that existed just as Humans, on all Continents. The Arthurian variety, embodying its unforgiving nature.

Arthurian Fiends, the titans of the wild.

Fiends born of Arthurian soil were colossal in stature and formidable in endurance, they were forces of nature, their very existence a challenge to all who crossed their path. It was said that to face an Arthurian Fiend was to wrestle with the land itself, an unrelenting opponent that neither faltered nor forgave.

The Cumulodrake, now target of Sabbath's team, was a prime example. A behemoth with scales that shimmered like storm clouds, its presence was a tempest incarnate. Each flap of its massive wings could summon gale winds, while its roar — a deafening symphony of thunder — heralded destruction.

More troubling, however, was its intellect. A predator's cunning was rare among Tier-2 Fiends, yet this one displayed a tactical mind that rivaled even some of the Trueborn — those of the First Tier. The tactical acumen of a predator who relished the hunt as much as the kill.

Not without precedent, yes, yet…. it made this mission one requiring utmost caution.

As Sabbath's gaze lingered on the screen, the grim promise of this mission bore down on him. To hunt a Fiend of Arthurian origin was to step into a battlefield where brute strength was required, lots of it. Even so, it was only half the equation. The other half? Strategy, preparation, and a resolve as unyielding as the land that birthed such monsters. It was a bit reassuring however, to have a native of Arthurian descent with him, not just a waif, but one of royal blood.

The desert ahead, though vast and seemingly lifeless, felt alive in its own way. This island — claimed by the Cumulodrake after its migration beyond Arthuria's borders — had been transformed. Its original inhabitants were wiped out in an instant, the ecosystem ravaged, this was now the Drake's home. 

If one could see the island now — the presence of perpetual gathering clouds — the calling card of Cumulodrakes, marked its territory.

Beneath its sands lay the bones of countless battles….victims, and its winds whispered the tales of challengers who had come before — none victorious. Sabbath could almost hear the echoes of their struggles, a haunting melody carried by the arid breeze.

"One play at a time." he muttered under his breath, his tone cold with resolve.

"Kin of giants, forged by storms?....Meet my wrath."

With those opening words, their transport dissolved into shimmering ether, with a mental command from Hayz. The bird of prey, majestic and ethereal, faded like a memory, leaving the team standing upon the desolate terrain.

They had made landfall.