Chapter 1

The Blackshield Tournament

Many valiant lives were claimed by the Blackfrost before our mightiest warriors banded together into a dedicated force to protect the village from this mind-breaking threat. The coming of the Oracle and the discovery of the Black Shard marked the beginning of a new era for Fenris, one where hope was not completely lost, even in the face of overwhelming darkness. After the Second Occurence, The Council agreed on the proposal unanimously, and thus, it was in this crucible of despair that the Blackshields were born.

Their purpose was twofold: to protect the village against this new threat, and to explore the world beyond in search of lost knowledge that could help them understand and defeat the Blackfrost.

And thus, the Blackshields began their quest for lost knowledge. Year after year, the Blackshields travelled the world to uncover prophecies, ancient wisdom and weapons of immense power. Before the Blackfrost cursed us again, at the same time every year like clockwork, they would return to Fenris with their findings, and newly recruited warriors from distant lands. Year after year, decade after decade, they went and returned, without pause.

Countless waves of Blackfrost crashed over Fenris in the century that followed the beginning of their great quest. It was not without casualties, but the strenght and knowledge they gathered proved pivotal in shaping our village into the fortress of defiance we now know. Yet again, something unexpected was about to unravel before our eyes.

On the day the 100th Blackfrost stampeded onto the village of Fenris, a very special occurence happened. A sun of the purest black rose up in the dark horizon, and the hardor of the evil that engulfed the village drastically increased in intensity. You do not survive more than a century of terror without gaining valuable experience and inhuman resilience. Yet the psychological and physical calamity the darkness brings with it could never be ignored, never be contained. It is still impossible to resist the fundamental fear and existential terror each of us suffers when its thick presence glazes our skin.

Despite the horrifying silence and dread blanketing the village once again, a mother’s suffering was heard in the streets of Fenris. As if forced out of the womb by the unholy disturbance, the newborn’s eyes were white as smoke, entirely devoid of any colors. His cries were silent, as his mother, now deprived of her life in exchange for his incarnation. For the first week of his life, he knew only darkness. A darkness like no other, not born of this world. A darkness as unnatural as the nightmares haunting everyone around him. The child was touched by the Blackfrost in ways we never understood, and it most certainly shaped his destiny. We named him Varek, and he was fated for greatness. Selected as a warrior of great potential at an early age, he was eventually bestowed the ancient and first ever forged Black Shield to mark his ascension as the Blackshields Captain.

His dedication throughout his life, his martial prowess, and tactical intelligence shaped the Blackshields into a force mightier than ever before. In a joint effort with the Runic craftsmanship of the Forgemaster of Fenris, a ritual was performed, binding the Black Shard to his soul, fixing it onto his shield, to greatly amplify its potency. To this day, Varek still bears the Black Shard wherever he goes, embodying hope for all. His mind, however, was darkening year by year. After a lifetime of hardship and dedication, he now stood on the cliffside overlooking the village, immobile, his thoughts inwards.

Varek’s eyes, once bright with the promise of greatness and the courage of youth, now bore the weight of all he had seen—the horrors of war, the screams of the dying, and the cold, empty gaze of those who had lost their sanity to the Blackfrost. He was a warrior in every sense of the word, his body scarred from a lifetime of conflict, his heart steeled against the terror that threatened to consume them all. He was older now, and the Black Shard had taken its toll, more than what most people could endure. Its dark energy gnawed at Varek’s soul, whispering to him in the dead of night. He felt its pull, a constant presence at the edge of his consciousness, and it was only a matter of time before the Shard consumed him.

One evening, after the Blackfrost receded from the world following yet another week of terror and dread, Varek called a council. The Blackshields, now more numerous, gathered around the campfire in the shadow of the mountain. Varek stood before them, his shield resting heavily at his side.

“The Shard,” he began, his voice thick with weariness, “is a burden I can no longer bear alone.”

A long and daunting pause followed, a murmur growing among the assembled warriors. None had ever considered the possibility that Varek, their unshakable leader, could falter.

“It protects us, yes. But it also corrupts. Every day, I feel it drawing me closer to the edge, and soon, I fear it might claim me.”

Kaira stepped forward, her face drawn with concern. “What are you saying, Varek?”

“I’m saying that one of you must take the Shard. We cannot rely on one man to carry the weight of Fenris’ future. We must share this burden.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the crackle of the fire. The Oracle, watching from the edge of the gathering, said nothing.

Varek looked at the faces around him, and knew what had to be done.

“We will hold a tournament,” he declared.

“The mightiest among you will earn the right to carry the Shard. The trials will be grueling, but only through them will we find the one who is worthy.” He took a long pause to stare at the assembled warriors, before continuing.

“Our legacy is one that will inspire and protect the world. You will be tried and judged to the highest degree, and only through faultless actions will you be deemed worthy. The days of the Blackshields as we know them are coming to an end. Who will sacrifice his soul for the protection of all we know? Who amongst you will take this burden from my hands, and carry it within their heart?”

Varek stood high on his feet, his stare piercing the soul of everyone present. With calculated movements, he took his shield and his sword and turned away slowly. No one talked as he walked away from the fire and into the darkness of the mountain. His last words, before vanishing in the star-filled night were all we needed, all that mattered.

“Prepare yourselves, the first Blackshield Tournament is upon you! We shall witness who will be bestowed this great honor!”