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Some time after the events of Part I: In Search of Melodies in Ruin --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As fat as he was, Ozu'ya struggled to crawl away. Sweat dribbled - no, poured from his forehead and drenched his shirt. His heart rate was accelerating and his blood pressure spiked. His eyes widened with fear when he realized that his back was now touching the wall; no more room or any chances to escape. In front of him, she swung slightly in the air - loosely like a swing in the gentle wind. Her eyes had rolled back and drool mixed with blood trickled from her mouth. Clenching tightly around her neck was a black armored gauntlet, each finger was sharp like the talons of a bird of prey. Her larynx was crushed but she had died seconds earlier when the wicked sword plunged into her gut. Now the whore's corpse swung gently as the murderer held her aloft by her neck. With a single hand, the murderer threw her body effortlessly across the room and her blood splattered onto the wall upon physical impact. The miqo'te whore's body fell back onto the floor... ... and joined the other corpses that laid scattered on the floors of the brothel. The murderer slowly turned his his attention towards the cowering fat Ozu'ya. Ozu'ya wimpered at the sight of the black helm that stared directly at him. Calmly, the black and crimson armored knight made his way towards the last of his prey. "N-no! W-wait, p-please! I-I... I can give you gil! All the gil you desire!" The Dark Knight slowly advanced closer with each step. "Think of the gil! N-no, wait, how about women? P-power? P-please don't kill me!" The Dark Knight was now a mere few feet from a rich and fat Ozu'ya. "I'll pay double - no, triple of what they paid you!" Ozu'ya was now dimmed by the shadow of the Dark Knight. Slowly lifting his massive great sword - a sword forged by otherworldly means, the Dark Knight prepared to execute Ozu'ya. Ozu'ya continued to mumble with snot and tears streaming from his puffy face. The fear had caused his face to drain itself of blood and as his eyes stared at the blade that spelled his doom, he squealed at the top of his lungs. The weapon was brought down into the face of Ozu'ya the fat. Ozu'ya the rich. Ozu'ya the corrupted. And the screaming was no more. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The brothel burned into the night and the flames licked the cool sky. The building slowly collapsed as the Dark Knight walked away. Quietly and calmly, he walked ever so gently. His helm masked his face and in the darkness beneath the great helm were steel colored eyes... ... and they burned with unrelenting hate.

PROLOGUE: CARNAGE Strength is pain. Strength is suffering. Strength is sacrifice. Those who have never faced death do not scruple to condemn others to it. They know nothing of true sacrifice, and are weak for their ignorance. In sacrifice there is strength. In sacrifice there is liberation. For one that was unrelenting has come to be unmerciful. For the other always unceasing has finally become a nightmare to all. May The Fury guide us in our road to damnation. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Somewhere in Dravania... Ever had the cold lingered and suffocated every hint of sun and light that made its way into the white mountain. Agony and sorrow, birthed from war, had halted time and each movement of life seemed sluggish just like the flakes of snow that descended onto clashing steel and iron. "Kill the heretics! Kill them all!" In the thick of the forest of ice and snow, a party of Ishgardian Knights sent from the footsteps of the Holy See of Ishgard carried on with their battle against traitorous Dravanaian worshiping heretics. The captain of the knights swung his sword crosswise at his opponent, slicing the bare flesh of the heretic's neck where mail armor did not cover. The other knights advanced, exchanging parries and slashes, arrows and stabs, as bodies from both groups lay broken and lifeless. "Do not let any of them escape! By Halone shall victory be ours!" Holding his sword aloft, the knight captain sprinted and parried incoming arrows as he led the charge forward. The heretics, being outnumbered, began to retreat back into the mountains with quick haste. The knight captain grinded his teeth and charged faster, determined not to let any of the traitors escape. As he began to close in on the first heretic, the captain stopped, for the heretic that stood in front of him had also ceased running. The elezen stood still for a time being and right as the captain approached, the heretic elezen fell onto his back in a quick and bloody heap. The captain furrowed his brow, approaching the shadow that stood over the dead body of the heretic. Armor black like charcoal, this knight did not belong in the captain's ranks. Holding his massive sword aloft in the air, the knight coldly stared back at the captain with steel colored eyes underneath his helm. The snow cascaded slower than the blood that trickled onto the ground from the knight's sword. "Well, it looks like we're in luck! It seems the Va-" Interrupted by a scream of agony behind him, the captain turned to witness one of his knights impaled by a halberd and thrust into the air. The wielder of the weapon was another knight - armor crimson and jet, showered by the blood of the captain's murdered man. "What the hell is going here?! Why are you two doing th- GAH!" The next and final words that came from the knight captain was cut short as the same halberd was plunged into his mouth. His eyes rolled back, his body felt limp, and air was difficult to inhale as his throat filled with pain and blood. Before the knight captain fell into eternal slumber, the last thing he saw as he was lifted into the air was the countless bodies of both heretics and knights that littered the snow. The Vale Brothers had slaughtered them all.

PROLOGUE Nearly one year later... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Clarielle exhaled deeply as Falorgeant was the first to set foot into Lord Viarre‘s chambers. The elder elezen had his back turned to the duo as his strong features stared quietly outside his window. “And what…" echoed the voice of Lord Viarre. “… brings two dragon hunters from the heart of Ishgard into my presence?” Falorgeant and Clarielle bowed, their cerulean armor shined before what little light bled through the massive decorative window. “You know who we are then, Lord Viarre. I assume you also already know as to why we are here.” Listening, the veteran knight continued to gaze into the emptiness of the snow covered valley before his eyes wandered to his own reflection. Clarielle stepped fourth while Falorgeant began to wander towards one of the many massive bookshelves that decorated the inside of the chamber. “Is it true then? That the brothers did not die? Is it what Ishgard believes or is it what you believe, Lord Viarre?” For a moment, Lord Viarre said nothing and only closed his eyes. “They are not of Ishgardian blood, you see. To this day, we do not know where they came from. When they came to us, they were young… lost… but their strength only proved that they earned a place amongst our own.” “You knew them very well?” asked Falorgeant as he plucked a book from the shelf and quietly skimmed through it. Lord Viarre nodded, his eyes still closed and deep in thought. “You then understand why we must find them. Time is of the essence, Lord Viarre.” said Falorgeant, returning his attention towards the veteran knight before placing the book away. Brushing her hair from her face, Clarielle‘s silver eyes shifted from Falorgeant and back to Lord Viarre. “Darkness descends onto the kingdom. Men of such caliber are needed if we are to win this Dragonso-” “To find them… you must forget the stories. Forget the rumors. Walking in their shoes is simply not enough for they are more than the sum of their actions.”