Master of using spears and skilled in hunting, Moscov was destined to be the next leader of Wildsand clan. A clan thriving in strength, wealth, and weaponry.
Consumed with envy, the khan of Thornwolf, hunted the inhabitants of Wildsand, amongst those were Moscov's group of hunters.
Him, being too weak to defeat the khan. Moscov opted to serve the Queen of Doom, to obtain the power he needed for the revenge he sought.
The Kingdom of Abyss was in utter chaos. Queen Alice forged more Blood Daemons, and called forth batallions of Circe Witches.
His Queen was readying her army for the ultimate clash.
Holding the Spear of Quiescence , he trudged on. Dried leaves the colour of blood dotted the ground he walked on, grim trees stared at him through thick trunks.
There was barely any light to guide him, but serving Alice for years taught him how to control the darkness, without letting it get a hold of you.
Moscov was on a hunt.
The rules were simple. Stab her in the back, for she is most vulnerable there. Avail the item. Leave.
He arrived in the island, the sea waves casually touching the sand. The stars were out. The night was dark and peaceful.
The Abyss was a boisterous place, Daemons screeching, Witches howling. It was the quiet he missed the most.
In the middle of the shore, stood a cabin, door wide open. And there she was, her back on him, exposed.
He levelled his Spear of Quiescence to impale her back, but in a split second, the girl disappeared.
Moscov stood still, his senses hyperaware of his surroundings, waiting.
A low voice whispered in his ear.
"What's your story, hunter? Have you come to kill me?"
Moscov didn't reply.
"Well, then you'd have to catch me first."
Quick as lightning, Moscov made a move to grab her neck but he touched nothing but air instead.
Moscov had been warned that his target would be tricky but it was unnerving to have an opponent that you cannot see.
He needed to get the item. Immediately.
"We have your killer friend. The one with the odd skin and sharp blades. If you don't come with me, she will die."
There was a loud hiss.
And then the woman reappeared in front of him. Moscov saw his target for the first time.
Her giant razor-sharp Claws was out, and a promise of cold death in her eyes.
She was exquisite.