Streets of Ravetham

The sun gleamed overhead, casting sharp rays that made Warptor’s crystalline hide shimmer like a thousand jewels embedded in his skin. He sat in the passenger seat of the family’s transport, lost in thought as his wife, Xalava, a white-scaled kobold, handled the drive. Her eyes, sharp and focused, scanned the road ahead, but her grip on the wheel was relaxed. In the backseat, their children—Drakar, Lyssa, and Varyn—buzzed with excitement.

“Are we really gonna see a basilisk today?” Drakar, the eldest, asked eagerly, his dark scales accented with smaller, less prominent crystals much like his father’s. His eyes flicked between the holographic guidebook displayed on his wrist and the passing scenery.

Warptor chuckled softly. “If you’re lucky, Mekkar said he might show you more than just a basilisk. They have creatures here you won’t find anywhere else.”

“I want to see a sea serpent!” Lyssa, their daughter, exclaimed, her blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I heard they’re huge!”

The youngest, Varyn, sat quietly, his small body almost swallowed by the seat. His wide-eyed gaze was glued to the landscape passing by the window, his tail occasionally twitching in anticipation. Warptor reached back and patted Varyn’s head softly, a moment of tenderness amidst his preoccupied mind. As much as he cherished these family moments, the real reason for his visit loomed heavily in his thoughts. Don Cappo was expecting him after the family outing, and their planning had reached a critical stage.

The vehicle slowed as they pulled into Scalescape Sanctuary. The entrance was a grand spectacle, with towering gates that bore intricate carvings of legendary drakes and hydras. Mekkar, a blue-scaled kobold with tribal tattoos running down his muscular arms, stood at the entrance waiting for them, his fanged grin welcoming the family.

“Warptor! So good to see you,” Mekkar greeted, his voice a deep rumble. His gaze shifted to the children, “Ready for an adventure, little ones?”

Drakar practically leaped out of the vehicle. “You bet we are!” he said, while Lyssa and Varyn followed close behind.

Xalava gave Warptor a knowing glance from the driver’s seat before rolling up the window, her understanding clear: he would need to leave soon for business, but for now, he could enjoy the day with the kids.

Mekkar led the children inside, his voice animated as he described the rare creatures housed within the sanctuary. “We’ve got everything from wyverns and hydras to basilisks and sea serpents! There’s even a special greenhouse with some exotic flora—though that part’s for private tours only,” he winked. Warptor trailed behind, still mentally divided between his family and the impending meeting with Don Cappo.

For a brief moment, though, as he heard his children’s laughter echo through the sanctuary, Warptor allowed himself to enjoy the peace.

At the Ravetham Grand Conference Hall, a building famed for its international diplomacy, a high-profile meeting was underway. The structure, a modern marvel of glass and steel, stood tall in the city’s diplomatic quarter, a testament to Ravetham’s global importance.

The President of the United States, Aeliseth Thar’undar, a high elf with flowing silver hair and piercing blue eyes, led the delegation. She moved with an aura of authority, her every step measured, every glance carrying the weight of her office. Behind her, the All-Stars—the elite international peacekeeping force made up of gifted soldiers with abilities that surpassed even the greatest magicians and psychics—flanked her protectively.

General Vera Steele, a seasoned telekinetic and their leader, walked at the head of the group. She was known not only for her battlefield prowess but for her unparalleled strategic mind. Beside her strode the rest of the team:

Markus “Inferno” Creed: A pyrokinetic capable of controlling flames with surgical precision.
Dr. Elena Frost: A cryomancer whose icy touch could freeze enemies or create solid barriers of frost.
Sergeant Dylan “Echo” Ford: Manipulates sound waves to devastating effect.
Captain Sarah “Aegis” Monroe: The team’s protector, generating near-indestructible force fields to shield her comrades.
Hector “Lightning” Ruiz: A speedster whose unmatched reflexes and agility made him a blur on the battlefield.
They were there to meet with Matron Zelyndra Nyxaris, the queen of the Underdark, and her grandson, Kaelen Valrath.

From a nearby building, Lieutenant Krez—half-elf, renowned marksman—lay prone, her sniper rifle aimed precisely at the Grand Conference Hall. The orders had been clear. Kaelen Valrath was a problem, and she had been tasked with solving it. Three shots—clean, efficient, deadly.

Her earpiece crackled to life as her superior’s voice cut through. “Take the shot, then extract. No loose ends.”

Krez’s finger rested lightly on the trigger. Through the scope, she saw Kaelen enter the hall with his grandmother. Her breathing slowed, her mind cleared. Three deep breaths. Calm. Steady.

She pulled the trigger. The silenced rifle fired, and the first bullet ripped through the air, hitting Kaelen square in the chest. Then the second. And finally, the third. Each shot hit its mark perfectly.

But then something went wrong.

A sharp pain exploded in her head. Her nose began to bleed profusely, and before she could react, her body contorted violently. In an instant, she was gone, her body disintegrating into a red mist, leaving nothing behind.

The force of the bullets drove Kaelen back, his breath hitching as the pain seared through him. But even as the agony spread, his training from Red Dot kicked in. He focused, telekinetically sensing the bullets lodged inside his chest. With a grunt of effort, he extracted them, the hot metal clattering to the floor.

Matron Zelyndra’s eyes glowed a deep violet as she calmly picked up one of the bullets, inspecting it with an unsettling smile. “One less bug to deal with,” she murmured, her hand glowing softly with magic.

Around them, chaos erupted. President Thar’undar’s security swarmed, while the All-Stars moved to secure the perimeter. Gale, a blue-feathered Kenku reporter, hurried over, microphone in hand.

“Kaelen, are you really alright after taking three shots to the chest?” Gale asked, her voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Kaelen smirked, patting his chest as the wounds rapidly healed. “I’m invincible. Nothing to worry about. Let’s get this meeting done. I’ve got businesses to run.”

Watching from his private quarters, Valerian Drakov’s dark eyes glinted with pride as the news broadcast Kaelen’s survival. Even elder vampires would’ve struggled with such an injury, but Kaelen had endured it. Perhaps it was his bond with Seraphis that had saved him, a thought Valerian would need to explore further. But now, he had another priority: finding out who had orchestrated this assassination attempt. He summoned his maids, preparing for his journey into the crypt’s black market. Whoever was responsible would pay dearly.

Across the globe, Oy Yo sat across from her Yakuza boss father in a dimly lit room in Manga, Japan. The smell of incense filled the air as her father spoke of a new problem—a pink dolphin disrupting their business ventures.

“It’s ruining everything,” her father growled, his fingers tapping impatiently on the table.

Oy Yo frowned, recognizing the signature of Delphinus. “We can’t move against him directly. He’s dangerous. But I know someone who can help. I need to make a call.”

She picked up her phone, dialing Seraphis.

At Shadow Sweets, Kaelen’s newly opened bakery, Seraphis sat with Loren, enjoying Ronan’s famous wyvern heart meat cakes. Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen, seeing Oy Yo’s name flash across it.

“Hey, Oy Yo, what’s up?” Seraphis answered.

“I need your help. Delphinus is in Manga, Japan, causing trouble. Can you contact Zagoth?”

Seraphis sighed, knowing the only way to contact Zagoth was to be in the location and become a beacon by fluctuating her mana. “I’ll ask my bonded if we can head there. It’s the only way to summon him.”