STORMERE
Season 1, Episode 6: "The Capital"
FADE IN:
EXT. VERITA – MORNING
Sunlight cuts through fog. The city sprawls below, towers of pale marble, streets twisting like veins, banners fluttering from high walls. Verita hums with life: merchants shouting, bells ringing, smoke rising from bakeries and forges.
The group stands on a ridge, taking it all in.
SOREN (grinning): Well, that doesn’t look like a death cult. I’m already impressed.
LYRA (half-smile): Give it time. Cities have their own types of cults.
HUNTER: Still beats sleeping in mud.
KAEL (quietly): Don’t speak too soon.
They head toward the gates.
INT. VERITA – MARKET DISTRICT – DAY
Bustle. Music. The smell of roasted fruit and metal.
Lyra slips through the crowd with ease, snagging an apple from a cart when no one’s looking. She tosses it to Hunter.
LYRA: Don’t worry, hero. It’s “morally borrowed.” I'll return here someday and leave the money. I keep track of everything I ever stole.
HUNTER (grinning): You steal apples now? That's a low even for you.
LYRA: Can’t protect my friends on an empty stomach.
They walk side by side, laughing: closer than they’ve been. Ariadne watches from behind, hiding a small smile.
EXT. VERITA – FOUNTAIN SQUARE – AFTERNOON
The group pauses at a massive fountain carved with symbols of the gods. Water glints like silver.
ARIADNE (studying it): The markings… they’re before the forging of the Kingdom. This city is older than most stuff on this land.
ALERIC (dry): Everything is.
SOREN (leaning back): Spoken like a true brooding philosopher. Try smiling sometime, Aleric.
ALERIC (without looking): Try being useful sometime, Soren.
Kael actually laughs, a low, surprised sound. The others glance at him; it’s the first time they’ve heard it.
LYRA (teasing): Did the mysterious stranger just… chuckle?
KAEL: Don’t get used to it. But that was too good to pass.
Everyone laughs.
INT. VERITA – TAVERN – NIGHT
Warm light, laughter, clinking mugs. The crew’s finally letting loose.
Lyra and Hunter sit close at the bar. She’s tipsy, grinning, tapping her cup against his.
LYRA: You ever think about what you'll do after this?
HUNTER: After we reach Stormfall? (takes a sip of beer) Maybe I’ll open a forge. Simple life. I'm not doing this for riches or fame. Just here to help my little brother.
LYRA (soft): That sounds… nice.
HUNTER: There's always room for one more, you know?
LYRA: I think I'd like that.
They share a quiet look, the air between them charged.
Across the room, Soren and Aleric argue about who’s paying the tab, while Ariadne studies a map in silence.
Kael sits at a corner table, isolated. His gaze is distant, haunted. The tavern buzzes around him, laughter, clinking cups, a bard strumming softly, but it’s all a dull blur. Kael’s fingers twitch near the hilt of his blade. A reflex he can’t shake.
He stands, pushes through the door.
EXT. VERITA – BACK ALLEY – LATER
Rain slicks the cobblestones. The city hums faintly beyond the walls, a lull before the storm.
Kael walks alone, head down. A SHOUT echoes from a nearby stall: two men arguing, drunks stumbling. He barely glances their way.
Then a hand grabs his shoulder.
STRANGER (drunkenly): You lookin’ for trouble, traveler?
KAEL (tired): Not tonight.
The man laughs, ugly and sharp, and steps closer. Kael notices a faint tattoo on the man’s wrist: the mark of the Ashen Veil.
His breath catches. His hand flinches toward his knife: instinctive, defensive.
KAEL: Where did you get that mark?
STRANGER (grinning): Didn’t think any of you rats escaped the pit.
Kael’s pulse spikes. He grabs the man’s arm, not to strike, just to push him back. The man shoves harder. They stumble, a crash, and Kael’s blade slips free.
KAEL (whispering): No… no, no, no.
He kneels beside him, pressing his hands over the wound. Blood seeps through his fingers. The man gasps once, and goes still. The rain starts to pour harder, washing the red away in streaks. Kael just stares at his own trembling hands.
KAEL (hoarse, breaking): It wasn’t supposed to... I didn’t mean...
A lantern light flickers in the distance. Footsteps. Voices. Kael backs into the shadows, shaking, eyes wild.
INT. VERITA – TAVERN – CONTINUOUS
Laughter continues. Lyra leans on Hunter’s shoulder. Soren throws a peanut at Aleric, misses. For a moment, it feels like peace.
EXT. VERITA – ALLEY – CONTINUOUS
Then, with shaking hands, he wipes it clean on his cloak and tucks it away. His face hardens, not cruel, just cold, broken. He turns back toward the tavern’s glow.
KAEL (quiet, to himself): It was an accident...
He disappears into the rain.
FADE OUT.
END OF EPISODE