Rise Online: Return of the Legendary Player

The stranger closed the door softly. When the cold wind had completely ceased, the gloomy hood lowered completely, hiding his facial features, as he walked with silent steps towards the tavern bar.

The silence still hung in the air, but now it was more than just the tension between Talfor and Valthorn - it was an expectant pause, as if everyone was waiting for the revelation of who the hell this man was.

The stranger's every step echoed off the worn wood of the floor, his cloak trailing elegantly behind him. The eyes of everyone in the tavern followed him, keeping a respectful distance. Even Valthorn's subordinates, who moments before had been ready to take part in the proposed game, now kept a wary eye on the mysterious figure.

When he reached the counter, the stranger pulled out a stool with a soft creak and sat down. The click of wood under his weight broke the momentary silence. He raised his hand to catch the eye of the tavernkeeper, a dwarf with a long red beard who was busy cleaning mugs.

"A glass of the best mead you have, my friend," said Kaizen in a quiet voice. His diction was clear and precise, conveying confidence.

The tavernkeeper, still surprised by the stranger's unusual entrance, shook his head in the affirmative and began to serve the order. Meanwhile, the rest of the tavern remained silent, watching the newcomer's every move.

Talfor, even though Valthorn's proposal was still pending, kept his eyes fixed on the stranger. He realized that something had changed in the atmosphere of the tavern, something that went beyond the simple interruption. Then he finally remembered those travelers he had received a few hours ago and a palpable curiosity and nervousness permeated his face.

However, Valthorn, with all his authority and ego, clearly wouldn't easily accept someone he didn't even know interrupting him in this way, especially since this village was under a collection process by the lord. When some of his subordinates looked at Valthorn, the dark elf, with a serious expression, inclined his head, as if giving an order.

So the soldiers left the back of the tavern and started towards the bar, pushing over the tables and chairs where the dwarves were.

The stranger silently watched Valthorn's soldiers approach. His hood remained down, hiding his features in the dim light.

Valthorn's men, dressed in dark, imposing armor, were full of suspicion and ready for any sudden movement on the part of the stranger.

"Who are you?" growled one of the dark elves as his companions surrounded Kaizen.

The dwarf tavernkeeper, interrupting his work, stepped back, already smelling the scent of confusion and intrigue filling the tavern.

Kaizen raised his glass of mead to his mouth, but stopped to reply.

"My name is Kaizen, and I'm not from this world. " he replied calmly, without being intimidated by the imposing presence of the soldiers or turning in their direction.

Valthorn's men exchanged looks of disbelief and laughed, thinking that Kaizen was just joking with them. The leader, however, frowned suspiciously.

"We're not here for your jokes. What are you doing in this village? Who are you?" insisted another of the elves.

Kaizen, without losing his composure, said:

"I'm telling the truth."

The soldiers laughed even louder, thinking that Kaizen was trying to fool them. One of them, more daring, reached out to touch Kaizen's shoulder, planning to make him reveal himself as some kind of charlatan. However, the instant the soldier's hand approached the stranger's hood, a mysterious force rippled through the air. An invisible energy stopped the soldier's hand before it could touch Kaizen.

The soldiers, initially confident, were surprised and confused.

"What is it, Draug?"

"I can't touch him." The other replied, astonished.

"What a load of garbage..." one of them replied and tried to touch Kaizen too, but the same thing happened to his hand.

A feeling of helplessness spread among them, and the laughter gradually disappeared.

"What's going on here?" demanded Valthorn, his voice echoing through the tavern from the back. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the stranger's back, trying to discern the truth. "Speak the truth, stranger. Why are you really here?"

Kaizen sighed softly, realizing that the truth alone would not be enough to allay suspicions. With a subtle gesture, he lowered his hood, revealing his black hair and white skin. He lifted the freshly poured mug, and turned towards the crowd before taking a sip. The mead slid smoothly down his throat as he savored the drink with an expression of contentment.

When he lowered the mug and opened his eyes, he saw everyone staring at him in amazement.

"Valthorn, isn't it?" asked the stranger, his voice echoing in the tavern. ]

Valthorn nodded. "Yes, and who might you be? Given your fair skin, you're certainly a human, but I haven't heard anything about humans in Niflheim for ages."

Kaizen stood up and started walking towards the table where the dark elves and the dwarf Talfor were sitting.

"As I said, I'm not from here and that's all you need to know about me. Now, I heard earlier about a game, is there room for an additional player?"

Valthorn frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You want to meddle in the affairs between me and this dwarf?"

The stranger smiled enigmatically, revealing a glimpse of white teeth. "I'm just an interested observer, Valthorn. But I'm also someone who values justice and balance. I see you've proposed a game of dice to decide the fate of this village. An intriguing method, no doubt."

Valthorn tilted his head. "And what does this have to do with you?"

The stranger placed his mug on the table next to Talfor. "More than you can imagine. If you accept, I suggest that this game not only be between you and Talfor, but that it also include a third neutral player to ensure fairness."

Valthorn's eyes narrowed even more. "And who would that third player be? You?"

"Of course!"

"Why should we trust you?"

"Because I can choose to spare you when I go to kill your lord." Kaizen declared, looking serious.

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