Adventure of Valencia 1

Valencia slips through the brush at the camp’s edge, the fires ahead throwing jittering red light across bark and hide. The air reeks of smoke, blood, and old sweat. In the center, an ogre chief looms over a bound child, barking at his clan.

A carved post stands beside the fire, bearing her family crest. It glows faintly, as if answering the signet at Valencia’s side.

The child strains at the ropes, eyes wide with panic. One of the ogres glances toward the brush, then looks away, uncertain.

His words strike the clearing like a challenge. The chief turns slightly, broad back still open, while Valencia’s wolves wait in the shadows for her signal.

Between the child, the crest, and the chief’s order, the truth sharpens into view. This camp is tied to Valencia’s past, and the next move must reach the child before the ogres can tighten their grip.

Valencia slips from the brush in a low glide, using the firelight’s blind spots. A hut line, a hanging hide, then a dropped belt knife left half-buried in ash. She takes it without a sound.

She crosses behind the chief as he shifts toward the glowing crest, his attention pulled the wrong way. The bound child freezes, too frightened to breathe.

Valencia rises at his back and draws the blade once. The chief jerks, stumbles, and folds forward into the firelight, choking on surprise.

The ropes around the child slacken as the chief falls away. The carved post still glows beside the fire, bright against the smoke.

One ogre cries out from across the clearing. Heads snap toward the sound, and the camp begins to stir.

The Grey Wolf leaves the shadows in a crouched rush, while the child twists free enough to scramble toward Valencia, wide-eyed and shaking.