My diamond tier reward in splinterlands

Splinterlands Lore in my opinion

The Shadowmeld family has lived in the dark fortress of Azul for centuries. During a week-long celebration of Octavia's sister's birth, dark assassins attacked, killing her parents and causing chaos. Octavia found her parents dead in the great hall and raced to the nursery to save her baby sister. She found the room filled with dead guards and assassins, and her family's wolfhound standing over her sister's upturned crib, with blood on his mouth and her sister lying still underneath.
"What did you do, Kahn?" Octavia stumbled forward, clutching the knife tightly.

The wolfhound snarled, leaving drops of blood on the pristine bedding. Octavia's anger flared, and she charged at him. He stood still, and she stabbed the knife repeatedly into his neck. After he fell, Octavia collapsed beside her sister, tears streaming down her face. How could this happen? Why did their loyal Kahn turn against them? The questions tormented her, and the stifled cries of her sister reached her ears as she desperately tried to kick off the blankets.

Octavia tossed the covers aside and picked up her baby sister, her heart overflowing with happiness until she realized what she had done. Kahn had been protecting her sister. He had killed their enemies, ripped them apart so they couldn't hurt her, and Octavia had killed him for it. The guilt overwhelmed her, and she leaned against his motionless body, inhaling the scent of his gray fur and sobbing uncontrollably.
From that day forward, Octavia never showed a hint of happiness, and every year on the anniversary of that fatal night, she heats the emblem from Kahn’s collar until it is searing hot before searing its imprint onto her forearms. This feeds the vengeful magic that resides deep within her soul. Many have spoken in hushed tones about this ritual, but never within earshot of the lethal Octavia. She has her own reasons for bearing the scars, the symbol of cruelty, a reminder of the night she killed her sister's faithful protector, the night she became a murderer.

Thus was born the Malevolent Mark, a lethal syndicate of assassins under the leadership of Octavia Shadowmeld herself. Initially, she only welcomed orphans, determined to give them a second chance at life. Later, she became even more meticulous, selecting her members after a thorough vetting process. These killers were notorious throughout the realm, and many petitioners came to her with unimaginable riches, seeking to hire them against their foes. Octavia turned them all down. Only she could choose the names written in her ledger. The Malevolent Mark was not for sale.

Octavia proceeded down to the dungeons of the Cruel Mark. Despite the frigid temperatures, she pressed on, her focus unbroken. The vacant cells were passed by in a hurry, as the oil lamp's orange light illuminated her path. The gnome, Klaansmyrt, appeared to be still working in his laboratory, judging by his untidy clothing and unkempt hair, since she had last seen him almost a week ago.

"I expected you earlier," Klaansmyrt said without turning his head, fiddling with a small bundle of wires.

"Banu required my attention," Octavia answered.

"When the little princess calls, her sister always responds," he replied, gesturing to a large crate on a nearby shelf. "Pass me that box, would you?"

"My sister is everything to me, Klaa," Octavia said, taking the crate and setting it on the workbench. "Is it finished?"

Klaansmyrt rubbed his hands together eagerly. "It's ready for you to test. Whether or not it's complete... well, time will tell."

Octavia extracted a large, glass, cylindrical container from the crate, filled with a black liquid that sloshed around inside. She loosened the shoulder straps and slung it onto her back.

"Now, secure the metal tubes into the sockets on your gloves," Klaansmyrt instructed, a grin on his face.

Octavia secured the mask over her mouth and nose, adjusting the straps for a tight fit. She flexed her fingers, the sharp claws glinting in the dim light of the laboratory. "Let's see what this nocturne can do," she said, excitement lacing her voice.

Klaasmyrt gestured to a dummy hanging from the ceiling. "Give it a go."

Octavia stepped forward and sliced the air with her claws, releasing a small burst of the black liquid. It vaporized instantly, filling the room with a noxious gas. The dummy twitched and convulsed before falling still, its lifeless body swinging from side to side.

Octavia let out a whoop of triumph. "This is going to be a game-changer," she said, grinning from ear to ear.

Klaasmyrt nodded, his expression serious. "But be careful. The effects of nocturne are unpredictable. In high concentrations, it can even affect the user."

Octavia's grin faltered. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, unhooking the tank from her back. "Thanks, Klaa. You've outdone yourself once again."

As Octavia made her way out of the dungeon, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation. The Cruel Mark was about to become even deadlier.

Reward Summoner Card

Posted using Splintertalk