Act I: Scene I

Phantom's Den

As the winds of war settled down in the northern realms, the frozen lands were returning to the once-forgotten calm. Words of the surviving Claymores returning reached for every village. Once the lands were left unprotected, as a result of the northern campaign, yomas started to show up everywhere. The lands were unsafe. Tales of Awakened Ones and other black figures wandering around stroke fear into the heart of the humans. The calm wind was just the eye of the tornado.

More and more people returned to town with stories about battles between yomas, Claymores and cloaked warriors. They spoke of how the cloaked warriors helped the Claymores at first then mercilessly killed them. More and more bodies turned up in the wilderness, only to disappear before the next dawn. Everyone was wondering who were these warriors, what side they were on and what did they want.

In the eastern lands, somewhere in the woods along the path, stood firm and proud the Bluerock Inn, built for traveling merchants who went towards the holy city of Rabona. It was a merry place, where everyone drank and laughed as they shared tales of their past with other travelers. The few guards, thick walls and iron gates of the inn were all the protection they needed. Even if they didn't know, in one of the small rooms stood a girl, all alone, waiting for the perfect moment to move out. With silver eyes and blond, spiky hair tied in a ponytail, dressed in black leather armor and a black cloak, she stood with her back to her huge sword stuck in the floor. A short knock on the door broke the silence in the room …

"Who is it?" she asked.

"The innkeeper" said a voice behind the door.

"Come in."

The door opened and a grizzled old man stepped in with a plate of food.

"I brought you the food, Miria."

"Thank you, old man. You're very kind."

"It's my pleasure," he said with a smile, "I don't mind that you're a Claymore. Your kind saved me and my wife years ago. The town was attacked by bandits and thanks to a Claymore who returned and fought the bandits, we're still alive. Even though she came back for a little girl, I still thank the Gods for her action back then."

Miria closed her eyes and gave the innkeeper a faint smile.

"I'm sorry to trouble you," she said, "you've kept my presence secret all this time, I will leave soon."

"Oh, you're always welcome. It's been just two months, just knowing a Claymore was here made me feel safe." replied the innkeeper.

"I heard the rumors so I must act before the organization gets me. I will leave at midnight when nobody notices." she said while grabbing the plate off the table.

"Have a safe trip, Miria."

"Have a long life, old man."

With that, the innkeeper stepped outside and closed the door behind him, leaving Miria once again all alone in the room. Quietly biting on the meat, she planned in mind her next action. The time she met up with her old friends was now, when their joined forces could face the unseen threat. The north was the arranged place of meeting, near their old battlefield at Pieta.

Midnight came. Downstairs, the patrons were too drunk to notice anything so Miria pulled the sword out of the floor, placed it into the scabbard and jumped out the window. It was pitch black as the moon was hidden behind thick clouds, only the lamps pointed the way to the exit.

"Ex-Number 6, "Phantom" Miria, right?" said a voice from the shadows.

With one swift stroke, Miria drew the sword and pointed it in the darkness.

"I wouldn't suggest you do that." said another voice from the opposite direction.

Carefully lowering the sword, Miria stepped a bit back.

"I take it you're from the organization." she said on a cold tone.

"Hehe … so … we finally found the phantom's den."