All Chapters of ROLFE: Heir to the ancient throne: Chapter 1
- Chapter 8
8 chapters
Episode 1
The sky grew heavy with clouds so dark that day seem to become night. Thunder rumbled in the distance, echoing through the valley like the roar of a long-forgotten creature. This storm carried an omen which even the elders couldn't interpret.When the first flashes of lightning lit up the sky, the returning warriors were seen from the watchtower, making their way along the muddy path into the settlement. There were far fewer than those who had left weeks earlier; only a few remained where there had once been a hundred. They held no flags and shouted no cheers of victory. Their shoulders drooped under wet furs and broken spirits. Despite the stormy weather, villagers gathered to welcome them back. Mothers and wives wrapped shawls around themselves, their faces pale and filled with worry. Children peeked out from behind legs and cloaks, searching for familiar faces among the warriors. But all that returned were shadows dressed in flesh. Rolfe pushed his way through the crowd, his hear
Episode 2.
The square of Rockwyn buzzed with noise. The clan members stood still since the echo of Malcer's scream faded into the rumbling thunder. Blood stained the mud, dark and thin like wine, seeping into the boots of those closest to the fighting ring. Jeras remained at the center, breathing heavily, with his blade nicked and dripping. He had not killed Malcer. Only a few noticed the unusual hesitation, how his sword wavered mid-swing when it should have delivered the final blow. The crowd roared, oblivious to details, craving victory. Amidst that chaos, Jeras dragged Malcer’s limp, bleeding body away just as the storm broke over the roofs. The rain poured down hard and cold, beating against leather tents and thatched roofs. Many saw it as an omen, either the gods mourning or cleansing the ground of shame. But what the gods truly thought remained unknown. The old seer, Mira, whispered that the storm would last a while. She turned her back on the square and walked barefoot through the mud,
Episode 3
The torches cast long shadows down the corridor under Rockwyn’s hall. The air felt damp and had a smell of mold and rust. Rolfe’s boots scraped through the dirt as Jeras’s men pulled him forward using ropes tied around his arms. “Move,” Varn grunted, pushing him toward a low door. They pushed him inside, and the darkness enveloped him completely. For a brief moment, all he could hear was the sound of dripping water and his own harsh breathing. Then the door slammed shut above him, and silence filled the space like a living being. Rolfe blinked as his eyes began to adjust. The pit was small, with stone walls slick from moss and a faint scent of blood in the air. He could hardly see anything, but something in the corner caught his eye, a slumped figure chained to the wall. "Who's there?" he croaked out. The figure stirred, and a raspy voice emerged from the shadows. "Rolfe...?" Rolfe froze. That voice is broken yet familiar. "Brother?" There was a shuffling sound followed by a c
Episode 4.
The fire flickered low in the center of Rockwyn. Its smoke shot straight up into the morning sky, dark against the grey backdrop. The rain had stopped, leaving the mud thick and chilly beneath their feet. Jeras’s men stood around the fire quietly and watching. In the middle, Jarvis hung by his wrists from a wooden beam, his upper body bare. He had been in that position since dawn after being caught.Varn walked slowly around him, holding a piece of hot iron that glowed red at the tip. “You can make this end, boy. Just tell us where he is hiding.” Jarvis’s head drooped, his face bruised with one eye almost closed. He spat blood into the mud. “Go to the pit where you keep your ghosts.” Varn smirked slightly and pressed the hot iron against Jarvis’s shoulder. The sound of sizzling flesh broke through the morning air as Jarvis screamed, his voice bouncing off the walls. Jeras observed from his chair, holding a cup of ale with an unreadable look on his face. The men next to him shifted
Episode 5
That night, the moon hung cold and distant over Rockwyn, casting silver light on rooftops and sharp spikes. The clan banners drooped low, drenched in evening dew, swaying in the restless wind that whispered through the empty settlement like ghosts passing by. Elisa took the lead with her hood pulled tight, walking carefully and controlling her breaths. Behind her, Rolfe and Jarvis, thin, shaking, but still alive, moved like shadows along the dark edges of Rockwyn. They had entered through old grain tunnels beneath the eastern walls passages long forgotten except by those either desperate or reckless enough to use them. Jarvis stumbled once, pain from his recent torture still fresh. Rolfe caught him before he fell and murmured, “Be careful. One sound and it’s all over.” “I can still walk,” Jarvis replied in a cracked voice. “Just get me far away from this cursed place.” When they reached the edge of the woods, Elisa paused. The forest ahead was dark and damp, with only the occasion
Episode 6
The torches in Rockwyn burned brightly throughout the night. What was once a celebration had turned into a manhunt. Jeras stood in front of the chief's hall, breathing heavily with his jaw locked tight like stone. The firelight highlighted his face, making his features look sharp and almost chiseled from anger. All around him, men rushed about armor half-fastened and swords half-drawn shouting orders into the dark woods beyond. Kol's body lay in the hall, dragged in and presented as a grim reminder of Jeras' failure. His blood seeped into the ground, staining it dark. "He killed him," one scout stuttered. "Kol found the boy in the prison ward. He fought back... gods, the boy really fought." Jeras turned slowly, his face blank. "A boy? You mean the whelp that the old chief brought in from the border?" The scout paused. "Yes… Rolfe." At the mention of that name, Jeras’ eyes changed not with confusion, but with a hint of understanding. He waved off the scout and looked down at Kol’
Episode 7
The rain started again before dawn, as Rolfe led the way, his jaw tight and eyes alert. Behind him, Elisa assisted Jarvis over a fallen log while their breaths misted in the chilly air. They had been running since nightfall, catching only quick naps among the trees. The sound of footsteps chasing them had faded hours ago, but none of them thought it was truly gone. When they caught a faint whiff of smoke, Rolfe halted. “Someone’s close by.” Elisa glanced up cautiously. “It might be a trap.” He shook his head. “No. It feels… familiar.” Before she could ask more questions, he moved ahead, pushing aside wet branches until they reached a small clearing. There stood an old hut made of wood and stone, partially hidden by creeping vines and leaning pines. Smoke gently rose from its chimney. Elisa frowned. “You’ve been here before.” Rolfe nodded once. “No, but it looks familiar. Like Mira’s hut.” Jarvis let out a shaky breath. “The witch.” “She’s not a witch,” Rolfe replied, but even
Episode 8
Rolfe, Elisa, and Jarvis had been on the road for three days without a proper break. They followed the rough path northward, passing by scattered stone piles and fallen watchtowers that once represented Rockwyn’s strength. They were entering the borderlands between Rockwyn and Corville.Jarvis limped along, his arm still wrapped from the injuries he sustained during their escape. Elisa stayed close to him, her face pale but filled with determination. Rolfe led the way, his eyes scanning the horizon each step driven by memories of Mira's words and Jeras’ fury. When they reached the ridge that overlooked the valley at the border, Rolfe halted. Below them lay a wide stretch of gray grass and stone. In the distance, rising through the fog like a sharp tooth, they could see the first watchfire of the Corville clan. Elisa let out a sharp breath. “We made it.” “Not yet,” Rolfe replied. “Borders mean watchers.” He was correct. Suddenly, they heard hooves pounding behind them, cutting thr