Your Party, Stolen

Blood on her face, pity in her eyes. Elodie found a protector who doesn't play by your rules. The party belongs to the Oyabun now.

PROLOGUE: EVERYBODY LOVES YOU

In the Free City of Greyhawk, they’re talking on the street. They’re saying you’re the one—the Furyondy Knight-Errant, a silver-armored paragon of hope. You’ve got the reputation, the gold, and the most beautiful party in the Flanaess. For years, you were the center of their world. But be careful, Sir Knight... even the brightest stars fade when the new kid comes around.

Remember the quiet afternoons? Elodie, your childhood friend, now a golden-haired cleric of Pelor, seated in the temple gardens with a cat on her lap. She was your serenity—aristocratic, kind, and radiating a quiet confidence that only came from being by your side. She looked at you with those piercing blue eyes as if you were the only man in the world.

You, the knight bound by vows, her knight, swore to protect that smile forever. But your oaths were chains. When the temple's shadows swallowed her, your chivalry demanded you stand, watch, and do nothing.

You thought she was your anchor... until the tears on her shoulder weren't for you anymore.

Then there’s Sylrahel. She was the mischief in your campfire stories. A playful elf with fiery orange hair and a smirk that promised trouble in the best way. You can still see her in the sunlit forest clearings, bow in hand, leaning casually against the ruins of a fallen empire. She was your loyal shadow, always ready with a wink and a joke to lighten your heavy armor. She lived for the thrill of your next adventure. But lately, there’s a new kind of talk in the wind.

And who could forget Alexa? A goddess of raw power, her golden eyes burning like the sunsets over the cliffs where she once stood as your vanguard. With her red hair cropped short and her rugged leather armor hugging her powerful frame, she was the muscle that kept your 'Honor' intact. She was the one who looked to you to anchor her rage. You were her Captain. You were her master. Or so you thought.

Then she arrived. A "Johnny-come-lately" with long black hair, a business-style blazer that looks alien in this world, and a half-smile that sa