the area where the history and legend; of the creation of the alliance
of the forming of the three; this has been deemed worthy to pass on..[..Part Two: The Trail..]
'Yes, my son. Sit down. Welcome, to the machine. There will be some... guests. Yes. That is what they are. Treat them with the utmost respect, and escort them to the little quarters, just beyond the main casket room. There will be some bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. That should be adequate for a bunch of elven and human adventurers. After you deposit them there, you must quickly go outside. Close the door, flip the big blue switch, and stand away from the resulting laser screen. If you do not, your flesh will be burnt from your bones, and the stench that would pervade this entire complex would overpower our... friends. After that deterrent is activated, press the big red button- it will knock them out cold. Then go in there, after deactivating the shield, and retrieve from them anything that might be remotely useful to me or to them, other than their very clothes. They may keep their jewels and gold, but not their weapons. Bring those things to me, but first lock up the door and flip the switch again.
Rebitt was ordering his son around, as usual. Arcadia, his son, dutifully followed his orders to the 't', but loathed it. This time, though, it would prove to be his undoing. He sauntered down the hall in his father's subterranean palace, and also his burial monument. But Rebitt had never wanted to die, and was mortally afraid of death. He had experimented in the dark arts, and it seemed that his worst fears befell him. What happened though, was he became a lich, and raised all of his former followers to serve him from beyond the grave.
He had raised a great and vast Underground Empire. He was the Emperor. His subjects were merely his slaves, and were treated as such. Even his son, his prized heir in life, was his manservant now. When his populace grew to sufficient size, he had created an army. With this undead legion, he sent his mindless zombies out into the world, to wreak havoc wherever they could. And that they did.
* * * * *
From the notes of Draskireis
We found the only survivor in the town: a grizzled, old man, a war veteran by the look of his clothing. He began to shake uncontrollably when he caught sight of iZrAfeL. As the group approached, he knelt down in the muck and made a plaintive gesture as he gazed heavenward.
'Please... Don't hurt me. You didn't have to come back just for me...' he began to shriek 'Please d-'
He collapsed, having fainted when iZrAfeL advanced towards him. vAl revived him with a splash of cold water he channeled out of the humid air.
'Do not worry, old man. We aren't going to hurt you. This one' he said, nodding towards iZ, 'is for good, not evil. He just wanted to help you.'
vAl's words seemed to reassure him: 'My prayers have been answered! Thank Skeinir and the Old Gods that you have come! ..They came out of darkness, at night. Some of them looked like… him, that is why I was scared,' this time he nodded, still a bit shaky, at me- perhaps because I wore clothes that were red as blood or black as hope, and the collar to my heavy magical cape stood straight up, coming around to cast shadows on my face. He continued, 'Others were the living dead, with rotting flesh seething on their filthy cadavers, dropping off their mindless bodies, as they lifted up those who lagged behind while fleeing, and stole the life from them.'
'Old man, what other sorts of creatures were there in these raids?' Alv was not usually this respectful.
'The forward group was composed of things that looked like your friend there, only more... terrifying. At a certain distance, any not like them grew mortally afraid. None could stand to get closer than ten paces to them without collapsing. This one does not seem to be completely like them.'
'I am not. They tried to make me one of them long ago. They failed, miserably. I control the one which inhabits in me, and use its strength and unholy magic in combat. I am not one of them. Have no fear, old man- you are safe with us.'
'After those.. things, there were ghosts, ghouls, skeletons, and all other sorts of risen dead. Some that had their flesh falling from them as though it had rotted off. Others were wrapped in white cloth, maybe to keep that from happening. They were led by a great tall skeleton, who wore a gold crown set with many precious gems. He fought with a great broadsword, to heavy for a man to lift. A zombie fought at his side. He was smaller than this skeleton king, and reluctant to carry out his orders, but nonetheless he was obedient. He used a Great Axe in battle. Many a head did he sever that night. The Skeleton King's word's still echo within my head- "The living are a curse, who mean to seal up the dead in our cold stone tombs and forget about us. They will remember me."'
* * * * *
At our asking, the old man pointed out the direction that the hordes had come from, and we set off to end this menace to the living.
As the leaders of our illustrious clan, vAl and Rom headed the column as we trekked across the grasslands and the prairies. vAldiCi had one of his premonitions, usually caused by Chicken Noodle Soup, carried in a small vial on a chain around his neck. It was most potent; I know this first hand. vAl said that we were being followed, perhaps hunted. The hunter was quite skillful: ahead and behind all at once, almost herding us. We camped for the first night.
All of the mages with abilities in fire gathered around the pit. All at once, the ground caught fire. vAl immediately stopped channeling his blue into it. I stopped the flow of mine, and the fire turned black as fallen hope, the color channeled by iZrAfeL, once entirely human, now the host and controller of a Daemon Lord. Then Sin Eagle came over, and wove a net of the element of air, to trap the fire, but let through enough heat that we could gather about and warm ourselves, and enough light to see by. Nothing more. The fire could not be seen from the edge of our camp. To keep the burning ground from spreading, vAl used Air to dig a small trench, and channeled water from the air into the moat. The humidity lessened immensely.
After supper, all settled down for the nightly Sperkloft games. The first match was vAl and iZ. Romulus built the board, with weeds as forests, earthen mounds as hills, and canals created by our fire's melt off as streams. Pieces moved at set rates over the terrain, some faster than others, some airborne, others slow and packing a hefty punch. I never really had understood the game, and so I promptly fell asleep where I lay, watching from my bedroll.
I woke up in the middle of the night, startled by a dream that I cannot remember, no matter how hard I try. They were still clustered around the natural game board. I fell back asleep, and was haunted by dreams of some business on Tamarst I'd left unfinished…The morning after, I awoke around noon. I was the first one up. They were still passed out about the Sperkloft board, pieces knocked about and all. Romulus, however was in his bedroll. He was clutching the woman of his dreams to him. She was in his dreams, and at home. It was obvious that he missed her. vAldiCi had Amia to fill his dreams; Romulus, Sathu; I too had someone. Only Romulus' dreams would ever be realized: I wept for one not quite dead, but surely not living. vAl, on the other hand, was reaching for the heavens. All he got were his hallucinogenically induced Prophecies, Visions, and Warnings from Amia, the first WarAngel there was.
We got going as soon as Barky, the laziest and thus the last to wake, arose. His origins were unknown, only that the wood elf had been abandoned on the doorstep of the alliance shortly before I had been found. He wandered off to the nearest water hole to bathe, and came back soaking. He'd gone swimming instead of washing. When he was ready, we ate a quick breakfast, and continued on our journey. I grew worried about vAl's latest premonition as the day progressed...
The ground became browner, more moist. The plains gave way to forests. We continued on for several nights and days more, until we set eyes on Arbiranth, the capital of the region of Roujestner. It was a monument in and of itself: each building was carved with great skill and intricacy from a single enormous block of marble of a white so pure that the light the sun reflected off of it was blinding. The magi of the city having forseen this eventuality, they had placed translucent clouds above the city which dimmed the sun. There was a gargantuan fountain or a large statue on every corner. Most of the houses, even the smallest, would have qualified as a palace fit for the ruler of even the greatest empire on Ckindrusn. Those places of residence which were considered palaces, such as that where the king resided, were deserving of their own names, for they must be at least the size of a small city.
The shabbiest inns in town were more luxurious than anything any of the Alliance had ever stayed in before, and were almost beyond our means, but for some skillful transmutations of Di'Ethe's. His machine, a clever combination of mechanics and magic, ate up wooden discs and spat out golden coins of the same size and shape. Not even he could say what caused the machine to do this, though. We now had more gold than we could possibly have spent, even in a city as expensive as this. Before the day was out, we had several outfits that could pass us off as nobles in this society, and still we had reserves for twice that and more.
Out of all of the WarAngels, only Barky wore any of his finery on the streets. The rest of us wore our normal clothes, after we'd had our normal clothing repaired. I for one had my cape repaired, Romulus had his uniform sewn back together, with thread so fine that vAl could not detect any stitching. All garments purchased or repaired there were of equal or better quality.
On our first night in the city, all of us were quite bewildered when the city began to fade from view. It must have been some sort of curfew, for only the inns remained after the sun had set. After we entered ours, I noted that the inns too had vanished. I decided to sleep on it. I curled up in my cloak and slept in a dreamless state, much like being in stasis.
It turns out we were situated in the center of the wealthiest part of Arbiranth: the Tchakrobian Heights.