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This is the first book. Each entry will be one chapter of this book. |
| The ruined village of Lansby was a day and a half’s ride from the thriving life of Windport. The roads outside of town gave way to the plains and scattered woodlands of the surroundings that once claimed much of Newhome itself. Guildmaster Smithwest provided his new apprentices with a wagon, some horses, and supplies they would need to carry out their first tasks. Ian rode in the front, while Crevecour took up the left side of the wagon. Aurora rode on the right, while Farim held the reins of the wagon, and Josephine sat beside him, her crossbow nearby in case of trouble. Her cat, Merlyn, lazily stretched out by her feet, carefully guarding the cramped driver’s box floor of the wagon. Morgan rode behind the wagon, keeping an eye on both the rear of the group, and making sure the two horses tied to the back of the wagon were able to keep up and not get loose from their small caravan. The day’s travel, though uneventful with favorable weather, still carried an unnerving caution. The usual talkative interactions between this new group were lacking, as each seemed more on-guard for any problems that they may encounter. They found a place to camp and set up for the night. The dinner conversation seemed to improve their mood a little but carried back over into a feeling of unease, as the group settled into their watch shifts. Morgan walked off from the main area and set up her own smaller fire after the evening’s meal. Aurora approached her a short time later. “Good evening. May I join you?” she asked. Morgan curtly nodded and gestured to the other side of her fire. “I thought I was the only one that enjoyed the solace of sleeping away under the sky.” Morgan grunted in answer. Aurora looked skyward and took in the stars and moonlight of the clear spring evening. “Lansby had the best view of the moon on clear nights.” Morgan quietly said, “I have not returned there in a very long time.” Aurora nodded. “Perhaps when your task is finished in Lansby, you can show me.” Another long silence passed between them. “I would like that.” Morgan almost whispered, then cast her own gaze skyward, as the night moved on. The wagon and horses arrived at Lansby the next morning. The air was still throughout the ruins. Huts and other buildings that once stood proudly were now reduced to rubble. Nearby crop fields converted to graves for the former inhabitants, with interspersed patches of overgrowth the only current signs of life other than the current visitors, as the wagon and riders made their way into the center of the devastated village. The horses were visibly uncomfortable, but able to be gently controlled. “I don’t like this.” Farim muttered, controlling the reins, and looking at his waraxe. “Same here.” Josephine replied, bringing up her crossbow. Ian quickly scanned around the area, then moved his horse back to the end of the wagon towards Morgan, who was securing her own horse to the back of the wagon. “Please do what you must here, quickly.” Morgan curtly nodded at him and moved towards the graves. Ian rode back towards Farim and Josephine. “All of those dead.” Farim said, “At least your group did them a proper service by burying them.” Ian looked back at him, shaking his head. “This was not our doing. It was like this when we arrived.” He steadied his mount, while glancing around again. “The feeling of death never left this place, then or now.” Ian finished. The three of them then looked at Morgan in silence. Morgan was moving with purpose through the various rows, when she suddenly stopped and looked around…several of the graves that she could see were open and empty. “Crevecour!!” She shouted, “Get over here!!” Crevecour had just completed attaching his own mount to a side hitch on the wagon. Hearing Morgan’s shout, he began to run to her, freeing up his warhammer and holding it ready as he moved. “Get ready for trouble my friend.” Farim said to Josephine, loosening his own weapon, and starting to move his way off the wagon. Josephine muttered something under her breath, as she loaded her crossbow. Ian quickly moved his horse into motion, as he started to ride around the other end of the wagon, keeping a watch on their right, while nodding to Aurora, who was dismounting and leading her horse to its own side hitch. Crevecour arrived at Morgan’s spot and looked over the open graves. He looked around, seeing several more open graves. “Morgan.” He stated, “We need to leave, now.” Several of the horses neighed, started to pull against their reins. Ian almost lost control of his own horse, as Merlyn suddenly arched up and hissed, joining the sounds that now broke the still air. Aurora looked around towards the edge of some of the ruined huts and paused. They were not alone. Almost immediately, a crash of movement erupted from the right side, as several skeletons emerged from ruined doorways and behind walls, lumbering towards the assembled group. “On our right!” Ian yelled, vaulting off his horse. His mount, now free, began to gallop away from the wagon. Josephine saw the skeletons and had to catch her composure. She then looked at her crossbow. “Well, this is next to useless.” She muttered, placing it down, and moved to the ground. She then looked back at her feline companion, who was now trying to cower down behind her crossbow. Stay there, she commanded him mentally. Easily done, he replied, already dropping out of sight. Aurora was now at her side. “Any ideas?” she asked, a nervous tone to her voice. “Survive?” Josephine replied, trying to think of what she needed to do next. Crevecour and Morgan also witnessed the sudden arrival of their new enemies. “Come on!” Crevecour said to Morgan, quickly moving back to the wagons. Morgan started running, her sword in her hand as she moved. They arrived as Farim was moving around the front of the wagon towards the right side, where their companions were. “We need to destroy them.” Farim stated, “Or we will not live to see the night.” “Agreed.” Crevecour replied, as the six of them now stood together. The wagon and remaining horses now positioned behind them, with a wave of undead in front. “If any of you have magical means to dispatch them, use it.” Ian said, “while the rest of us move in and try to keep them off you.” Morgan nodded, then suddenly ran forward towards the skeletons. Farim grunted in frustration, then tried to follow her. “Right.” Crevecour said, then moved slightly to their right, trying to guard their flank. “If we fall, get out of here.” Ian said over his shoulder, moving to cover Crevecour. Aurora closed her eyes, then calmly let out a breath. She moved a little distance away from the wagon and Josephine, then started to chant words asking Elkorina Worldspirit for aid. Josephine began speaking a different tongue, while weaving her arms in conjunction with controlling and forming magical energy…bringing it to physical form. Morgan met the first few of their undead opponents, the momentum of her charge while swinging her sword caused the first skeleton in her path to be shattered in half. Two others moved in, clawing at her. Farim joined a moment later, the upswing of his axe knocking one of them off the ground and away from Morgan. The two then pushed forward, using brute strength to try to break as many of their enemies as they could. Crevecour swung down on another skeleton’s skull, crushing it underneath as it was trying to move and attack Farim, while Ian was using a large piece of wooden debris as an improvised club, trying to help push the creatures back. Josephine completed her incantation, as a blueish ball of energy form in front of her. She then propelled it forward, destroying a skeleton that managed to move through the rest of the group and was heading towards Aurora. She immediately went back to her previous chanting motions when it fell. Aurora’s own small ritual ended, as she stopped motionless for a second. She moved her arms out to the side, as a slight rumbling was heard ahead of the rest of the combatants. The very ground burst forth with living flora, as various vines mixed with hard ground and rock became animated, and followed the young priestess’ movements, smashing, tangling, and throwing back various skeletons that she could see and manipulate in the area she now controlled. “I’ve always liked the Worldspirit.” Ian said, smiling to himself while crushing another monster underneath his swing. Crevecour received a claw that dug through the armor on his left arm. The follower of the Justicar reacted by delivering a blow from his warhammer. “Clear a path in front of me!” he yelled. With a concentrated push of steel, wood, magical force, and the very ground itself, the adventurers managed to give him just that. Crevecour then reached for his holy symbol, grimacing in pain from his injury as he did so, and proceeded to call forth aid from his patron. A moment later, a golden-white beam descended from the sky, and rapidly spread out over the ground as it hit, basking whatever it covered with the same light. The living felt no pain from this, they even felt a bit of calm and warmth as the light carried over them. The skeletons that were enshrouded by the light were instantly destroyed. The animated forms broken or disintegrated, as their remains fell back to the ground. As quickly as it was brought down, the light then disappeared…the favor called forth completed. The few that were left still pressed forward, only to fall under the group’s weapons and magic. They had no idea that they had lost, they merely obeyed whatever command was imprinted on their undead existence. In the end, it did not matter. When the battle was won, the bloodied and battered assembly met back at the wagon. The combination of Crevecour’s and Aurora’s healing abilities helped repair the injuries sustained. A practical examination of everyone by Aurora made sure there were no natural maladies that could take root after. After being patched up, Ian immediately grabbed another horse and tracked down his original mount. The rest fell in and helped Morgan pick up the remains that were left. A pyre was made in what was the center of Lansby and was set on fire when they made sure there were no other remains or immediate threats in the ruins. The fire blazed quickly, making sure the former inhabitants of the village could no longer be used, while Morgan moved back into the area of the graves. She stopped after searching for a few minutes, then kneeled, reaching out and touching a grave marker over one of the few untouched graves in the former fields of her childhood home. Morgan remained there in silence, as night began in Lansby. The group’s campfire glowed brightly against the darkness, a brief reminder that life once flourished here, as the Smithwest apprentices finished their evening meal and set about getting settled for the evening. The animals were calmer than they were previously that day, which also helped the mood. Morgan volunteered to take the first watch, and moved away from the group when she finished her meal. Aurora observed where she went, then excused herself. Morgan was found outside of the gravesite, just within the furthest reach of the light of their camp. She was leaning against a broken-down fencepost and staring up into the sky when Aurora approached her. “I understand what you meant.” She observed, looking at the clear evening sky, bright with various stars. Morgan nodded. “I buried them all.” She started, not facing Aurora, “When the orc raiders finished their killing…when I was able to come out of hiding. I buried them.” Aurora just nodded. She had no idea what she could say at that moment. “It took days, and when I was finished, I saw some of them coming back over the horizon.”, she shared, shaking her head, “I ran. I ran as far as I could until falling. That was when the Mirithal Elves found me. I was on the edge of their woodlands. They took me in, got me back to health. One was able to speak our tongue and I told him everything.” Morgan briefly paused and took a drink from her waterskin. “Afterwards, they began to train me in their ways, forging me like a sword. Today, I paid them back by making sure no one will hurt my home ever again.” The young priestess of the Worldspirit tried to take in everything that was just told to her. “I don’t know what to say, but I will not share this with anyone else. That is your story to tell them.” Morgan then turned back to Aurora. “Thank you.”, she said, returning her gaze back to the night sky. Aurora joined her again, in silence. The group broke camp the next morning, heading back to the main road that would lead them to Tiderian city. As the group left the outskirts of Lansby, a single figure quietly approached the ruined village from the opposite direction on horseback. He was donned in a suit of metal armor, the color a mix of black and gray. A vicious-looking Morningstar was at his side, and a symbol of Dresdeana…a skull with two downward protruding fangs, no lower jaw, and empty eye sockets, hung at his chest. He stopped just in front of the dust of the pyre near the center of the former community. He removed his helmet, revealing a sunken-in face, colored almost ash gray. His eyes emanated an evil power as he looked around. “My creations, what have the living done to you?”, he asked, addressing the pile of ash before continuing. “They have denied the Maiden Death’s hand. My mistress must now receive payment for this atrocity. The ones that did this shall join her legions in undead servitude as the price.” The man finished, put his helmet back on and returned to where he came from. The steed obeyed him not out of respect but fear…fear of the power that his master wielded and commanded. |
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