[IC] Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

[DMZ]

The human nodded at Keystone as he finished the spell. The elf's skin took on a darker shade of grey, his limbs stiffening.

"Restraining spell," the wizard explained. He gestured to the animated construct, who seemed unaffected by the half orc's powerful incantation. The entity walked over to the fallen elf and lifted the stiff onto one shoulder, keeping hold of the blade in its other hand. Without as much as a word, it started back for the chapel.

The mage kept his guard up around the two, but seemed much more relaxed now that there was no immediate danger. He motioned for the two mercenaries to follow him back into the chapel.

"I ask of you to not touch anything inside, including my friend over there and his blade. You are in no danger, but touching that weapon will put you in much the same predicament as it did him, " he explained, quickly bridging the distance to the door. There was a faint shimmer around him and his mirror image, as if he wasn't entirely corporeal.

The inside of the chapel was surprisingly large, bigger than the outside would suggest. The walls were lined with various shelves full of spell components and potions, and the only furniture aside from that were four empty stone alcoves, covered in dust. They could serve as seats if one was so inclined.

[Sigil]

He really put his foot into it this time, getting involved with spellcasters. At least with thieves or brawlers, you know more or less what you're getting into. One could also make oneself scarce if the situation got overly complicated, too. Wizards, not so much.

It was a bit late to back out anyway, what with their employer both mugged out and ensorceled, picked up by some manner of naked henchman and carried to a church. Not the best footnote to this contract; it looked more and more doubtful that he'd be getting that Letter of Recommendation from Reverin any time soon. Nonetheless, Keystone still felt obligated to see to his physical safety.

"I'd like to keep our mage very nearby, if you please. I don't trust him, but he is my charge." started Keystone, "And I don't particularly trust you just yet, either."

Upon entering the chapel, he declined to sit, but continued, "I'd like it if you'd answer the Knight's question from outside, before we got all chummy. Bloody 'ell is going on here? And why's your bodyguard all puckered and untucked?"

[knighthawk]

Were the situation different, Raa and keystone would be having it out. But there had been too little information and too muck distaste for him to stop the attack on their own mage. The sense of evil from the elemental, the dead cleric, the undead raised...It did not bode well.

He took a seat on what looked like it could hold his weight and looked to tho was his enemy mere moments before. THe scythe rested in its crook on his ankheg armor as he looked over everything with his heightened vision or dark places. One wizad for another still did not bode well, but at least this one was willing to talk in a more civilized manner.

"Explain, please. Who is he, who are you, and what is he to you?"

[DMZ]

"That is understandable, my friend," replied the wizard as he too found a place to sit inside the chapel. His guardian set down the immobile mage next to Keystone with a loud *clunk*, suggesting the elf was much heavier than he appeared. An observant onlooker would have noticed that tiny fragments of the elf's robes broke off, as if they were frozen or made of stone. Without as much as a grunt, the figure moved to the remaining alcove, planted the sword into the ground between its legs and closed what was left of its eyes, resting its palms on the pommel. The inscription on the sword faded a moment after, giving the blade a cold appearance.

The human mage looked around the room, inspecting the two fighters yet again.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Erepar Havran, a wizard of no small power around these parts. I spend my days forging and enchanting weapons and other items, along with examination of existing artifacts. It's a hard and costly job, but I manage to just get by," he began, wiping sweat from his forehead that wasn't there a moment ago. "I didn't know who Reverin was until a few months ago, when I was tasked with examining the blade you see my thin friend holding. It's considerable power made him the way he is today, as it drains life just as much as it gives one power. A marvelous piece of magic and craftsmanship, but also a very dangerous weapon. His, erm, current clothing situation is a side effect, as any robes I manage to put on, dissolve the next day due to some strange...acid, was it?...oozing from his skin."

The wizard coughed a few times, now seeming much older and more exhausted than he was outside.

"The situation with him started when word got out that I was holding an item of such power. Whether due to greed, or on orders of someone else, Reverin has been hiring, coercing, forcing and otherwise trying to get a hold of the blade. Fortunately, he has not been successful, in large part due to your bravery today. I'm afraid that is as simple as it gets. Now that you've given me the chance, he will no longer be a problem to me or anyone else in this town. I think it's for the best, really.
As such, I must ask that you do not touch or try to steal the blade. Not only would it cost me and my friend our lives, its owner will find you and inflict much worse fates than death onto anyone who touches it. I'm sure you understand. You're also free to leave at any time, though I must insist that you do not mention to anyone what has happened here tonight, or anything I have told you, for the sake of your own lives."

Erepar gazed around the room with a glassy countenance, as if inviting further questions from either fighter.

[Sigil]

"Concerning what happens to Reverin," began Keystone in what he referred to as his Business Voice, "and what I'm willing to go along with, I'm going to have to confer with my learn-ed colleague on the matter before I commit to an action. What's that you intend to do with him?"

While there was no love for the Elf on the floor, the phrase "he will no longer be a problem to me or anyone else in this town" sounded rather troublesome. Hell, he may deserve to be strung up by his still attached entrails for all Keystone knew, but he wasn't ready to give him over to that kind of justice just yet. He turned to his companion, and followed up in a low voice, "We're in one 'ell of a state right yet, Raa. You knew him before I did, what's your take? Law folk generally take umbrage with them that make dead things walk, I'm given to understand."

He looked at Erepar, then the naked sword-wielding creature, to the floor at Reverin, then back to Erepar. He wondered for a moment what his life would have been like if he had concentrated on more culinary pursuits.

[DMZ]

"Since you are now out of a job and likely unpaid, I would have some work for you. I doubt I can pay as much as Reverin here could, but it's better than nothing. It's not going to be safe, that much is certain, " Erepar added, his voice more sickly with every word.

[knighthawk]

Raa had much to consider and so he explained himself to what he hoped were more sympathetic ears.

"I am a paladin to an elven goddess, therefor I accept how things are never as they appear. I came to the town looking for the usual damsels in distress and the like and came upon a wizards tower with a woman being set upon by undead. Without asking I tried to come to her aid and met blows with an earth elemental who had a seed of deepest evil within it. We lost another against that wizards wards. I could sense the absolute evil in the elemental, but that man I could sense nothing.

His actions spoke down to others and were dismissive at best. No I did not trust him, but I thought to undo whatever ill he had planned next. I guess it worked, in a way. I don't know either of you three any better, but at merest of meets, you stand above the one made to stone over there."

He felt better to speak his mind and looked to the others for their reaction and listened with an open mind for guidance

"As for pay, I would rather be morally rewarded over mere gold. But, now that he is attended to, perhaps his tower is worth revisiting to see about its contents. If you are merely lead by gold, keystone."

[Sigil]

Keystone considered the Paladin's words, and thoughtfully began, "It's not gold what motivates my hesitation just now. If I had to lay my hand on something, it'd be a hangaround sense of obligation. Whilst I was choking the poor bastich out, I told him I wouldn't let him come to any hurt. Buy us some time to talk without anyone getting dead."

"Don't get me wrong, gold's a right lovely motivator. Let's talk about that more in a bit. I can see the pull his tower would bring, but I think the two of us are I'll-equipped by our lonesome to go rummaging without getting hit by lightning or turned into a newt or given 'orrible, nightmare-inspirin' flatulence."

He looked to Erepar, noting the wizard's growing distress. "You look like you'd rather have a longer talk later. What do you want to do now?"

[DMZ]

Erepar was dead tired, and looked at Keystone with a sense of gratitude and strangely, alarm, when the warrior mentioned not hurting the elf. Had he not noticed, or was this an odd joke? As they spoke about the elf's tower, an idea formed in the wizard's mind. He rose and walked over to a few odd shelves, rummaging around as he continued to listen in on the conversation. Shortly after the warriors were done discussing, he found what he was looking for. A single step took him back to his 'seat', in his hand a slender wand. He offered it to the half orc:

"I sense the divine magic around you, so you must know how to use wands. If you wish to travel back to Reverin's tower, this wand can help you dispel the wards around it. Perhaps you will find enough inside to satisfy your hiring costs. Perhaps you will find nothing of use. He's also still wearing that ring of his, it's yours if you want it. I have no need of such cursed items."

He perked up on the stone seat, listening to something inaudible to the rest. Then, the wizard's face twisted into a mask of horror as he realized. He jolted up, as if shocked by lightning, and started pushing the two newcomers out of the chapel:
"You have to go, now! Take the wand and the elf if you must, but leave this place and don't come back!"

[Sigil]

Keystone sighed heavily and quickly reviewed his options. Advocating for a mage-shaped block of stone seemed a touch pointless at this juncture. Almost as pointless as hauling a mage-shaped block of stone back through a populated area in the middle of the night. It seemed a good enough time to let the bonds of contractual obligation lapse and go with the flow of events laid out before him.

Erepar, tired though he was, sprang to action and began shoving two very large persons toward the door, seemingly without regard to personal safety. Seemed a good flow to go with. It was quite possible that this was a ruse, but after the evening he'd had, honestly, it was time to call it a night. Or very near to.

Just prior to submitting to the wizard's choice of direction, Keystone held up a finger and quickly bent down to retrieve Reverin's ring, as Erepar had very wisely suggested earlier. Then hauled himself and his new shiny toward the door.

So yes, with minimum fuss, Keystone exited the building. He glanced back at Raa, shook his head slightly, and politely inquired, "Get that wand, did you? Mayhaps we can find further information about this tawdry mess back at his place like what you suggested earlier?"

He stared blankly into the night, listening to crickets (and whatever else may be lurking) as he walked from the chapel. "Hell of a night, eh?"

[DMZ]

The ring in the hands of Keystone buzzed with so much magical energy that even someone with no knowledge of anything magical would be able to feel its power. No doubt many enchantments laid in it, but they were not apparent to the fighter just yet.

Reverin's tower stood empty, and the mage's untimely demise had lowered some of the wards that depended on his lifeforce, but many others guarded the tower yet. He had not had the time to fix the two holes in the warded fence, and if inspected closely, one could swear the air was clearer and easier to see through.

The town of Two Stars was drifting off into sleep. Shops closed, candles were extinguished, and many a patron of a local bordello went upstairs with a paid for mistress for the night. On the walls of the town, guards strolled back and forth, keeping watch over the horizon and the misty outskirts. A heavy mist was drifting down the plains that day, moving northeast from Thay. In but an hour, it would blanket the town, hopefully bringing a little refreshment during the morning.

"Derrick, what's that over there, in the mist?" a fresh recruit poked a sleeping one. Derrick looked at what he was supposed to see, and his sleepyness washed over like he'd just had a cold shower.
" Sound the alarms! The city is under attack!"

An hour later, the cold mist crawled over the empty battlements.

[Sigil]

"Ey, look over there." the large man muttered to his knightly compatriot. "Looks like someone pissed on an anthill, eh?"

Looking at Reverin's tower, and the possible way in, Keystone decided that it was best to give a quick scout inside first. The soldiery was all up-in-arms about something, that's for sure, and one or two more bodies won't do a whole lot of good at the wall. One or two more bodies with magical goodies would do a bit better. If they couldn't do better, at least they would know an excellent spot in which to hole up.

<ahem> A potentially profitable place in which to hole up.

"I think we needs to peep the inside of this place first, Raa. Soldiers are doing soldier work, maybe we can 'elp the common folk out after this rock's tossed, y'think?"

Keystone recovered his pack and made for the hole in the fence. Setting his teeth, he maneuvered inside.

[DMZ]

The monk passed the protective barrier without incident, barring some minor buzzing and light crackling on his skin.

Reverin's tower wasn't particularly impressive on the inside; the only room of note was the one at the top, the wizard's quarters. A simple bed on one side of the room, dozens of shelves all around, filled with various potions and scrolls. A sink somehow fit inside the entire mess, and a tiny mirror was buried in the wall. Below the sink was a small, barely visible cubby, with a small dagger, some scrolls and bracers inside. It was covered by a similar shimmering found outside on the fence.

The room at the top of the tower was much larger than the tower would let on from the outside, but small enough to feel very cramped with one person.

Outside, faint screams could be heard from the town, as an unknown threat descended upon it.

[Sigil]

"Hmm... I thought we had more time."

Keystone motioned to Raa, and then to the barrier around the cubby. No words were exchanged in the process, both men obviously were concerned about the screams of the townspeople outside. The Paladin seemed especially anxious to finish business here and proceed where he was needed. Erepar's wand made short work of the magic protecting the spoils of a very peculiar evening. The human was the first one in, inspecting and distributing the goodies therefrom.

"Taking your leave, good Sir Knight, I'll be hangin' on to these bracers. Magic or no, they'll be of help blocking without slowing me down." He held out the dagger to his newly stoic comrade, who appeared to have a touch of judgement in his eyes. True, it's not the most heroic act - rummaging through treasure while an unknown threat neared their location, quite possibly consuming innocents along the way. Keystone sighed, tucking the smallish weapon into his belt. "I'll hang onto it until you ask then, right? If you would please, take a look at these scrolls while I stash my pack. We can peek back by later and peruse this place at our leisure, after the panicky part's done."

Not certain when or if he'd have a chance to eat anytime again soon, Keystone grabbed some dried fruit and meat from his pack, sampled a bit and secured the rest on his person. Another bundle of foodstuffs was offered to Raa as they prepared to depart. "Read anything interesting in those bits of paper? Otherwise, let's see what's causing that row outdoors, eh?"

Keystone slowly opened the exterior door and scanned the town before him.

"Well, that's new."

[DMZ]

The3 screaming in the village had stopped, restoring the quiet once more. The cold mist covered it completely, freezing houses and ponds wherever it went. From the grey clouds came shambling figures, walking, limping or dragging their way uphill towards the mage's tower. In the distance, near the chapel, the occasional flash of lightning or a fireball could be see, shortly followed by a shock- and soundwave.

The horde of shambling figures rapidly reached and surrounded Reverin's tower. The wards on the fence did their work to good effect, destroying many of the figures after but a single touch, but they were rapidly getting weaker as more and more pushed in. The weaker parts of the shielding soon vanished completely, a bunch of corpses falling inside the perimeter to continue their way towards the tower.

A much larger figure emerged from the ranks of the undead. Easily mistaken for a large knight from afar, the figure had no face when one saw it up close. Clad in ancient armour and wielding a massive two handed sword with a glowing inscription on the field, the figure stepped through the wards in the fence with nary a flinch, lightning arcing across the metal and into its long white beard.

When it saw Keystone, the figure hefted its massive sword with one arm, pointing it at the monk:

"You stole my Kaylee. You will die."

[Sigil]

There was nothing they could have done, even if they were front row and center to the coming terror. It didn’t matter. This was why the guards were a flurry of activity, and then simply gone. Perhaps they were in the ranks of the fallen, clawing their way to surround the tower the two of them had just finished looting. The key observation here being surround. There seemed no means of egress. This was dying ground.

From the ranks of corpses came a single knightish figure, promising oblivion if he were lucky, and servitude in a carcass husk otherwise. For the first time in what seemed an eternity, an emotion held every corner of himself, caressed the core of his identity.

Fear.

Palpable and real, threatening to overwhelm. It’s a strange thing, fear. It destroys you. Makes you weak. Takes away your will. Simultaneously a thing which keeps you alive and removes hope.

Fear also strips away everything about you that is false, leaving a naked and transparent view into the psyche. It makes the unobvious plain and true. Keystone faced the certainty of his own demise, and the realization was chilling. For all of his bluster and bravado, claims of professionalism and codes of honor, in that moment he knew in his soul that they were lies. He had broken promises without regret, told untruths about himself for the prospect of employment doing what he did best. He told others, and told himself the same lies until everyone believed them, including himself.

It seemed trivial at this juncture, foolish even. But if he stood right then, face to un-face with the creature destined to separate him from this world, he needed to go out with a clear conscience. Hell, it may even be a downright honorable way to go. He’d seen people die in worse ways. He’d made people die in worse ways. Fear made him honest with himself and set him free to be that person, if only for a last few, precious moments.

Keystone was no mercenary, at least not of any experience. He was no hero, either. He was a talented and hardened pugilist, plain and simple. He was a tavern bouncer. A pit brawler, though masterful at his craft. He was a tall pile of muscle and sarcasm. He was Johnathon Fucking Keystone, protector of the common man, warrior of the slums, beater of wholesale arse. We probably wasn’t such a good man, but he had done good things for others. Knowing this, really knowing this, opened him up to so much more. Honest pride in his accomplishments, even though they were nothing epic. Bards wouldn’t sing this man’s praises after his passing, but the odd courtesan made safe by his actions may light a candle for him. Drinks would be raised to remember the man, certainly. And this was good enough. He was good enough. He had never felt more in touch with himself, or the earth beneath his feet, than he did in that moment.

He was a Bouncer. And Bouncers chased out the riffraff.

“I’m afraid I don’t know no’one name of Kaylee there, Sunshine.”

It wasn’t a lie. He glanced over to the Paladin, to see his comrade surveying the field for advantage. No way out, back to the building seemed as good as any option. Keystone stuck his hands in his pockets, and pulled out two huge sets of brass knuckles, mottled and engraved with runes of presently unknown origin. They seemed to compliment his new bracers well, he realized before continuing,

“You’re causin’ a disturbance, sir. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to sod off.”

[DMZ]

The large figure let out a deep laugh that resonated all the way through its being, as if it was hollow on the inside.

"I do like my opponents in a cocky mood. Were the circumstances different, I would have let you go on account of making me laugh, but unfortunately, they are as they are. You may have not even realized it, but by being near Kaylee, you sapped some of her life essence into your being. Life essence I will need back if I am to ever bring her back from her entrapment, " it mused. The inscription on the blade vividly pulsated, as if somehow responding to the undead knight's words.

"Seeing as we have few ways of removing one's life essence that don't involve the death of the carrier, I am genuinely sorry I must do this. If you have ever loved and lost someone, then spent every day of your life and death to bring them back, you would understand." The knight drove its sword into the ground, tapping the pommel with his fingers. The undead ranks around him, including some townsfolk Keystone knew, advanced towards the tower.

As big as the number of minions was, they were not infinite in number, and experienced warriors could see that the ring surrounding them was at best, five to six corpses deep. The hillside beyond the ring was clear and unobstructed.

Glith considered the two warriors with a mix of compassion and humour. If they provided a good fight, he could resurrect them to use and converse with later, and if they did not, there seemed to be no shortage of magic items on their person. The most important thing was the presence he felt within the larger, burlier human, that was very familiar, but nothing like the man himself. What worried the undead was that the presence grew stronger within the man, and weaker within the sword. Glith would grind his teeth if he had muscles to do it with.

Within Keystone, a foreign feeling manifested itself. It didn't impair him in any way, but it certainly wasn't part of his character. As the seconds passed, it grew stronger and stronger, until finally a quiet echo resonated in his mind:

"Help me...run"

[Sigil]

Keystone didn't particularly appreciate a voice in his head prompting him to do things. He'd had voices in his head telling him to do things in the past; it became traumatic almost instantaneously. Most especially when he discovered to whom the voice belonged. But these were issues from days long past. This one seemed different.

Their situation, at first seeming insurmountable, now had a glimmer of hope in the details. The undead Knight hadn't moved since he jammed his sword into the earth. He'd spoken a bit, but that dark sword still stood partially embedded in the ground. Point one.

The ranks of the dead weren't without limit. A thinner section of their ranks could be breakable, easily if they had a person capable of channeling divine power to turn them aside. Point two.

The voice in his head requested help, and for them to withdraw. This might mean a plan that wasn't entirely suicidal. Pride or honor may prevent Raa from withdrawing in the face of an evil undead enemy, demand that it be faced down. That would have to wait for another time; it was hopeful that the Knight could withdraw with honor considering the overwhelming opposition, plus the call for help elsewhere.

The corpse swarm took down most of Reverin's wards, and the big guy himself made a hole when his army of walking bones parted to let him through. They might not be a match for the undead Knight, but they could easily make a hole elsewhere, provided they could slow their primary antagonist down.

Keystone listened to the thrum of the ground, the very heartbeat of the earth, and requested a small favor of it: Tighten around the sword, hold it fast. Curl around the shape of the blade and become as stone. Keep it from moving, just for as long as it took clear the ground. Buy them time. It was a rare event for the large man to call upon the earth. Even when he did, it was generally something innocuous and subtle. Obvious would make him a target. Subtle would save their skin.

As the horde began to advance on their position, the paladin, still partway inside the door, poised to charge. Keystone, eyes never leaving the enemy, addressed Raa in low tones, "Please, I need you to trust me. We have to leave here, someone needs our help. Grab my pack just inside the door, and get ready to break through the same way we came in."

Gathering courage, Keystone breathed the word most lately added to his vocabulary, "Arcos", while both the fighter and paladin charged for a down point in the wards, perpendicular to the position of the monstrous entity with the booming, hollow laugh.

Raa opened himself to his divine connection, exclaiming with all the piety he could muster, "MAKE A HOLE, GRAVESPAWN!".

Keystone glanced to his companion quizzically, just prior to growling and colliding his fists against the remaining wall of animated bone.

[DMZ]

Glith chuckled as he saw exactly what the two were planning, blasting a massive hole in his army as they charged. With all the grace of a practioned magic user, he cast Haste upon himself and charged towards the pair, sword in hand. What struck the undead as odd is that he didn't actually move. Kaylee was stuck in the ground, and no amount of tugging would get the sword out of the ground. If anything, the blade *wanted* to be buried. Putting many a sailor to shame with his language, the cleric cast dispel magic and pulled the blade free, only to see his two opponents far in the field, his undead army chasing them as slow as undead went.

Downhill from the two running men, at the city gates, the captain of the garrison was loading up citizens into a caravan set to depart west as soon as everyone was on board. Busy coordinating the process, he didn't notice the two men running down until one of the guards shouted that there were more survivors followed by an undead horde and something even bigger. The guards leveled their magical bows and let loose a barrage of arrows, striking down many of the undead and staggering the unusually fast giant undead. Other guards ran towards the pair, shouting 'Hurry!' as they valiantly put themselves between the approaching horde and the two men.

As the men got close to the caravan, the captain yelled for them to get on and hurry as he too stepped away to form a human wall between the caravan and the approaching undead.

The presence within Keystone grew even more and was now noticeable to even the untrained mind, though it did not hinder the monk in any way. On the other side of the battlefield, the inscription on the large two handed sword faded in mid swing, saving a guard from immediate decapitation as the blade became unusually heavy in the knight's hands. The undead knight growled and punched through the poor man's face, before charging head on to the captain.

[Sigil]

Keystone stopped to take a breath behind the phalanx of guardsmen. Ordinarily this was not his way, taking refuge behind others in times of crisis, but he was under the distinct impression that we was being singled out for something more important than challenging the living dead to a fistfight.

While he had some experience dealing with intercranial visitors, this particular room in the Chateau Keystone having been fairly recently vacated, this presence seemed different from the last one. Possibly more benign, but this remained to be verified. Remembering his preferred method of communication when surrounded by injured, scared, and possibly paranoid survivors of an undead assault, Keystone concentrated on articulating words and feelings internally.

"Ok, we have a moment. If you can hear this, who are you, what the bloody hell is going on here, and why did you choose my noggin to declare Sanctuary? I need to know why it's so damnedably important, or I'm charging right back in there to give those guards a hand."