Suddenly, Victor realizes someone is charging towards him, and spins to see another Gravebound with its weapon drawn and hate in it's eyes. Victor smiles broadly. "Oh, fortune shines on me t'day! Not even an hour and I've already got meself a fight!" The former Belisairan drops his helmet and pulls his rusted morningstar, brandishing it at the one charging at him.
Thunk, thunk, thunk....The repetitive sound fills Bernd's consciousness. It seems to have done so for eternity. Vision focuses from a grey fog to reveal an axe, being swung repeatedly into a tree. Shudders of resistance travel up the haft and into arms. His own arms. But why were they so grey and shriveled?
The thunking stops as Bernd lowers the axe and looks around. He's standing at the edge of a vast clearing in the forest. As far as he can see behind him, the ground is littered with stumps. Every so often a huge pile of split logs or boards can be seen. He looks down at the axe in his withered hands. The blade is so dull it resembles a hammer, and the handle is splintered and nearly broken. Did I do all this work? Why don't I feel anything? Suddenly he hears a even greater THUNK in his mind, accompanied by the briefest instant of sharp pain. Then he was looking up at his own neck stump, as a warm rain of his own blood came down onto his face. I'm dead. More faint, cloudy memories creep back, something reattaching his head, handing him an axe. Chopping wood, night and day, rain and shine without end. They used to come and collect the products of his labor, but then they stopped. How long have I been doing this? The axe clatters to the ground, groping hands climb mummified arms to skuttle across a wooden, stiff chest and finally come to rest on Bernd's dry, skull-like visage. I've got to get back to Nalvallen!
Turning on one heel, Bernd begins to run back to the town. He follows his own trail of destruction. He runs for days through the swath of chopped down wood, each passing second increases his rage and resentment. Even in death I'm doomed to chop wood for people. Someone's gonna die for this........At least I don't get tired or hungry anymore. I can see in the dark too.
Finally, the ruins of Nalvallen appear over the crest of a hill. He's lost count of exactly how many suns and moons have come since he started running, but now that he's arrived it seems unimportant. Spotting various corpses trailing towards the center of town where a small group is forming, he trots in that direction.
Once close, he recognizes Victor by his armor. "Hey, I died trying to save you!" he says, pointing at the large thing. "You two were there too!" He adds, pointing to Varus and Kobayashi. "What in the hells is going on?"
Victor looks up, temporarily distracted by another newcomer. He lowers his weapon, looking at Bernd curiously. "Oh, another one. Kinda fishy how we're all wakin' up t'day," the unliving von Ulmen speaks, his arms resting at his sides, and a bored look on his face.
"Waking up? I found myself chopping wood. Pretty sure I've been doing that for years. What happened to you?"
Victor laughs, a strange sound coming from the gaping hole in his throat as he does so. "Me? I've been dead, I s'pose. Found meself clawing out of the ground. Really, just like a dog, but in reve-" he begins, gesturing with his weapon, before realizing that the other Gravebound had apparently stopped charging him, standing with his weapon drawn roughly ten feet away. "Oi, you. What's your problem? If ya ain't got any fight in ya, then I ain't interested in ya, either." Victor returns his weapon to his belt, and shrugs in disinterest, before crossing his arms as he turns back to Bernd.
"So anyways, somethin' strange is goin' on. Me and the sneaky one o'er here," Victor gestures to Kobayashi, "both feel like we're missin' something, inside. And somehow, I get th' feelin' that me, and the rest of ya, are all like this f'r the same reason." He clutches at his armored arms, a look of distaste passing over his face. "Choppin' wood ya say? Better 'an bein' a corpse in the ground, I s'pose, but not by much."
Rumha watches the dead rise from the remains of Belisaire with interest - a sight that would have horrified him yesterday. Well, 'yesterday' from his perspective.
He sees them migrate, like schooling fish, towards the town center. Having nowhere better to go, no solid plans, and the same curiosity he possessed while breathing... He joins the slowly moving throng.
As Ruma comes into view with the other shuffling dead, Bernd calls out "Oi! You're that priest was with us before. Come here!"
Ewen studies Kobayashi and Victor for a moment.
He nods towards victor:
"Well, you're that big fella that decided to charge right into town center, I remember that much. Not the smartest move."
More of the gravebound arive and Ewen follows the conversation closely.
"Missing something? Well look at you... Victor, that was your name right? You look severely beaten up, and you lost some weight too"
Turning to Kobayashi, Bernd and Varus:
"The rest of you, I have not seen before, but you all sure look... forgive my words... awful. Decayed. You sure don't look lively."
"Does any of you by chance have a mirror? I want to... well, maybe not want, but I need to see what happened to me. Look at this charred black skin. Looks like I've walked through a huge pyre and made it out the other side. I wonder what happened to us, and why... I intend to find out. It seems we've all been in this town fighting off these attackers. What were they anyways?"
"I don't have a mirror, but it looks like they burned you to death. Demons? Devils? Something worse? Who cares, lets find them and kill them. We should do a systematic search of the ruins, see if we can find anything informative or useful."
Varus recognizes the big brute and stops.
he is an undead? he looks more intelligent than most mindless zombies, strange...
Unsure of what to do he attempts to communicate.
"Hey, you look, familiar. Well your armour does. You're that crazy bastard that got everyone killed that day!"
Seeing other equally terrible looking men come towards them Varus stopped talking. He recognized a few of them too, in the way you would recognize you're grandmother if you dug her up after 10 or 20 years...
When they started talking he just listened. Confused. They were all undead and they weren't attacking him...
Digging into his pack he pulls out his small shaving mirror.
"Here." He tossed the mirror to Ewen, not wanting to get to close.
Something in his mind was ticking over and he didnt want to think about it.
Ewen catches the mirror and uses it to examine his face. He just stares at his reflection for a moment.
"Uhm... so this is me... Oh my. I never was handsome, but I dare say this is worse than before."
Handing the mirror back to Varus:
"You should look at yourself, you're kind of... moldy? What's your name by the way?"
Turning around again:
"I agree that we should search this place for anything useful, I had just begun to do that myself."
"I'm Bernd. Lets split up into two groups and meet back here when we're finished? Each group could take half the town."
At first, it was like a pin dropping. A short, sharp experience which suddenly flared into life. Jethro's consciousness flooded back into his body and by reflex he drew a rasping breath.
It died halfway into his throat. He remembered. Everything. Looking around, he couldn't see the beast that had consumed his mind, nor the corpses that had followed it.
"Interesting," he rasped, noting his voice sounded exceedingly wrong. His intelligence detached him from his emotion and he quickly came to the conclusion he was undead and from the state of his surroundings years or perhaps even decades had passed. It appeared that his bones had been thrown back together and he had risen as some kind of skeletal zombie hybrid. With a flick of his wrist, he cast prestidigitation.
'It appears my arcane faculties are still correct,' he mused, although he noted a shadowy tinge to his magic. He looked up and around; he needed to find those with whom he had died so they could figure out what had happened.
"Err... I'm Varus th..." he cut himself off, "just Varus."
last time i followed these guys i ended up dead...
no no no! I'm not dead, I can't be... just bumped my head.
Varus looked at himself in his mirror and saw how disguisting he looked.
He didn't want to believe it.
If i find a priest then he can help me. what they said makes sense though. If they think i'm one of them then maybe I can find out a couple things before I get out of here.
"I thought undead were mindless?"
"Hey, you look, familiar. Well your armour does. You're that crazy bastard that got everyone killed that day!"
Victor scoffs at the man's accusation, but doesn't look particularly offended by it. "I ne'er told ya t' follow me." He continues to cross his arms, looking on dispassionately as the others discuss things.
I'da busted 'is jaw f'r that one when I was still kickin'... I ain't sure if I like or hate not bein' able to feel nothin'. But if whate'er did this t' me took away me ability to enjoy a fight, I'mma kick its door down and stomp a mile wide path through e'erything it e'er loved... he thinks ruefully, his claws almost scraping against his armor with how hard he is squeezing his decayed fists.
"I thought undead were mindless?"
von Ulmen shrugs. "I s'pose there's no better proof that some ain't than righ' here, huh?" Shifting his stance again, the oracle gestures around to the dessicated city and the now-returning Gravebound. "Looks like there's a lot o' things that turned out diff'rent than we expected."
The Gravebound man points at Rumha, "You're wit' me, lad. The rest of you, take th' other half o' the city." Victor stoops down to retrieve his helmet, putting it on his head and beginning to lead the other man off towards the western part of town.
"Fine by me, but splitting up two and five seems a little odd. Maybe I should come with you as well to make it three and four?"
Soon after Cedric's death the fiend left and the ravens descended from the trees, picking out his eyes. They didn't get to do much more as something or someone knocked Cedric's lifeless body over, free from the soil and into the river. The waters dragged him along, fish nibbling on him as he passes. He was dragged along for days, hitting rocks and almost being fished out by a bear. Eventually he was deposited in a peat bog.
There he laid for years, untouched by ravaging beasts or rot.
Now, almost 20 years later the bog stirred.
He shivered. The water was cold and it was dark. Vague memories flooded his mind. Happiness at the apparent survival of his family and then horror at the memory of the fiend that killed him. Killed him. Shocked by by the thought Cedric suddenly sat up, his torso freed from the peat that covered him for so many years. He was dead, killed by some horrible monster, yet here he sat, underwater no less. He wasn't drowning though, how does something that's already dead drown anyway? A smile appeared on his face. He tried to look at his hands and arms but the dark, murky waters, made worse by the flakes of peat he stirred up, denied him sight. Without much further ado he rose up and started walking to where he saw the light.
Standing on shore was a little more difficult than standing under water in the stagnant bog as attested by his wobbly gait during the first few steps. Somehow his bones were a little more flexible than they should have been. Now, in the light of the early morning sun, he looked at his hands. They were black and leathery, skin pulled tight over what remained of bone and sinew. There were some gaps in his skin but the flesh underneath was just as black. Cedric felt more surprised than anything. What a bog can do to a body. For a moment he had no idea what to do but then he remembered being dragged downstream by the river and deposited here. He wasn't quite sure how he knew, since that was after the fiend, but it was what had happened. So he walked, first to the river and then up stream.
Walking there took longer than the time the river had needed to drag him along. During the weeks it took him he had time to think, reflect on what had happened. He had been killed but he was walking and pretty much alive, in a manner of speaking. Something or someone had done that, but why? There had been no one present when he crawled out of the mire. Besides, why would anyone do this? Kick him when he's down? In the inns in the city he had heard rumors of people raising the dead in far away countries, but those had done it to increase their own power. That wasn't an option here since there hadn't been anyone else. Eventually he came to the conclusion that whatever it was that caused this, the graceful thing was to have let his corpse be a corpse and nothing more. Yet his mother always told him not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so all that was left now was to somehow make the best of the situation.
Eventually he arrived at the spot where he had died. It must have been ages ago as there were no traces. Well, except a rusted blade sticking out of the sand, damaged beyond repair. the handle was scorched, the leather burnt away. That was it. The fiend had hit him in the back with some sort of flame, the coward, and then dragged him ashore and placed him in the sand as a sort of grizzly decoration.
As he stood there, angered by the memories of his death, a raven descended and landed on his shoulder. At first he tried to shoo it away but the raven only made a circle in the air and landed on his other shoulder. After several more failed attempts to get rid of the bird a grin appeared on Cedric's face. Stubborn bird. "Fine, you can stay. Just don't start eating bits and pieces of me." The bird cawed as if in agreement.
Suddenly he remembered how he had ended up here. He had been looking for his parents and brothers and then something, the thing that killed him, began to hunt him. The attack must have been ages ago, with all the wear on this place, so maybe the city had recovered? Maybe his family had come back? They probably didn't want to see him like he was now but he still had to figure out if they were ok. And if they new about his poor sister and her husband. That had been tragic. He once again started walking.
The moment he turned towards where the city ought to be he saw what looked like a field where crops ought to grow, yet there was nothing. Cedric decided to check out the building but found nothing. No sign of it's inhabitants nor any animals. All he found was what probably had been a brand new scythe when the farm was abandoned. A little test on the weeds around the house proved that it in fact was still sharp as it had been before, it just needed cleaning. Having been forced to leave his old blade by the river due to it being rusted by the river's waters, Cedric decides to instead pick this blade up. Just in case. It also somehow seemed strangely appropriate, matching with some people depicted Death itself.
With his feathered companion on his shoulder and his new blade slung over the other Cedric started walking towards the city. It wasn't long before he was confronted with what he had dreaded: ruins. The city was no more. Still determined to find out what had happened to his family, and to the rest of the city, he walked in.
Once within city limits Cedric soon discovered he wasn't the only one that had risen again. Most were moving towards the center of town but there was a small congregation of several walking and talking corpses and he decided to approach. "Good day, or bad, depending how you look at it I guess. Does anyone of you have any idea what happened?"
To answer questions, the other thousand or so Nalvallen citizens are also rising from their graves. They are capable of speech and are intelligent (8-10 Int) as they were in life. Right now though, they seem mostly attracted by the eight of you and usually shuffle behind you.
As time passes though they begin to act more and more independently. Some break down and scream, some weep, others take their own lives again. Some seem to accept this change.
Feel free to choose where you want to go, this part of the campaign is your awakening. Nalvallen, the farmlands and other towns can all be visited.
What has happened, what can be done and where did the daemons go are probably all questions on your minds.
After exploring the western half of the town with Rumha, Victor returns to the center of town to rendezvous with the others. Having found very little beyond the fact that all the dead citizens of Nalvallen are returning, the huge undead man shambles back into the town square, a look of disinterest underneath his helmet's mask. "Didn't find nothin.' You?"
Having no better ideas, Rumha searches a portion of the town with the massive warrior. He makes a point of visiting the town center to look for clues that might reveal who destroyed the town.
"Alright, whoever's coming to the eastern half of the town with me." Bernd says, jogging off to search. He will enter every building and search every corpse.
everyone is waking up?
Varus climbs the largest mound of rubble or building still standing he can find. Trying to count everyone.
Looks like the whole village has returned. Perhaps a thousand or more.
He takes out his sword and looks it over. Examining the rust. At least ten years of wear, most likely more he can't be sure.
I can't be... Who did this to us?
Varus retrieves his whetstone and does his best to clean and bring his sword back into proper working order. After this he stands up again, at risk of stating the obvious.
"Seems like the whole town is returning!"
Not sure where to go he watches the others search the town and wonders what is left of the world outside of it.
Perception(take 20 = 25) otherwise.
Half way down the other side of the rubble he sees a wide brim hat similar to his old one but not the same. Picking it up he puts it on. He feels more human with it on, resembling his old ranger self more.
Ewen gazes after Victor taking off and mumbles to no one in particular:
"Isn't that just awfully rude? Ignoring a question directed at him and just walking away... Whatever, he doesn't seem to be the brightest."
He turns to the rest:
"Since this does not seem to be a team effort, I'll just be that way and see what I can come up with."
Without waiting for a response he struts off towards the northeastern part of town, thoroughly searching for anything usable.
Perception:
Remembering Bernd's tendency to ask questions and then immediately walk away, a smile comes to he now lipless jaws. "I guess undeath doesn't change everyone." he says, as he joins Bernd at a similar pace. Once they reach a more relaxed pace, he will attempt to engage the population to gather their experiences and possible knowledge about the attack and their resurrection.
With all of them ignoring him Cedric decides it's time to check out whether his sister and brother in law have also risen. He struts off, not even looking back. After that it would be time to check on his parents and brother but he doubted they were in town and hoped they were somewhere safe.
Not feeling like there is anything interesting in town except for a horde of undead, Varus heads out to inspect the outskirts and walls. Then the surrounding countryside for life.
On the subject of what happened, it is obvious that the disaster that occured so long ago was the cause of the ruin of Belisaire. The realm is ruined, udderly devastated. Everything natural seems dead and decayed, scorched earth covers the region and every settlement is the same... death and undeath.
However, Varus, you notice something strange after a few days of travel westward. Where Belisaire would be adjacent to Middenford, rises a massive wall of shining stone. I'm assuming you hide. If so, you can spot humans patrolling the top of the walls.
On the subject of equipment discovered, assume you find 1,000 gp each of gear (can be magical). I realize I hadn't had time to provide any beforehand.
As for experiences, from the slowly awaking citizenry, you understand that the lot of them suffered quite a hell. The town slowly gathers in the center of town over the days, and a prominent Gravebound by the name of Cazal seems to be gathering a large number of them. The man himself keeps a few gravebound around and have taken to wearing gray covered robes. They tend to keep to themselves aside from the talks they have with the group.
A few days pass and Cazal approaches each of you, asking you all to attend a meeting in the center of town this evening.
Victor shuffles into the town square, his newly found armor looking a bit rusted and ill-fitting for the over-sized undead man. A mighty hammer is hooked to his back with rope, gleaming with a blue sheen in the light.
The oracle moves to look for Cazal, his dispassionate gaze moving from one Gravebound to another. "Oi! Where's Cazal? I'm here, jus' like ya asked!" the man shouts, obviously impatient.
Bernd will attend the meeting touting the new gear he found. Glad I did that search. The greatsword and armor in the smithy are great, better than anything I ever had in life. The lock on the chest was just rusted away. This bow was preserved perfectly in the oilskin in that hunter's hut. Wonder what this Cazal wants? Will the others who died with me be there?
He looks to the man with the Tien name who's been helping him search these past days. "Hey Kobayashi, thanks for helping me search the town. Did you find anything good?"
Whatever change had occured to return him to self awareness had also stopped preventing his flesh from completely decaying. During his thorough search of the town, the rest of Bernd's flesh dried up and crumbled off, leaving him a basically skeletal being.
"Yeah... yeah I did."
Koba had been searching alone the day before, figuring that between he and Bernd they could cover more ground separately. That's when he smelled it.
Perfume? In this place?
It was a distinctive odor, a blend of jasmine and sage that had been popular in... Shinzo. Kobayashi whirled around, searching for its source. Behind him was a gnarled tree, leafless and rotting from whatever undead blight was brought to this country. Despite the rot, a carved seal was still visible on the plant's roots: The seal of his Lord Kazuya.
Koba had dug no more than a foot before he hit something solid. A wooden box, sealed tightly at all edges but eminating an extremely strong scent of perfume, as though the box had been soaked in it. The family seal seemed to also be coated in the stuff.
Kobayashi had heard of this method of hiding caches. It would be marked by perfume, but not just any type. It had to be an extremely strong one that could be absorbed by the tree's roots and taken into the tree's very essence. That way, a ninja looking for the cache would simply have to cut into the tree's roots to smell the scent, which would persist as long as the tree existed.
It apparently worked after the tree's death too. As the plant rotted, large amounts of its flesh were now exposed to air, emanating the perfume's exotic scent.
He opened the box, finding even more than he had hoped for. A wakizashi of far greater quality than he had ever owned, and a shirt of chain mail that seemed far lighter and more flexible than any he had seen in the past. Along with these, other weapons, and ninja tools he found a note. Written on official parchment, it initially seemed to be blank. Koba knew better. He lit one of his newfound torches and held it behind the page. Words slowly appeared forming the message:
"We have not forgotten you.
-Chuko"
Koba took the tools, but his spirit crumbled at the assertion of the letter. "Even if they had not forgotten, they would surely wish they had by now," he thought, looking at his dead, bony hands. "Shinzo is no place for the dead."
The cleric helps in the search but it becomes apparent quickly that time has erased much of the evidence. Between that and the whispering throng of undead that dog his heels, Rumha finds his patience running short. To get a little alone time, and because it's the only avenue of investigation left around the decimated town center, the mummy-like cleric retreats to the sewers. He navigates the dried and rubble-choked water-ways with some difficulty - but at least he doesn't have to deal with the whisperers.
After a long and fruitless search, he circles around to a point near his 'crypt' along an adjacent tunnel. There he finds the scourged flesh of some Belisaireans along with what appears to be the scant remains of some of their tormentors. Of them, there is only a pool of viscous black goo and strips of skin. He examines the goo and skin by both mundane and occult means... and learns nothing. From little more than curiosity, he dips his rusted and useless mace in the goo to see if it bears acidic properties. To his surprise, the goo coats and strengthens the weapon. Rumha quickly dips the entire mace in the goo until it is a matte black tool of destruction.
He grows more bold in his testing and dips his necrotic fingers in the black sludge. Nothing happens. "Huh. Curious stuff." Figuring the liquid might repair his flayed armor as it did the mace, Rumha liberally wipes handfuls of the goo on his armor and uses the demon skin strips to seal the largest holes, trying to adhere them with more of the goo. Unbelievably, it works. His leather armor goes from cracked brown to a supple grey-black and bears leaves of demon flesh, as well as some strips of Belisairean skin as well.
The cleric is well pleased with his finds and heads to the surface. A glint among the displaced body parts catches his eye. He finds a pinkie-sized ruby - clearly from some wealthy and quite dead townsman. Seeing no reason to leave such a bauble lying around, he pops it into the corner of his eye-socket for safekeeping.
After a bit of a dig, Rumha emerges close to the town center as evening falls... in time for the mysterious meeting with Cazal. He knocks the dust from his clothes and looks upon the whispering dead thronging to the site. "Good evening, all. What news?"
He lets their silence hang a moment, hoping for an answer. When none comes, he presses on, "Well, good speaking with you again."
Rumha thinks Gods! What a bunch of stiffs... only to realise that they are.
After his lapse into memory, Kobayashi's thoughts return to this world of the undead.
"We should probably get to the town square. I don't trust this Cazal guy, but I sure as hell want to know what he and his hooded cabal are up to. Heh. Cazal's Cabal, that has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
After a search of the immediate Area in Town proves fruitless, and also because some of the former inhabitants don't enjoy him picking through the ruins of their old homes, Ewen decides to extend his search further.
After an unsuccessful day of scouting, he arrives at what seems to have been a vast wooded area, only that all the trees have been chopped down. Someone or something must have been busy lumbering.
Close to the former tree-line Ewen notices what seems to be a collapsed hut. Curious he proceeds to investigate further, and finally gets lucky:
Almost hidden under the rubble is a trap door.
Freeing the trapdoor and descending into the darkness below, his mood lightens up. The cellar is full of all sorts of weapons and armor in varying condition. Most items are stored properly and time has barely damaged them. Ewen takes his picks of what he considers to be useful.
After gearing up, he leaves everything not interesting to him behind, closes the trapdoor and hides it under rubble again. Then he heads back to Nalvallen to talk about his search.
He is approached by Cazal to join a meeting in town center. Ewen is eager to hear what this is all about.
Heading west Varus finds the land lifeless and bleak. Sticks snapped with an unearthly brittleness then dissolved into dust. The black landscape offering no hope.
how far could it have spread in the years...
On the second morning there was a slight change in the endless dead land. Unlike every other farm he had come across, this one had only half collapsed and by some miracle was still stable. Varus entered and looked around. Down in the basement he found a half buried coffin. It was empty apart from something long wrapped in a black cloth. Unwrapping it carefully he found a composite longbow and several arrows neatly inside a quiver. It looked like the cloth had been covered in some liquid to protect it's contents.
Varus took the quiver and replaced his own.
where did this old hunter go? Did he survive the fireball that destroyed half his house? Perhaps he got away. I hope he ran as fast as he could.
The cloth turned out to be a cloak and Varus replaced his own worn for the new black look. Fitting. Continuing west for another day Varus saw a large structure ahead. It was a wall and extended as far as he could see. Sneaking closer he could make out soldiers patrolling the top. He wasn't sure where the gate was. If there was one. Or how far the wall went.
most likely all the way around this dead place. No gates too I imagined. Hope not. I should go back and let everyone know. They'll kill me for sure if i show my face... no point denying it any longer. Im as undead as the rest of them. Master did you come to this town at all? Or are you out there somewhere living out your years in peace?
Heading back towards town with nothing to do, he wished he could eat again.
A day or two later he arrived back in town. None were to be seen but he could hear some commotion further in. Arriving in the town center he saw everyone gathered. Before he got to say more to the others than "they built a wall around this land..." the one surrounded by grey cloaked men was calling everyone's attention.
"Who is that? The mayor?" he asks no one in particular.
"I have no idea who that is, but I bet we'll find out soon enough. Good to see you guys again. Hard to make any new acquaintances these days." He chuckles slightly.
The meeting begins.
A little less than a thousand Gravebound, including any of you who decided to come are gathered in the ruins of the town square where so many died.
In the center of the square stands Cazal and his three allies, their features cloaked in the robe's hoods.
Cazal speaks:
"My friends, my fellow citizens. It is obvious our fate is no less kind than it was back on that damned night. However, after my friend here managed to cast a spell or two, I'm confident to say that it has been around twenty years since we died. All we know is that we are alive... or un-alive, once again. Now, I do not know why, or what has happened... but I have believe we are all missing something, something very important. Men and women of faith, you should feel this most strongly for I speak of the loss of our souls. We are awake yes, but soulless. Now... I personally wish to simply live. Perhaps this is too much to ask for one already dead. I intend to set out, with anyone who wishes, to try and rebuild our lands. Find a way to survive."
He pauses.
"Now, does anyone have any important news or pieces of information to share?"
"Hate to burst their bubble but here goes..."
Varus walks through the crowd, pushing gently aside those that get in his way. Only a hat is visible to those elsewhere in the square that notice the disturbance. When he finally is in front with none between he addresses Cazal, but loudly enough for all to hear.
"I wouldn't be going too far from the village unless you have a death wish. I have scouted the land and found a shining wall just 2 days west of here. I'm not sure how far the wall extends, I have yet to discern this but I am sure that any of us that are seen will be destroyed as I would have 20 years ago. The wall is there to keep the evil of this land in.
I'm not from here, now do I wish to stay. I don't know about everyone else but it won't be long before we are discovered. The land has been silent till now. What I'd they have magicians and other things watching the town? We can't just try to "live" as you say. We need to be able to defend ourselves at least.
hope that got everyone's attention.
Diplomacy?
Bernd shoves his way to the front as well. "We need to find whoever did this, and put a hurting to them! We can't just 'live' now. What does that even mean? What, are you gonna be farmers? Grow a bunch of food your can't eat? HA! You're a fool Cazal. The only life for us now is as monsters. And monsters need prey."
Victor stands amongst the crowd, not terribly interested in the proceedings. He even yawns out loud as Cazal speaks, looking thoroughly bored. However, when he hears Bernd mention prey, his eyes snap wide open, and he pushes folks out of his way to stand in front of the crowd. "Now that is somethin' I can agree with!" The lame oracle flexes his clawed hands in front of him, a manic grin on his face. "If they're tryin' t' keep us out, maybe we should give 'em a reason to!" he shouts, standing tall and trying to rally the other Gravebound.
"A wall, eh? That's interesting... But as for prey? I feel no compulsion to harm. I see no reason to it. What do we have to gain? Wealth? Power? Comfort? What do those things mean anymore? We don't eat, we don't sleep, or even breathe! Hell, I don't even want to return to my home country, where they would destroy me on sight. Bernd, however... " Koba looks at his new companion, "seems to harbor a bloodlust. Perhaps he is not as level headed as I believed. I guess you can't trust anyone these days"
Kobayashi sighs, or at least tries to. It comes out as more of a raspy wheeze.
But... there is one thing that I want, and I sure as hell can't get it here. Maybe there are answers that lie beyond this wall. Hell, maybe we could work together with the living to get back our souls."
"You speak of time and violence, but not of causation. What good will organization do if we do not know our true nature? What did those creatures do to us? Why were they here? Is there a way to revert us back to our former selves? These are the questions we should be asking, not on whether we should turn against humanity. If there is bloodshed, so be it, but let it be in the service of returning to us what is rightfully ours."
"I don't give a damn 'bout any o' that!" Victor shouts, turning his glare towards Kobayashi. "Whate'er did this t' us should pay f'r it! An' if we gotta raze a few cities in th' process, so be it!" The Gravebound clenches both fists, raising them above his head. "Th' only thing we c'n do wit' our second lease on life is t' punish th' ones who forced it on us!"
"I don't want to fight humans. They didn't do anything to me. I wanna find the demons that turned us, and fight them!"
"Humans, demons, it don't matter t' me. But if I don' start makin' somebody pay f'r it, I'm gonna start destroyin' somethin'," Victor states, his clenched fists at his sides. His red eyes flash with restrained fury.
Varus smirks
not that any of us has a choice, if we are seen its fight or die, again...
He looks to see what the crowd in general seem to be feeling.
Sense motive ]
Cedric scoured the town but did not find a sign of his family. The good part was that it probably meant his parents had really gotten away, the bad part was that it meant his sister and brother in law were probably too badly mangled to rise. Then again, that might actually be the best part. He decided that the old home of his parents would now be his.
While going through town Cedric sharpened his new scythe at his old neighbour's former blacksmith shop, only to discover it was of a better make than he had thought. The shop also still held a breastplate of great quality, probably too heavy to carry along when the whole street fled.
During a hunt through the remains of the temples that remained he wasn't surprised to find most desecrated and useless. Eventually though he found the altar of the goddess of wisdom and in it was a whole stays of flasks that used to contain holy water. Most of these were now murky and tainted but one, right in the middle, seemed to have escaped that fate. Cedric pocketed it before some idiot would destroy it out of fear.
The meeting with Cazal intrigued Cedric and he went to see what was going on. So far most of the risen had proven peaceful and that was a good thing.
When other started to speak once Cazal was done Cedric shook his head, "I say let the savage try. On his own. Let him face the wall and let the living butcher him. Makes it easier for the rest of us."
Cedric started to move through the crowd, stopping about twenty feet before where Cazal was speaking. "I say we first map what area we have left. Do we still have an opening somewhere or are we surrounded by walls? We don't have to hurry and risk anything, we have eternity now. We need to know the exact circumstances of our current situation. While some work on that I say our brightest mind can start trying to discover what exactly caused all this and why."
"That's a good idea. Recon first. We can't kill the demons if we are walled in. We might be able to find out more about them as well. Who knows how big of an area was effected, how many towns lost? I will repeat, I have no intention of going anywhere near the living if I can help it. They should be left in peace."
Ewen interferes: "Why shouldn't we go near them? Has anyone tried talking to someone who's not in our state? We could explain to them we're not hostile and they might even help? It's not like any of us caused them harm, is it? This... event, or whatever we should call it might have affected a limited area, and maybe it can be reversed? Surviving is a good idea, but finding a solution sounds even better to me."
He pauses for a moment.
"I think our best course of action right now is to find out if whoever is responsible for this is still somewhere around. Then we get all the information we need out of him, be it with reason", he glances at Victor,"or with violence.
After thinking for a brief moment he continues:
"I was in the tavern when it all began, but I do recall a lot of smoke to the east of the town. Does anyone remember anything else that could lead us to where this actually started? We might find more answers there. Anything is better than just standing around doing nothing."
"Why would they have built a wall lined with guards if they didn't intend to kill whatever was inside? We are anathema to mortal gods, we are an abomination to the cycle of souls, and the only mortals who won't run away or try to kill us on sight are necromancers, who would probably want to control us. I don't want to risk talking to them, I'd rather avoid them if possible."