Ephemeral Echo

Lost Child's page

10 posts. Alias of Doomed Hero.


Inside, more and more children slowly became visible, coming in from outside to join the cavorting ghosts on the tree. Many of them. Two... no three-dozen more, slowly joining the fun.

The necromantic potency of this place brought them into view, starting with the faintly glowing eyes that the party had become used to seeing nearly every night. They varied in age from perhaps three years to nearly adolescent. The party had seen them faintly before, but never with such clarity. Here, in this place, they seemed nearly tangible.

They were playing with the others. Meeting other kids like them for the first time in millennia.

It was the least messy self-coup de grace I could think of.

The corpse of the little girl hung it's head sadly, hardly moving, shuffling it's feet as it followed Ragnar toward the door.

The haunted house I'm working on opens this week, so I'm going to be very slow to post. I expect to be back int he swing of things on the first of november, but for the next few weeks I'm going to be literally chained to a giant monster.

Sleep? What is this 'sleep' you speak of?

The undead bandit with the ghostly child possessing it had been skipping and occasionally spinning as the group wandered down the snow glutted path.

When the skeletons revealed themselves, it launched itself forward at the closest one, it's throat making a stuttering rasp that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

Charge: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 3 + 2 = 24
Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

The undead creature screwed up it's bloodless face like a grumpy child and stamped it's foot.

The formerly living bandit stood next to Ragnar, looking over it's body. It smiled with dead eyes and hissed out something in ancient Skald.

"Jeg saaaaaavnet å ha huuuuud." then it's voice gave out and it moved its mouth like a fish out of water. It seemed confused and quickly frustrated.


"I missssssed having skiiiiiiin."

Ragnar says something in his native tongue and the undead next to Havelock turned and lunged at the man who had just raised it from death.

GM, since I don't have the stats on these undead, I'm going to have you make the rolls for them. Ragnar's orders are to "kill that man" in regards to the jerk who just appeared.

The pacified risen corpse looks down at it's hands, turns them over to get a better look at them, and then smiles in a hideous grin. The sound that comes out of its throat is a gurgling mockery of a child's laughter.