Tormeron's events: the Stories

It's happy hour, the alcohol is flowing. It's time to pull up a tankard of ale, bottle of wine for the ladies and regail tales of heroism and grandeur.

Topic/Postby Gergel » 06 Feb 2015, 10:57

(2015-02-03)

Northrend, Day 1.

The arrival was cold. Not because the locals were unfriendly or anything - they weren't. Or at least they didn't seem to particularly even notice Arthuron and his companions. Neither did the wind, which just kept blowing with its usual chilliness, and that was the cause of the coldness.

Any plans for a peaceful expedition and sightseeing went out of the proverbial window as soon as people had managed to take three steps into the new land. Adrenus must have been lurking secretly nearby and summoning the usual horrible problems upon them. Or he might have been praying in Stormwind Cathedral for "a fun adventure for his usual companions."

A local soldier promptly approached Thelarwen and handed her a letter from Tirion Fordring. There had been reports of undead attacking local villages, the letter said, and Highlord Fordring requested that Thelarwen investigate the matters. Of course everyone else was free to continue their expedition while Thelarwen would travel alone to do her investigations, and so Adrenus and most of the group set off to see the local sights, do a bit of hunting, and camp under the starlit sky in the quiet and peaceful (albeit chilly) atmosphere of the Borean Tundra. And nothing bad whatsoever happened to them. Also, Serendipity and Chepi decided to just stay in the local pub. Forever. And Florence Silsbury married Adrenus and had seven children who were never ever attacked by horrible monstrosities.

Meanwhile, in a different and strange parallel universe.

"Your problems are our problems, right?" said the companions and indicated that they wished to follow Thelarwen into whatever investigation she was planning. Even Serendipity (although fortunately the parallel universe was not so much different that she didn't add the mandatory "I could be in the pub" comment) and Chepi.

So they traveled northeast along the roads. Their boredom with the barren land and chilly wind was somewhat alleviated by watching local animals (woolly rhinos) getting oddly enamored with Chepi, and having a small group of random undead attack them. The skeletons and zombies were, of course immediately dispatched by a few arrows, spells and sword slashes, and as for the rhinos, Chepi decided not to elope.

A nearby village was indeed quite overrun with the walking dead. While most of the group gathered around a staff that was lying on the ground and causing uneasy sensations of dark magic, Thelarwen wandered into the village and laid waste to the undead roaming there. By the time she had made her way back, Chepi had already disenchanted the staff and thereby put an end to its dark magic.

But there was more magic. Which was even darker. It was clearly emanating from the nearby mine, which everyone entered without any apparent care in the world. Aside from a few easily-dispatched undead, there was nothing very dangerous there, so it was easy to investigate. The mine carts were full of corpses and there were a few more of those full-of-dark-magic staves on the ground. Also, a surprisingly alive gnome, who ran away in panic.

Thelarwen's expert opinion was that the staves were filled to the brim with necromantic magic, which would slowly (as in, within hours or days, but not within minutes) cause any nearby corpses to reanimate into undead. Clearly there must have been a necromancer (or several) nearby to produce and recharge those staves, as well as take possession of all the undead they produced. But it was impossible to tell where those dark wizards could have been.

Suddenly there was a rumble in the cave as it decided that now would be an excellent time for a lovely cave-in. Being buried alive was not in the group's agenda for the night, therefore they ran away.

The adventurers found little else to do about the undead (who were all re-dead), the staves (which were all broken) and the necromancers (who were all missing). So they began making their way towards Dragonblight again. This was quickly interrupted by Aroona picking up a totally random skull from the ground for some reason, which then turned out to be full of horrible necromantic power and began to possess the poor druid, making her body move against her will and causing her to attack her companions. This, of course, was not something Thelarwen was going to allow, so she tackled Aroona, got a few feeble hits (Aroona was clearly managing to hold herself back somewhat), and grabbed the skull from Aroona.

The skull, then, proceeded to try and possess / control Thelarwen. Which, knowing the death knight, turned out to be an utterly impossible task. Instead Thelarwen used the skull's connection to whatever created and/or controlled it to attempt to trace the connection back to its source. There was a bit of a false start which led her towards the ocean. Then she sat down, stared into the skull's lifeless eyes, and forced the knowledge out of it.

Mord'rethar. The gate to Icecrown. That was where they would need to go.

But that was for another day. For that evening, all that was left was to make camp. So the group found a somewhat more secure (and wind-shielded) location to spend the night.

(But Thelarwen and Florence sneaked away to go on a date in Sholazar instead. What happens in Sholazar, stays in Sholazar.)
What kind of sick individual burns a book full of perfectly good dark arts?!
- Darkscryer Raastok
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Gergel
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