Tracking the Necromancer

[wangxiuming]

Osclow's request seemed simple enough. Make your way to the Crossroads - the only lead we have on tracing the Necromancer that committed this atrocity upon Cybil. Alyrian, Fenton, the Ironforge dwarf, and Sywyn made their way to the tumultous farmstead, eager to find any signs that might point the way to the Necromancer's lair.

As they approached the spot where the Necromancer had summarily ejected Cybil and her elven friend Ruu'mel, Fenton and the dwarf began to search the grassy field for clues. Alyrian instead, turned to the skies around them, extending an arm into the air to feel for any residual magicks that might have been left from the portal.

"There ... there, I can feel it! The portal ... the connection is still there ... if only I could trace it to its source ... "

Concentrating harder, the elven warlock struggled to latch onto that faint trace of magic that still remained. Finding an anchor, he began to pull and stretch the portal open with all his strength. Unbeknownst to him, dark magic began to pour out simultaneously, wrapping him in tendrils of shadowy energy, grabbing on ... pulling ...

In a flash, Alyrian no longer stood in the crossroads. Instead, he found himself in a room of starless night - darkness at every turn, save for what appeared to be the portal, still glimmering with energy. Sywyn dusted himself off close by - he had tried to pull Alyrian away from the obscure mass of energy, but only managed to be ensnared himself.

As Sywyn and Alyrian began to search for an exit, shadowy figures began to congeal from the walls, slowly taking dreadfully familiar forms – at least, to Alyrian, though he could not yet identify the figures. What … trickery is this?

The dark vault shimmered away to reveal the valley just outside the Gate of the Sunderer. Two familiar forms stood just under the bridge, gazing out across the lake, unaware they were being watched by two elven outsiders. Alyrian had no idea what was going on, why he was being shown these images … until one of them spoke.

“ … it told me … Her, no I … I am Tamara.”

\\ More to come…

[wangxiuming]

A cold chill jolted down Alyrian's spine ... what is this? Can this be true?! Tamara, my love ...

His voice trembled with hope as it left his lips. "T-Tamara? Tamara it's me! It's Alyrian! Is ... is it really you?"

But the shadows remained unphased. Desperate to get the shadowy figure's attention, Alyrian stepped closer with Sywyn following close behind, only to see the vision and the shadow-forms melt away before their eyes - to be replaced by something new. The valley road began to blur even as concrete walls began to take their place - the temple of the Triumvirate.

The temple was uncommonly empty, except for a single bed under the Ilmateri sect. A man's body lay there, surrounded by healers, screamin in pain as they operated.

"W-what is this ... " Alyrian breathed. "What's ... going on?"

Sywyn had to grab his elven cousin to support him. "Think! Don't forget we were just sucked into a portal." His words were lost on Alyrian however, as the elven warlock focused on what was almost ... history, playing itself out before his eyes. I don't remember this ... then what is it?

A second shadowy figure walked right through the two elves, its own form terrifyingly familiar. In one hand, the shadow conjured a spiralling ball of acid energy, screaming at the man on the bed: "Tamara ... WHERE IS SHE?!"

The man on the bed screamed in pain, roaring, "She ... Tamryn ... Tamara ... SHE DID THIS! She can not be saved! I was too weak, too weak to put an end to her!!"

Alyrian couldn't understand what was unfolding before him. He struggled to break free of Sywyn's grasp, to get a closer look at what was going on, to be completely engrossed into the scene. Sywyn stopped offering resistance, instead taking the opportunity to throw a hand high into the air. Magic light conjured forth, brilliant and radiant, banishing the shadows and sending the visions away along with them.

"These visions aren't real, haven't you noticed?!"

Alyrian gasped, reaching out desperately to try and latch onto the evanescent visions, even as the chilling darkness of the first room they had been trapped in reappeared, in all its isolated reality. "N-no ... no ... "

Cold, cruel laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls to fill their ears.

"Hahahaha...you are strong ... but I have prepared for this. I expected one of you fools to try and discover my laboratory. Even you, with all your magicks ... could not sense my trap."

"The Shadow Plane. Or at least, a plane in touch with it. What is. What might be. What will be. And ... what was. Time flows through this place and visions are maddening."

Alyrian trembled in fury, at the realization that he had been toyed with. "You ... you think this place can hold me?!"
"Oh ... but through here, you can find your beautiful Tamara. Why not just stay? Does anybody in the valley actually care about her anymore? Nobody wants to save her. Here ... you just might have a chance."

Sywyn's whisper was hushed, but the elven warlock heard it nonetheless. "Remember where we are, Aly ... "

The possibility of being reunited - it was such a temptation, Alyrian could hardly bear to resist. Still, he could feel the truth, could sense the voice's motivations behind telling him these lies. His words trembled with guilt and regret as they left him, but also, with a sense of grim determination. "No ... no. You lie .. .your words are impossible - you're trying to keep us trapped in here, I won't let you play me for a fool!"

"Impossible? ... you glimpsed into a future of possibilities. If she were no longer alive, if finding her was truly impossible ... then she would not be in any of those visions. Maybe, you're just lying to yourself."

"Tamara ... she lives on. And not with the Black Hand." As his words finish, the voice began to cackle, leaving only his terrible laughter behind as his presence leaves.

Sywyn wasted no time in helping Alyrian up. "Alyrian - the portal. Do you think we can get back through there?"

The elven warlock nodded, tired and exhausted from the ordeal. He lifted a sweaty arm and then concentrated hard. Those dark tendrils wrapped themselves around the two elves once again, and sucked them through the portal's gaping maw.

As they stepped out, they found themselves in what could only be the necromancer's laboratory.

\\More to come.

[wangxiuming]

Alyrian struggled to keep from gagging. The scene before him was one of incomparable horror - blood, guts, they were everywhere. A pile of severed limbs decorated one corner of the lab, along with several hollowed-out torsos. Crimson streaks were painted across the floor and walls, sprayed and splattered with what could only be a maniac's glee. Across the room, various tables stood with leather straps and ties, all covered in bits of flesh and congealed blood.

From behind him, Alyrian heard the young Sywyn vomit. "HHHooorraaall!!" Putting an akward hand on his elven cousin's shoulder, Alyrian grew more and more certain - this is where Cybil had been violated, had her babies stolen from within her.

"Gods ... that monster. This is where it happened! The children - are they here?"

"Please don't tell me ... " Sywyn began to search the room, still struggling not to continue throwing up. Alyrian's gaze followed his cousin's until it landed on a book underneath one of the gruesome operating tables. Kneeling down to pick it up, he began to flip through the pages slowly, trying to find creases and particularly worn pages.

"Find something, Aly?"

No sooner had Sywyn uttered those words did Alyrian trigger a curse within the book, and his head jolted violently backwards, sending alyrian face-up and sprawling on the floor. As the curse took hold, his whole body shuddered and shook, foam frothing from his mouth.

"What the hells? Cousin? Cousin?!"

But Alyrian was once again deaf to Sywyn's cries - violent memories flashed before him, seared into his mind - brutal, senseless imagery. Women sobbing, lifeless children, the screams of men dying as they tried to defend the helpless. Desperate to shut out the visions, Alyrian closes his eyes tightly, but no matter how hard he tried, they continued to push forth into his mind.

Sywyn, seeing the book still clutched in Alyrian's arms, quickly kicked the cursed tome away, and then slapped Alyrian across the face - hard. "Get a hold of yourself!"

Disconnected from the book, the warlock's senses returned to him. Panting hard, he manages to say, "The book is cursed... but I'm certain the necromancer used it to ... do whatever he did to Cybil."

Sywyn nodded, "Thank the gods you are fine. I'll look into that thing later. Right now, we need to get out of here." Sywyn picked up the cursed tome and carefully put it away in his satchel. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a shimmering mirror.

As the two elves examined the mirror, they realized it was no ordinary object. Instead of their reflections, an image of the crossroads pulsated, ever so slightly, just past midnight. The spot - right where Cybil and Ru'umel had been dropped. The exit!

Sywyn threw a spare arrow straight at the mirror - it went through harmlessly, landing with a thunk! in the wheatfield on the other side. Nodding to each other, the two elves cautiously stepped through the mirror, one after the other - and found themselves surrounded by a group of fellow adventurers - Fenton, Osclow, Rena, Cybil ... among many others. Smiling weakly, Alyrian let out a sigh of profound relief.

The rest was barely a haze - Sywyn handed over the cursed tome to Osclow for examination, as Alyrian relayed all they had seen and learned. Finally, as the crowd settled down, the elven warlock made his way back to his room at the Four Lanterns, his mind focused on one thing, and one thing alone: Tamara ... is it possible? Are you still there ... waiting for me?

This was only the beginning. There was still so much to be done. The Necromancer - his fate would have to be decided. And soon.

\\ Fin.

\\ Thanks to DM Supreme Taco and Sywyn for the great event! Sywyn please feel free to add your own posts/comments, and let me know if I took too much liberty in transcribing your words or actions.