"Until Bob Gets Back" Gaming

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"They were frightened by the lack of supplies remaining and returned home. I remained. They will likely state that I am dead when they return. I wonder if they will send anyone to look for me. At any rate, it is my intention to seek the assistance of whatever or whoever commands the undead here."

The heat of the day is only now beginning to slowly ramp up. It may be noon soon.

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Bharnag will continue to walk as they talk, not looking to waste sunlight. "We assume the leader is somewhere in the center of the city, possibly underground or in one of the larger buildings. We've spoken to him once, through some of the undead in the city. He appears to hold strongly to ancient racial hatreds, hopefully a human templar speaking to him will bring a positive response. I have no idea how he will react toward one of your kind. What exactly do your people want from him?"

[Skrye [AC3; 48/48HP]]

- Looking at Bharnag - "It might work, I'm not sure" - and then to Xyn'nia - "Do you know the name of who you are looking forward to meet here?"

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Xyn'iia's eyes seem to sparkle with delight from somewhere beneath the confines of its hood. "A name I know not. All my lord has deemed me worthy to know is that I must seek the lords of those who cling to life on this brutal world when it would be so easy to slip away into the bliss of oblivion. I am to present them an offer. Should they accept, they may become part of my lord's effort to someday transform the world into a more perfect state--but I will, likely as not, never live to see that beautiful day."

In the distance, the group can see a posse of Templars attempting to loot steel weapons from the ruins. As they do, a great swarm of the skeletal remains of the weapons' former owners falls upon them at once, leaving them to take control of as many as they can and destroy the rest.

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Bharnag laughs as the feeble efforts of the templars. "Fools. There can be no victory here until the leader is found."

As they walk, Bharnag continues to chat up Xyn'iia. "What is the name of your lord so we can stop addressing him as 'your lord'. As you know we serve at the pleasure of Sorcerer Monarch Nibenay of the city of the same name. He is a mysterious man, one with much knowledge and many secrets. It is an honor to be considered his trusted citizen. What names do you have for your lord?"

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Xyn'iia coos happily, the sound strange and guttural in the figure's throat.

"We call him many things. He has a name, but few utter it. Mostly, we call him 'god' and 'deity,' but some enjoy the monikers of 'The Reborn,' 'The Changer,' or 'The Worldwalker.' He is the one in charge of running our one, singular settlement. He is the one who provided us with livestock--its like has not been seen outside of our lands, to my knowledge. I am surprised to hear that a lord of this land can be called knower-of-much. It has been my experience that those of this land are knowers-of-little, brutal and violent and barbaric in their ways. I admit, I half-expected you to set upon me and cut me to pieces. Though much can be said of the peoples of this land, poor warriors can they never be called."

[Skrye [AC3; 48/48HP]]

- After nodding the head side to side a few times by looking to the other wives, her eyes return to the traveller of the wastes - "And how come that your lord has knowledge of this land? And what did you mean by 'more perfect state'?"

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Xyn'iia toddles along, its gait slightly awkward as it does its best to keep up.

"He was once of this land. We all were. I am descended from the ones who departed these lands. Back in those days, we were like you. But now, we are different--very different. So different we must cover ourselves here. The Changer has a long memory. It is his intention to change many things about the world, in due time. One of those many things is to dispatch the practice of bondage that exists in these lands."

The group are able to proceed deeper into the ruins without much difficulty. Templars are more and more seldom seen around these parts, and soon the center of the city comes into view. There is a massive space allotted to what perhaps was once a palace, though now all that remains is a massive crater. The crater is perfectly spherical, making it obviously unnatural. All that remains, in the deepest part of the crater, is a few shiny fragments of metal and bone.

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Bharnag nods to the crater. "Let's start there. Perhaps we can uncover an entry to the former palace's lower levels."

Bharnag will lead the way, looking through the bits of metal and examining the ground for a possible entryway.

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The moment the shards of metal at the bottom of the pit are disturbed, a wispy shape takes form at the bottom of the crater. It swirls into the transparent form of a great warrior wearing a suit of steel embossed with gold--the whole thing would be worth the price of a kingdom. Notably, the enormous scabbard across its back, for a two-handed sword, is empty.

"RIMMON! RIMMON!"

The spirit's voice booms, echoing down the deserted streets. It squints when it looks at the party, as if they were very far away.

"No! Not Rimmon. Vermin, like her, but different vermin. I regret to inform you, guttersnipes, that the treasure you perhaps wished to shamelessly loot is long gone."

On the contrary, the spirit doesn't seem regretful at all. If anything, it appears quite smug and seems to be basking in a sense of superiority.

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Bharnag examines the shards of metal to see if any match the ornate armor of the apparition.

"This is the ruler of Bodack." he comments to Xyn'iia.

"I wonder what happened here...?" he mutters to himself.

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The scattered shards do, indeed, match the armor.

Xyn'iia clasps its robed hands together, seemingly pleased. "Ah! Very well."

The critter proceeds to list off a very vague-sounding offer requiring the undead lord enter into an alliance with some other distant ruler of the undead in order to bring about a new world order of some nature. This only seems to baffle the spectre, more than anything.

"What is this worthless babble you spout, wretched thing? Even if I was capable of leaving these ruins, I cannot possibly see why I should bother to do so for this reason. Your prattling bores me, treaty-bringer."

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Bharnag laughs "See? I warned ye."

Then he looks to the templar. "Why not try offering a deal to the dead ruler. Nibenay wants to borrow some dead, maybe there is something he wants in trade."

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Xyn'iia clucks its tongue. "Whether twas for me to succeed or fail, my duty it is just the same. Be it my lot to fail and starve, I accept it now as I accepted it then, at the gates of my home."

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Bharnag nods. "That's honorable. Maybe your trip wasn't a complete failure. Though Bodack won't hear of your treaty, you have found a group of those who speak directly to Nibenay. He is a ruler of immense power, has ruled for centuries. If your ruler is wise he would value an alliance. Better to return with some success than none at all."