Open Chronicles Grim Pickings

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Vardan

The Lich is Back
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SOMEWHERE IN THE ALLIR REACH
A SMALL HAMLET OF NO POLITICAL IMPORTANCE - WITHIN AN UPTURNED GRAVEYARD


Vardan remembered well the smell of singed flesh. Only remembered. His present state bereft him of any sense of of smell. But compared to the greater gift of unlife, it was only a trifling inconvenience. Vardan shook the smoke off his hand and stepped closer to inspect the scorched cadaver. Still intact, but it would need some cleaning.​
A meddlesome farmer. But that would at least teach the rest of the provincials not to get in the way, if the remainder of them hadn't fled already.​
Behind him, his gnolls yipped and hooted as they unearthed yet another wooden casket from the graveyard. They made quick work of the lid and tore through the insides: tearing fabric and taking cheap burial trinkets for trophies. Crude icons, old coins...

"Knaves!" Vardan snapped at them, and their mad crush came to an abrupt end, "Mind the bones!"​
The useless beasts required a reminder almost every other casket, but it was still more becoming to keep them in his service than do it all himself. They resumed their activities in a more orderly fashion, fumbling the bones and their fragments into already engorged cloth sacks.​
"Here," Vardan rasped, indicating the dead farmer with a wave, "Ye mayest consume this one."

Say what you will about gnolls, but when you travel with a pack of them, nothing edible goes to waste.​
 
WITHIN THE GRAVE
Vardan

The gnolls continued their efforts and busied themselves with one peculiar grave.

It seemed freshly dug and covered back up hastily.

Once the dirt was clawed open it revealed a shambled box. It didn't deserve to be called a coffin and as such it was not. Four mismatched planks fit together with gaps and seams. This allowed the creatures to make quick work disassembling the wooden construct.

Within were no bones.

Instead it was a man.

"What the actual ka-" The gnoll unceremoniously clubbed the man in the face. "You piece o' shi-" This time the foulmouthed manling was ready when the gnoll tried to club him again. He caught the beast's strike and yanked the creature in with him.

There was some screaming involved.

This would presumably attract attention.

Out the freshly-dug hole came a man, bloodied fresh and old, with holes in his tunic. Arrow holes, in fact. The arrows themselves were gone but the holes in his body were still mending.

Yes, mending, before their very eyes.

"Oh, wow, you are a bony fella, aren't you?" Once Fane noticed Vardan lording it over the gnolls.
 
Blackburn Fane
The gnolls scattered, barking and whining as they went. It was to be expected when anything of particular surprise took them and clubbed one of their own. Vardan knew this well enough, but their behavior was unbecoming for an honored knight's men-at-arms, so he hated them for it.​
Bony fists clenched in rage as some foul, hairy man came out of the grave. Vardan himself was in no better shape, being a skeleton in his tattered, ruined funerary raiment. Not that he acted like it or appeared to care.​
"What manner of foolishness is this?" he demanded, "Thou'rt living, yet buried here among the dead? Belike we are of a piece..."​
Vardan tapped his chin with a single finger. "I have sullied my hands enough today. I shall have my levies dispatch thee, upon their return."​
He referred to the gnolls, obviously. So Vardan waited.​
 
Vardan

Fane squinted at the skeleton.

"What, did you get buried two centuries ago, or do you believe it makes you sound sophisticated?" His hand moved to rest on the pommel of his sword. Except that his sheath was empty. He looked down and cursed loudly at this realization.

"Not again, why do they always rob me. It wasn't even a particularly well-made sword."

Only then looking up again.

"Dispatch? Buddy, I got killed once already today, I ain't planning on making that a twofer." He picked up the club the gnoll dropped and raised it up.

"So either I knock your skull off and see how far it flies, or you can tell me where we are, because I don't recognize this particular graveyard." Truth to be told Fane wasn't sure he could take it. Yeah, sure, it was rather thin and seemingly was unwilling to get its own bonemeal dirty, but it was still a resurrected skeleton that was moving by its own regard.

Maybe this was a powerful Lich he was about to piss off?
 
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"Oh my."

A wizened orc hobbled into the graveyard on a staff that he leaned heavily upon. He was severely balding, but the braids of his beard were almost pure white. He wore simple robes of green and red and a large satchel slung over a shoulder. It tinkled like glass as he walked forward.

Atop one shoulder, a strange monkey glared at the gnolls with tiny, impish fury.

"Well what do we have here?"

The orc snapped his fingers with surprising alacrity and three glowing orbs suddenly appeared, floating around and lazily drifting in a circle to illuminate the grave robbers in the dark of night - as all proper grave robbing was done at night.
 
Blackburn Fane | Urberus

"Aaahhmmm," Vardan mused, though it sounded something like a wispy, airy groan, "Freshly risen. Thou'rt yet disoriented - though such impudence is likely to be thy natural state, yes..."​
This not-dead-living-man's vulgar speech did not trouble Vardan at all. It was quite common for provincials to conduct themselves in this way. His levies would be along to correct such aberrant behavior in due time.​
Vardan shrugged, "Must a lordling bother himself to learn the name of each petty demesne he crosses? I know not. It is beneath me."​
It sufficed to know they had a graveyard, and graveyards contained that which Vardan needed. No sooner had he answered the-not-dead-living-man, an irksome light shone on him.​
Likely out of pure habit, Vardan raised a skeletal hand to shield his eye sockets. "Bah! Now what? Avaunt, nuisance!"​
 
Urberus Vardan

An orc, a monkey, a skeleton and a living corpse walked into a tavern...

Wasn't this the kind of joke one made when faced with the absolute circus that this graveyard was slowly becoming? They only needed the gnolls back to truly make it into a cacophony. "Quite so, Sir Skelly, I am grouchy before and after rolling around in my own grave."

Then his attention shifted to the orc and its pet.

He blinked at the sudden light, shielding his own face with a more fleshy hand. Oh, dear. He looked right through a hole in his hand.

It hadn't yet healed properly.

"Ah, feth's sake, why does this always happen?" Asked mostly to himself as Fane jabbed a finger through the hole in his hand. "I will never get used to this..." Only then focusing once again on the orc. "What ya got here is a talking skeleton, a recently buried guy an' a little army of gnolls currently trapizing in the wilderness beyond us."

"And you? Walking the monkey for a late number two?"
 
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"Ah, no not quite," Urberus wheezed, stroking the braids of his beard with blackened fingernails.

"I'm looking for a flower that only grows in this region. It's said to- well, that doesn't really matter now."

Pale green eyes looked between the skeleton and the... mostly dead man covered in soil. Urberus began to think maybe he had made a wrong turn down the lane, but then such oddities often happened on the road.
 
Blackburn Fane | Urberus

Sir Skelly. Vardan nearly balked - and if he had blood, it would have surely boiled. Such crude mockery. Nearby undergrowth rustled as his gnolls prepared, cautiously, to return to the field. The ongoing lightshow made them additionally hesitant, as one might expect.​
Vardan did not actually perceive his gnolls to be nearby, and proceeded to yell at Urberus for his own personal reasons.​
"I am Sir Vardan of the Rosewood - and I command thee cease this insipient chatter, recall this light, and avaunt!" He cried, "Or I shall set my levies upon thee next!"​
 
Vardan | Urberus

"Buddy, as far as I know this is a public graveyard-" And a glance to the wizened orc. "Right?" And no matter if the old guy confirmed or not, he continued. "-and you, Sir Vardan, don't have sole right to wander about here late at night."

Not that this was his choice.

He'd much rather be in some sort of tavern. Drinking ale, warm blankets, a fire. Instead he had to be dug out by some ugly arse gnolls and be acosted by a haughty skeleton.

"Anyway, what ARE you doing here, Vardan? Last I heard digging out graves ain't exactly legal."

Which was frankly a ridiculous statement to make.

Since Vardan was sentient skeleton. Those kind of creatures weren't exactly interested in legality. Which Fane seemed to belatedly realize. "Well, I don't think being a sentient skeleton is legal either, but that doesn't seem to be stopping you either."

If Fane realized they were currently being surrounded by those gnolls he didn't show it.
 
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Urberus smiled congenially, though the effect was lost by his broken tusk and glaring monkey, who was now beating its little chest and shrieking in fury.

“Oh hush, Chime. Let’s see here,” he waved a hand and the lights dimmed to a soft glow, little more than the light of the two moons.

Then he just kind of stood there and listened, as old orcs do.
 
Blackburn Fane | Urberus

The awful light abated and Vardan lowered his hand. He did not thank Urberus for his compliance, though, as a matter of course. Obeisance to one's betters was to be expected and therefore did not merit verbal acknowledgement.​
"I need not justify mineself to you, recreant," Vardan sneered at Blackburn, "I am well within the ancient rights bestowed upon the vaunted House of Rosewood. These pitiful dead are to be drafted for a higher cause."​
The surrounding undergrowth shuddered in various places as the gnolls came crawling out, growling and snarling, clutching crude spiked clubs and rusted hatches. They were not a well-equipped assortment by any stretch.​
Six in all, not counting the one Blackburn had already made a casualty of. Now having collected themselves, they were ready to express their building rage and fear.​
Vardan pointed a withered old finger at Blackburn, "Kill him! Bring me his bones!"​
The gnolls rushed forth to oblige, though in their own disorganized, piecemeal way.​
 
Vardan | Urberus

"Ancient is right, I have never heard of-"

Before Fane could continue a hoard of gnolls reappeared out of the bushes. This made him sigh. They all knew how this would end. Was it too late yet to apologize to Vardan? Perhaps the honorable Ser would find it within their skeleton to be reasonable-

Too late for that.

They crawled over each other to be the first one to get at Fane. The old Orc was most likely no help at all, so Fane positioned himself with his back to the grave.

At least he wouldn't be attacked from behind.

That was something, right?

The first gnoll that leaped up towards Fane was met with a swift punch in their face. A satisfying crunch and yelp came out of the vile creature, before it collapsed in front of Fane. This satisfaction didn't stick for very long, because three more jumped on Fane.

They began to chew.

Fane screamed, more in fury than pain, but screamed nonetheless as he ripped off one of the gnolls and began to use it as a sentient mace.

Said gnoll didn't seem to mind because they were currently busy chewing on some meaty shoulderham.

Until they were smashed into a fourth gnoll anyway.
 
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“Ah,” said Urberus’ grimacing as the gnolls began to ravage the poor fellow, peeling him apart like an overripe melon.

It was likely too late to save him, but…

Urberus produced a vial from inside his sleeve, which he uncorked and handed to his monkey.

“Drink up now…”

The monkey downed the entire vial of glowing, viscous fluid, then leaped off Urberus’ body and started shrieking, slapping the ground with its tiny hands. Its body began to bubble and boil, bones cracked and elongated, and the tiny monkey morphed and mutated into a horrific ten foot ape-troll that stood panting, muscles rippling. It had talons the size of a man’s forearms and a maw filled with razor sharp teeth above which stared two beady black eyes.

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Chimera.”

The beast slapped the ground, causing the earth to shake, then charged the gnolls, screaming loud enough to wake the dead.
 
Urberus | Blackburn Fane

Vardan observed, studying the performance of his gnolls. Such savage strength was not to be underestimated. He appeared to be contemplating the matter quite studiously when he heard the snapping of tendons and the stretching of flesh, then a feral roar of a beast many times larger than Vardan had ever beheld.​
A chimera.​
It thundered past him, appearing to rend his gnolls - to the good fortune of the man they presently assaulted. Vardan suspected they would break in but a few moments. Vacant eye-sockets beheld Urberus, failing to convey Vardan's astonishment, and he yelled at him, "Malapert! Thou shalt rue this trespass in time!"​
That time would transparently not be now, as Vardan immediately turned and began the undignified process of vacating the field in the opposite direction.​