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TormakSaber
 
PostPosted: Sun, Jun 26 2016, 2:35 AM 

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Location: Somewhere

((This topic is for Gravemaskin's GST centering around Darkhold.))

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Gravemaskin
 
PostPosted: Sun, Jun 26 2016, 2:49 AM 

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Location: Norway: Home of the Trolls

In the dark corners of the cursed Darkhold, the evils there stir as a ripple washes over the area from the deepest heart of the place. Skeletons and zombies suddenly flock out of the near-forgotten ruins intent on consuming any and all forms of life and warmth in their path. They all hungered like never before, and their strength fortified tenfold as if by divine intervention. The temperature out in the frontier seemed to drop by several degrees, as if the coldest of winter nights had suddenly arrived. The goblins became the first victims of the horde, rent and torn by the starving undead as they attempted to flee to safety. Soon some of the goblins would come to the realization that even their dead comrades would be coming for those who could not flee, half-eaten and drained of latent warmth by strange floating orbs with black tendrils. More victims were soon to follow.

A large group of adventurers soon came upon the battlefield however, and swiftly went to work at dispatching the dangerous undead that had swarmed over the frontier. Fighting against hundreds and hundreds of undeads, and valiantly making their way forward by stepping on the dissassembled bones of their adverseries, the group eventually made it's way into the heart of Darkhold.

Initially blocked by a prismatic barrier, one of the mages present eventually managed to disjoin it, after several attempts, unleashing a powerful wave of negative energy that killed several group members and revealing a strange truth; The barriers seemed to hold back not only the majority of the negative energy but preventing more undead from swarming out of the portal to the demiplane. Once the group arrived there, they slowly made progress, braving the perils of the life quenching empowered negative energy plane.

And there they found the cause behind everything; an object known as a voidstone. Having slain the darkly clothed mage that lingered near it, without pause or hesitation as to his reasons for being there, the group was left without answers of who he was and how the voidstone came to be there in the first place. After some deliberation, and a few moments of bad judgement, the voidstone was eventually shattered with a greater ruin spell.

The insuing explosion that came from such a clash between positive and negative energy, washed over the group and slew several, and began causing a chain reaction in the demiplane. The group swiftly left and returned to the prime before they saw the effects first hand, however the strangely potent negative energy aura seemed to remain. It seems that violently unleashing energy of that magnitude, may have consequences that have yet to reveal themselves. And as for the slain mage, nothing remained but tattered robes and a few dead insects.

But hours later, in the darkest corners of Darkhold amidst the bones of the destroyed skeletons, one of them seemed to self-assemble and rise from the boney pile.

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LibrisMortis_666
 
PostPosted: Sun, Jun 26 2016, 3:50 AM 

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Joined: 02 Jun 2015
Location: Georgia, United States.

Hours later, as the activity in the Darkhold settled, a shadow arcanist steps in the light. His helmet seems to be removed, which shows visual of his face. His left eye seems to have been removed by a Black Onyx shaped eye. There seems to be a lack of hair on his head, at least visible. The right ear of this particular arcanist has been remove, perhaps on purpose? A giant hole is in his left cheek, which offers visual to the inside of his mouth. In addition to all these mutations, the lower lip of this particular arcanist is missing. He is accompanied by a Winterwight, which sticks close to his side, and a corporeal guardian.

He doesn't seem to be hostile towards the undead. Quite the opposite, he seems to offer his aid. Seeming very skilled in Necromancy. He'd walk around the Darkhold without offering any sort of destruction. Instead, he works quietly with any undead he has the ability to reanimate. The Winterwight sticks close to insure individual protection for the arcanist.

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DukeDublin
 
PostPosted: Sun, Jun 26 2016, 7:13 AM 

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The Central Governor's right hand is noticibly withered and wrinkled after the ordeal. Records in the Salandran Temple show he was interred in a coma like state but made a swift (partial) recovery.

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Riley
 
PostPosted: Sun, Jun 26 2016, 8:17 AM 

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After going through the events herself, in the oncoming days after the elven ranger, Elrith, patrols near the area of Darkhold. Making sure to down any negative protection potions before going. And notes anything different other than the increased negative energy coming out of Darkhold. Unless it's still too cold out in the frontier, Elrith would try to heal any damaged plants from the sudden freeze.

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CrazyCatLady
 
PostPosted: Sun, Jun 26 2016, 8:33 AM 

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Lady Shadowflame, after leaving Darkholme, returned to Caraigh where she began to pour over numerous tomes, searching for more information or recorded instances of encounters with voidstones. She is not seen leaving the keep for the rest of that day, nor well into the next.

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Kudark
 
PostPosted: Sun, Jun 26 2016, 15:51 PM 

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Joined: 14 Dec 2009
Location: The Dark Side of the Moon

Deep below Darkhold Keep. She pointed out the glow, ahead, and he followed her closer. A crystal in a large apparatus was glowing, eerily beautiful, in its own way, and radiating pulsing waves of negative energy, that could be felt by the two rangers. Movement near the device, and he came in to view, a dark robed mage, dead to the world, yet sentient. It spun as it noticed the company behind it, speaking out its surprise, and Crow paused, just briefly enough to flick an earring, which sent forth a burst of pure sunlight at the creature before them. The mage lunged to dodge the blast, towards the rangers, and Crow hesitated not, to put down this foe. The ranger had learned the hard way, that to hesitate, is to die, and the ringing in his ears, of the cries against him for his past hesitations, drove him into battle with this dangerous necromancer. Her calls to wait, and come back, were lost to the roar of his hatred for the abomination that he had to destroy. The rage inside him, filled him, and his blade is anathema to the undead that he faces. The Undead Hunter rises to his challenge, and charges the off balanced mage, sending it to the ground, where he slams his ancient sword against, and into the rotted body. Trying to cast, and defend itself, the mage somehow rises, only to be slammed to the ground again, weakened even more by the repeated strikes against it. With a mighty swing and a roar, Crow bashes his sword against the mage's head, only to have the thing explode in his face, dissipating into a myriad of flies, that quickly disperse, leaving naught but some tattered remains of robes. Slowly, ever so slowly, the rage subsides within him, as his lungs take in the precious air, and sound comes crashing back into his skull. He turns to looks back, she is alive, and that is what matters. He goes to her.

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