The Night Shift (21/4) - Leonida
Apr 22, 2022 4:49:20 GMT
Anthony, Velania Kalugina, and 1 more like this
Post by Leonida on Apr 22, 2022 4:49:20 GMT
A letter is dropped on the doorstep of a seemingly empty townhouse in Port Ffirst. The wax seal on the parchment bears the device of a Faerûnian coat of arms — a per chevron shield with a tower charge, a lion passant regardant borne atop an open knight’s helm as its crest. A practiced hand has written the letter’s contents in Infernal:
I greet thee, Father—
I have been mark’d by a necromancer. It is on my left shoulder. It seems to be a stylised rendition of the Common letter P.
A druid who was with me said it is not a script of any tongue but rather a symbol of the necromancer's own creation.
She was carelessly raising undead in the cemetery of Daring Heights. She called it “experimenting”. A young humanoid woman; auburn hair, fair skin, eyes entirely black. I know not her name.
My consciousness slipp'd briefly from me during battle. I saw the darkness but neither felt the fires nor heard the war cries of Hell. Instead I felt my being pulled into a black void.
There were spectators of the battle. They said a pale, ghostly hand rose from the ground and laid its palm on my shoulder. Where it touch’d me now lays the mark.
I saw also a pale wisp of an orb hovering stationary near us during the battle. It disappear’d quickly.
I know not what this means. Yet the mark disturbs me not; it gives me no sensations, good or ill. It is inconsequential, as is a lowly corpse-raiser before the Fallen One’s might.
I take solace in having held my own in the fight against her and her horde. However, it is an undeniable truth that many strong warriors and powerful mages dwell in the Dawnlands — a truth I saw with clarity tonight in those who fought beside me.
I will get stronger.
Glory, glory.
L.
I greet thee, Father—
I have been mark’d by a necromancer. It is on my left shoulder. It seems to be a stylised rendition of the Common letter P.
A druid who was with me said it is not a script of any tongue but rather a symbol of the necromancer's own creation.
She was carelessly raising undead in the cemetery of Daring Heights. She called it “experimenting”. A young humanoid woman; auburn hair, fair skin, eyes entirely black. I know not her name.
My consciousness slipp'd briefly from me during battle. I saw the darkness but neither felt the fires nor heard the war cries of Hell. Instead I felt my being pulled into a black void.
There were spectators of the battle. They said a pale, ghostly hand rose from the ground and laid its palm on my shoulder. Where it touch’d me now lays the mark.
I saw also a pale wisp of an orb hovering stationary near us during the battle. It disappear’d quickly.
I know not what this means. Yet the mark disturbs me not; it gives me no sensations, good or ill. It is inconsequential, as is a lowly corpse-raiser before the Fallen One’s might.
I take solace in having held my own in the fight against her and her horde. However, it is an undeniable truth that many strong warriors and powerful mages dwell in the Dawnlands — a truth I saw with clarity tonight in those who fought beside me.
I will get stronger.
Glory, glory.
L.
