Lorkal spat blood onto the cracked floor as he casually brushed soot from his robes, “Fucking demon.” The charred husk of the demon they had released still lay smoldering on the floor in front of him. Roland looked different, weaker and less of himself and they knew it was going to take some work from Sinclair to get him back to normal. Ivan and Lorkal setup a defensive perimeter as best they could and let Sinclair and Roland get some rest. Domingo took to his new found post of watching over the child and after a few hours Sinclair had Roland right as rain and the group pushed forward.
They moved at a crawl, Roland took the lead and disabled numerous traps as he went. Datatomapoplous was rarely conscious now and made for poor conversation as he bounced along strapped to Ivan’s back. Lorkal offered a slight sigh as they continued on and not for the first time he wondered how many Dungeons and amazing quests this group had in them before their luck finally ran out.
Dormitories. They had to be, much like the school where he had first trained before all of this adventuring had started. There was a struggle here, Roland led them into each room and more of the puzzle was revealed although answers seemed to be in short supply. One thing seemed certain, Nox’amon was part of this. Confusion…the time period didn’t add up, something was wrong – It was like they were looking into the past, watching the Master of Necromancy take the final plunge into the void and emerging the Lich. This must had been years ago…Decades…Centuries? Lorkal didn’t know and he was starting to like their prospects of getting out of here even less.
The Orb. The god damn Orb. The item he had been brought back to life to obtain. It was here…Unguarded…and it was amazing. Life. Death. Birth. Everything everywhere was in this orb. The group couldn’t figure it out, they scoured the Journal of Mistress Bianca, whom they believed may have had some insight into it and they came upon a magical script that none could read except the author. Fuck, Lorkal thought…For all we know we are standing hundreds of years in the past and the only person who can read this may be centuries back to the mud.
One thing was unanimous – The Dragon could not get this Orb. He was immensely powerful, and wholly evil. The Crossroads, and more specifically Lorkal, toed the line of Evil but up until this point their actions overall had never been out of malice or hatred – They could not say the same for this Dragon. If they gave him his orb that might very well be cursing this realm to a darker fate than they could predict….And that did not sound good for business.
“Fuck the Dragon, Fuck the forest – Nox’Amon dies and the Contract is fulfilled. We aren’t the Order of the Brightspear or the Kings Own…We don’t travel the realms performing heroic deeds for those in need out of the goodness of our hearts. We do the job as we always have. We stay alive and we live to see the next contract.” The debate was short lived – Although some of them didn’t feel as strongly about it as Lorkal ,the decision made was along the same lines – The Job came first, they would figure these other issues out later.
The Dormitories held clues to the fall of the Master of Necromancy and his rebirth as Nox’amon the Lich. The final piece of the puzzle was when Roland stumbled upon his Phylactery in his old quarters. The group kept it in case it would prove useful later. After checking all the rooms, and coming across a few magical items, they pushed forward and upwards – To the 8th floor.
Books. Magical Tomes. Histories of nations long ago turned to dust. Lorkal could have cried it was so beautiful. What was that? That fucking stench…The fucking guttural growl…That god damned Telepathic voice. Demon. Lorkal darted glances at his companions, from their expressions he could tell they were receiving communication as well. Not good.
He shot a few idle threats back telepathically, he knew where this was going though. A Nox’Amon pawn left to deal with intruders would not be bargained with. Lorkal turned his head to left, popping his next as he prepared to mouth the words for a Spell he had never attempted, his most powerful to date. But…Nothing…He felt his intelligence slip away..The words were lost. The thoughts were gone. His mind, always open and grabbing every tid bit of information was closed. Who were these people around him? Friends he thought. Maybe. This was hell, there could be no doubt. Without his mind….He was nothing. Nothing.
Who..Who was next to him. Touching him, the words were infused with something. He felt the door open. He was bathed in the light of information, of thought, of power. He was back, thank you Sinclair. As he came back to his senses he saw that the battle had already begun to take shape. They all knew this dance and they were fucking good at it. Blades and Spells made quick work of the Demon and none of them were too worse for wear. What the hell did that Demon say his name was? Dalaramananananomia. Really rolled off the tongue, shame he wouldn’t see reason and join the winning side.
Behind the library there was a door – Roland got it open and they saw the sun scorched desert on the other side, a lone hut was in the distance. They all went through the door and immediately the sweltering heat hit them. They approached the hut and came upon an Archmagi…Yarra. Oh fuck. Lorkal knew that name, he knew it from his classes at the Mage School. And he knew that Yarra was a powerful Archmage from several thousand years ago. He silently prayed they didn’t just lock themselves in the past.
Yarra proved to be an ally. He fought Nox’Amon and was banished here. He was now cursed, unable to utilize spells that allowed for teleporting or spacial shifting of any kind. But he knew how to help and required us to get several books from a Library in southern Scrotasia. One book would give him the knowledge to break his curse and the other would show us how to bind Nox’Amon to one Phylactery. Yarra also gave us a key to utilize the portal on the lower floor – This allowed us to Teleport back to Scrotasia from the school and avoid having to confront of the Dragon, at least for awhile.
We teleported to a small building not far from Intercity – Once there Lorkal got them back to The Crossroads. Something had been different with the time, although they had been gone less then a week it seemed that over three months had passed since they began their journey. They would need to be careful next time they were in that school. That also gave Nox’Amon three more months to do as he pleased. Time was of the essence – They had Kenrick secure them passage on the next ship heading south and then the party set out.