Chance winced sharply as he hurried over to where Shags lay; there was still the pain and the cold from the touch of the revenant, the remnants of the nasty fight, of the type that he wanted to avoid again at all costs if at all possible. It might not actually be real, but it felt more than real and he couldn’t help but feel concerned for his companions. He knelt down by the big wolf. Shags remained alive, as evidenced by the way he grumbled away in Chance’s mind, though he was not in the best shape, half frozen from the touch of the revenant and bleeding from a number of wounds, his coat stained dark from blood.
Uthaq. Chance went to work, healing up the wolf, soothing his wounds. It took a number of uses of the Nature’s Breeze to fully restore Shags. Yrip came hobbling over to join them as he tended to the wolf. The little kobold was looking pretty sorry for himself, clutching at his side.
“You did well, Yrip,” Chance told him, turning his healing arts onto him next.
Yrip grinned then grimaced. “Yrip will know better next time,” he said mournfully.
“We all will,” Chance said, “Though I would much prefer that there is no next time to start with.”
There are times where we have no choice, Shags noted. There is much danger out there, much evil and it must be opposed, no matter the risk or cost.
Chance frowned and shook his head, but could find no words to respond to that. He didn’t like the sound of that, taking responsibility for such struggles. We all must do our part. Amber’s words came back to him, words that had troubled and haunted him too often. Shags’ words were far too much like it for his comfort.
Only when he had finished healing the other two did he turn to himself, washing away the pain and wounds he had suffered with his healing arts.
It was only then that he realised that the skeletons were no longer moving, no longer reforming. He had been so preoccupied in the battle with the revenant, and then dealing with the aftermath of it, that he had forgotten all about them.
He started to look around the chamber, to really take it in. There had not really been time when he first entered, not with the distractions of the undead and the battle that had followed. Beside the entrance by which they had arrived, there were no other exists to be seen. The chamber was a dead end. Its true purpose could not be readily told, and though it was of dwarven make, the undead themselves had not been of dwarven origin. They were too tall for that.
Now that he had a moment to study them, to really take it all in, they did not appear exactly human either. Their bodies were a bit too long for that, a bit too thin. The revenant was the same way too. While flesh still clung to its bones, old dried out flesh, its features had been hard to make out at the time. Chance prodded at its body with his spear.
It is dead, Shags told him. Well, fully dead now.
It wasn’t human, Chance responded. The features of its face were thin, and sharp, even haughty. Not even death had been able to mask that. Long dark hair flowed from its head but had been thinned out by death,
They were all elves before their deaths, Shags noted.
Strange then that they would have been entombed here.
Not really, Shags told him. They would have been placed to keep them from causing trouble.
Didn’t seem to have fully worked then.
They are not always the easiest to deal with, but this lot would appear to have been here a long time.
Chance consulted the parchment again, to find out what exactly it as they had fought, and what could be done different if they ever had to do so again.
Knowledge unlocked: Revenant
Knowledge: Lore [Undead]
Revenants are undead who have become infused by the elements of ice and cold. While not truly aware and intelligent as some undead are, they are not fully mindless either, operating at what appears a subconscious level. Their presence stirs other, lesser undead into action, and their defeat breaks the hold they have other the other undead.
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Stats: Body: 2. Mind: 1. Soul: 1. Reaction: 1. Presence: 1. Perception: 0.
Affinities: Ice
Powers; Rime Touch, Ice Shard, Ice Barrier, Frost Flesh
Type: Undead
Now the lack of activity from the skeletons made sense; the revenant had been behind them. Next time they would have to deal with the revenant first, though he hoped sincerely there would be no next time.
“Have a look around,” Chance told the others. “We still need to find the source of this blight and to defeat it. The revenant may have been empowering the skeletons but the quest hasn’t been completely so it can’t have been responsible.”
Together the trio started to search around the chamber, exploring it, poking in the corners, all the while being bathed in the sickly green light that came from the runes upon the walls. Chance had a look at them, to see if he could figure out what they were and what they did; no messages came up in his mind. Whatever they were, they were beyond his understanding, his knowledge. They must require specific lore or affinities to get anything from them, he reasoned.
The chamber was largely empty, but they found what they were searching for tucked at the back of the chamber, obscured from vision behind the large stone chair that the revenant had been sitting in.
A small brazier sat there, a thing made of iron and silver, and expertly crafted. It took the form of the tree, its branches woven together to form the central container that held the flames, so that the light would shine out through them. A bed of coals rested in it, but what stood out was the object on top of the coals, a shard of ice. No ordinary ice did it appear to be, for not only had it not melted but trapped within it was a faintly glowing green light that matched the light from the runes.
As they stood there looking at it, Yrip began to reach out for the shard.
“Best not, Yrip,” Chance warned as he grabbed at Yrip’s arm to stop the little kobold. The thing hurt to look at, the tightening of his chest at its worst. There was no indication as to how the shard worked, only that he could sense the corruption radiating from it, the corruption that infected the land around.
We must destroy it, Shags snarled. Smash it, rend it. Chance could feel the vehemence with which the wolf viewed the shard, a distaste that went beyond words. Shags wanted it gone.
Chance took his spear and slammed the butt of it into the shard, expecting it would shatter as ice would normally do. Instead the butt struck and bounced, a jarring blow that shot through his arms, leaving the shard unmarred.
“Biscuits,” he muttered, ringing out his left arm, trying to get some feeling back into it. He might as well have been trying to break stone.
“Ice melts, master,” Yrip pointed out helpful.
“But does magic ice?” he asked.
Only one way to find out.
Chance stared at the coals sitting in the brazier. Avaq. The flow of power left him, the now familiar surge, and went into the coals; they started to smoulder at first and then began to burn. The flames took a hold and soon wreathed the shard of ice.
The trio slowly shuffle backwards from the brazier, uncertain as to what might happen and wary as a result. The could hear a crackling and a fizzling from the fire yet the ice shard sat there in the flames, looking unaffected.
“It isn’t working,” scowled Chance.
Give it some time.
Chance nodded, though personally he doubted that waiting would do anything if the flames had not already done so. They were even beginning to fade despite plenty of coal being left. It was if the cold of the ice shard was defeating them.
Avaq. On a whim he focused his will upon the fuel again and sent more power into it. The flames leapt back to life, glowing hot. A third time he did so and a roaring blaze filled the brazier, white-hot in intensity. Even at a distance they could feel the heat radiate from it.
A sudden crack filled the air, a loud, sharp sound, and he ice shard broke apart.
From out of it rose a cloud of green, still aglow with the sickly green light. Vaguely man shape it was, or elf shaped as the case maybe, dancing above the flames. Then it began to drift, and they scattered out of its way, for it was headed their direction and they were loathe to let it touch them.
Knowledge Check
Affinity: Lore [Undead]
Type: Corrupted Soul
So yet another undead to deal with; Chance had thought that the revenant had been the boss fight. It appeared now that it had only been the precursor. If this one was as hard as the previous, he was not looking forward to what was to come.
Vasqut! The stone leapt through the air as he spun it forth, to pass right through the ghostly form of the corrupted soul. How was he meant to deal with a ghost without a proton pack to hand?
The corrupted soul drifted further along, until it came to the stone chair and the body of the revenant. There it began to descend, sinking down into the body on the ground. It twitched and then rose up, hovering in the air once more, turning about to face them, eyes glowing balefully.
“I am free,” it whispered, “Aliant yv esen asur. Syr valan as asalia! And now you die.”