Arin opened his eyes to a sky painted in hues of twilight, the fading light casting long shadows over an unfamiliar landscape. The chill in the air was biting, far colder than anything he remembered. He lay there for a moment, feeling the coarse ground beneath him, the scent of pine and earth filling his nostrils. As he sat up slowly, the bones of his skeletal form clinked softly with the movement.
Gone were the familiar halls of his grand tomb, replaced by a rugged wilderness that stretched out as far as the eye could see. Towering mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks capped with eternal snow. The forest around him was dense and ancient, the trees standing as silent sentinels of a world untouched by time.
Arin stood, shaking off the disorientation. He took a deep breath, though he had no lungs, out of habit. This was not Primoris, where he had come to dominate. This was something different, something primal. He had to adapt, to understand this new realm if he was to survive and thrive once more.
He looked down at his skeletal hands, flexing the bony fingers. Magic still thrummed within him, a comforting reminder of his power. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind to sense the magical energies around him. The aura here was different, raw and untamed, but he could work with it.
As he began to walk, his steps making little noise on the forest floor, he considered his next move. Survival in this unknown land would require caution and cunning. He needed information, allies, and a base of operations. But first, he needed to find civilization.
Arin's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves. He turned, his empty eye sockets scanning the surroundings. From the shadows, a pair of glowing eyes watched him. A wolf, large and hungry, emerged, its growl low and menacing.
Arin raised a hand, summoning a small flame to his palm. The wolf hesitated, then backed away, sensing the danger. It was a reminder that while this world was new, his power remained a force to be reckoned with.
With the immediate threat gone, Arin continued his journey, his mind focused on the path ahead. He would conquer this new land, just as he had Primoris. But first, he needed to understand its secrets and learn its rules. Only then could he begin his ascent to power once more.
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I start walking through the dense forest, concentrating on assessing how much power I still possess. Did I even lose any? As I focus inward, the unsettling truth surfaces: I can only feel around 30% of my original powers. I also need to retrieve my almighty staff, the Vorrak'thul.
After walking for a while, I spot wisps of smoke curling above the trees. A village, perhaps? My instincts prove correct. I quickly hide behind the trees, not wanting to reveal my skeletal form. The inhabitants here are likely to be hostile toward an undead creature, much like they were in Primoris. I cast an illusion spell, wrapping myself in the guise of a human, and begin making my way toward the entrance of the village.
As I approach, I see a guard dressed in armor. He greets me with a nod and says, “Welcome to Fernwater.”
I nod my head in response, surprised that I can understand their language. “Thank you,” I reply, not wanting to arouse any suspicion.
Taking a look around the village, I notice it’s nothing remarkable—a blacksmith, an inn, a local trade shop, and a few wooden houses in various states of disrepair. I decide the best place to gather information is the inn.
I head inside the inn and take a seat in a corner, observing the other patrons. When the server approaches me, I realize I have no money. “If it’s alright, I’ll just rest a moment and be on my way,” I say.
“Very well,” the server replies, smiling. It seems that in smaller places like this, the people tend to be friendly.
I approach the barkeeper and take a seat in front of him. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, but I just crossed the border and don’t know where I am. Can you help me with some information?”
The barkeeper wipes his hands on a rag before leaning closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. “You’ve crossed into Norskyr, stranger. This land is steeped in history, both glorious and grim. We’re currently caught in a conflict between two factions—the Empire and the Skyward.”
He glances around the inn, ensuring no eavesdroppers are near. “The Empire is trying to maintain control over Norskyr, but the Skyward, led by Sigfrid Skyward, are fighting for independence. They believe the Empire has weakened us, especially after the banning of the worship of Throgar. Tensions are high, and skirmishes happen frequently. Just last week, there was a battle not far from here.”
He pauses, gauging my reaction before continuing. “The major cities in Norskyr are Windvale, Highwatch, and Frosthold. Windvale is a hub of trade and diplomacy, while Highwatch is the seat of the Empire’s power. Frosthold, on the other hand, is a stronghold for the Skyward, filled with those who want to throw off Imperial rule.”
He straightens up, crossing his arms. “But beware; the roads can be dangerous. Bandits and wild beasts roam the wilderness, and choosing sides in this war could have dire consequences.”
With that, the barkeeper leans back, allowing me a moment to process the information. The brewing conflict between the Empire and the Skyward could prove pivotal in my quest for power and knowledge in this new world.