As I previously stated I made my way back down to Kingsport to visit with Lauren and tell her the news of Wycliffe and Norman. She didn’t seem very interested in what I had to say and could only talk of how trapped we all were. Like several of the other citizens, she seems a little single-minded and perhaps even a bit obsessed with her situation.

This left me somewhat dejected and although I visited several merchants to buy trinkets for my home, I left town in a rather sour mood. After placing some items around my home to make it look less dreary, I once against left for Owl’s Head. Why doesn’t Owl’s Wash have it’s own pub? I wonder if I could establish one of my own? A discussion for later perhaps.

While in Owl’s Head I again met up with Lord Enmar who asked for my help in a different way. Since I’ve brought ectoplasm back for him, he feels I might the right man for a bigger job. He told me of Winslow, a guard who lead a group of men into Ravenmoor, but they were immediately attacked by a group of the undead. Winslow was the only one to escape, but his injuries are severe and his emotional state is shaky. Enmar asked if I would go to Kingsport to retrieve healing herbs from the Alchemist there. I’ve made this journey before so he is confident I will make short work of the task. It was a chance to win favor in the town and I quickly set off.

Julia was easy to find and she seemed to know why I was there before I could even explain. She thrust some healing herbs in my hand and sent me on my way. Before I could offer to pay she was doing business with the other townspeople.

On my way out of town I noticed something peculiar as I crossed the bridge – an unusual gate placed into the massive stonework. What could that be? Where would that lead? I made a mental note to at least have a look when I returned.

But I quickly got back to Enmar and gave the healing herbs to Dreyfus. It seems he is no stranger to healing his broken men as he made an elixir and asked me to assist Winslow. Within minutes Winslow seemed a changed man. A calm swept over him and he relayed the story of his encounter with the undead. It seems the ruins of Ravenmoor, to the south of Braemar are a haven for undead skeletons. His men tried to investigate but they made no progress. He dares not adventure there again and asked for me explain the situation to Enmar as he took to his bed to get some rest.

Enmar overheard the conversation and said I should take up the mission and complete Winslow’s work. He asked for me to travel to Ravenmoor and report back on what I find there. He is confident I will at least find more of the undead and that his bounty for the ectoplasm stands firm. What the devil is he doing with it? Should I be concerned of his potential necromancy?

I took up the mission, but not before I returned to Kingsport to satisfy my curiosity about that iron gate. To my surprise it leads into the sewers. It was a rather foul place and I found the dripping water quite toxic against my skin. I don’t know what possessed me to continued down into that labyrinth of filth, but I soon found myself set upon by dozens of agents of the undead! No sooner had I dispatched one or two of them when another would join in. It was a hideous sight and I was beaten savagely. Why did I keep venturing further and further in? I must be losing my faculties!!

As I made my way through this maze and over the skeletal remains I soon found myself face to face with an abomination the likes of which I have never seen! A massive creature, terribly disfigured, that floated on air. It immediately fortified it’s powers and attacked me. We were locked in battle for ages! It wounded me and sent me sprawling multiple times. I lost my senses, but managed to retreat to a dark corner or side room until I could think clearly again. But finally, through means I don’t understand, I was victorious.

The body disappeared right before my eyes and I was alone in this chamber of horror. This hideous thing sat on a throne of bone, a gruesome relic of suffering. I had clearly lost my senses as I actually took it as souvenir and ran out of this place. I’m going slightly mad. This place is having an ill effect on me. Why I placed it outside my home for all to see is something I can’t answer.

But this was only part of the madness that befell me. I made my way to Braemar and found the man they call Seamus. There are mixed feelings about him in this town, but he has suffered a terrible anguish and I believe at the hands of the undead. He was adamant that something be done about the dangers that lie in the ruins. He told me to go and see for myself. He said I should join Halmar and fight to save this town.

I hope I don’t end up like him.

Without really considering the dangers I went in search of these ruins. I found far more than I bargained for as this place was alive with the undead. This world begins to feel of a necropolis.

I wanted no more battles for the night, but in my confusion to make a strategic retreat I found myself in yet another catacomb riddled with peril. And yet again, a force seemed to push me ever forward into darkness. I fought battle after battle. The sound of bones crunching under my feet filled this grim chamber.

The area was so vast that I became disoriented multiple times. I lost my way and found myself back in rooms I have previously left. It seemed that I may die down there and join the ranks of the undead myself.

But through burning eyes of anger I pressed on and found myself in a place where the floor literally shot up with deadly designs. I was in too deep and had to go forward. I was injured quite badly but ultimately made my way into a vast chamber. I wasn’t alone in this place, for floating through the air was another horrid apparition. A twin to the demon I faced in Kingsport! He beat me savagely, my armor and weapon no match for his ethereal ways. As I lay faced down in the muck and filth, I thought the end had come for me. It was my fate to die alone in the refuse of this ruin. Another nameless pile of bones.

I don’t think it’s cowardice to run when you’re completely outnumbered. I summoned the strength and hauled myself out of that room. I don’t know how long it took me to wind my way back out. Time has no meaning when the string of death is being plucked upon.

My work wasn’t done. Leaving that catacomb only put me back in the forest where the undead roam. I was nowhere near salvation. I was broken and had a vast landscape to cover before I would be free of this madness. Again, I felt the angel of death sitting with me.

I had come this far and if I was to die, I would die on my feet, not slumped in the corner. I pulled myself together and in a fit of desperation and fear I made a mad dash across the open field seeking shelter behind rocks and crags of the ruin. The arrow of the skeleton footman pierced me multiple times. I heard the ring of the armor and felt the stab of the bolt. I didn’t have the strength or presence of mind to fight back. All I could do was run.

How I escaped I don’t think I’ll ever know.

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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