Continued from Here.
58th Trial of Ashan, Arc 717
Etzos
Neronin had been exhausted from the events of the past few days. He held spent wholly too much time down at Noth’s cave, or gallivanting around the outskirts of the city hunting Gavrel with Kovic. Neronin hadn’t seen hide nor hair of either Gavrel and his thralls nor Kovic since that night a few trials previous in the woods. Neronin walked through the streets of Etzos toward his small, humble home. He hadn’t been there in days and looked forward to a night’s rest in his own bed, as opposed to the rough dirt floor of the headquarters cavern.
As he approached the narrow alleyway in which his house was tucked between a few others, Neronin wondered vaguely where Gavrel was now. Did he have Kovic? Did old Maws finally meet his end? Would he be able to outmaneuver the old master? As Neronin’s head filled with doubts about his predicament he turned the corner down the alleyway. Then he stopped.
His house was on fire. The orange flames licked out of the open door and the light from them brightened the opposite wall. Neronin gasped and began running. He skidded to a halt outside his door and looked inside, shielding his eyes with one arm. The door was ajar and it seemed to be on fire, his one room house was ransacked. Neronin kicked at the door and watched as it fell off it’s hinges. He coughed heavily as he stepped inside.
His eyes burned from the smoke and Neronin dropped to his hands and knees. He saw the table was upturned and the wall along the left had caught flame too. The chest in which he stored his belongings was opened and long flames danced from within. He hurried over to it, spitting up black ash and gasping for air. The contents of the chest were charred cinders by now. As he peered inside he saw a black mass that he knew to be his journal. It lay open atop the other contents which where his clothes and various tools, inkwells, quills, and tinderbox.
As Neronin turned to check the the hiding place where he stored his money his eyes fell on the only part of his house that wasn’t covered in dancing light from the few fires. In the corner where his bed was, as if waiting for him to notice, was a shadowy figure. Neronin recognized it. He had once made one of those figures rip a man apart. The haunt stood atop his bed, the light from the flames not illuminating its dark, shadowy silhouette. The only features Neronin could make out in any detail were the glowing purple eyes. Gavrel.
Neronin knew Gavrel stared back at him from those eyes. He knew he had sent the haunt to ransack his home, to murder him. Neronin felt his magic boil up in him along with his rage. His home! Gavrel had come and attacked him in his home! The necromantic spark within him burned with the emotions he felt. As the Haunt burst forward, claws manifesting on the ends of long tendril-like appendages Neronin threw a Sap at the thing. He watched as the shadows burst when the spell hit it and the thing screamed almost imperceptibly. The shadows swarmed around the spell, recoiling from it in all directions. He watched the Haunt slip across the ceiling and the wall. It moved towards the door and reformed itself silhouetted against the doorway. Neronin began summoning his power again, the green light of his witchbrand flickering as he did so.
The Haunt’s purple eyes bore into him, the undead hunger there even though it was only shadow and magic spun together. The thing seemed to be reforming it's clawed weapon appendages, but Neronin was ready for it. He sent another burst of the dark Sap spell at the thing and watched as it shifted aside and the miasma blew past. Neronin threw his magic into his own shadow, summoning for a second time ever the Haunt that he had used to kill so long ago. The two shadow monsters lunged at each other and Neronin watched as the black battle began.
58th Trial of Ashan, Arc 717
Etzos
Neronin had been exhausted from the events of the past few days. He held spent wholly too much time down at Noth’s cave, or gallivanting around the outskirts of the city hunting Gavrel with Kovic. Neronin hadn’t seen hide nor hair of either Gavrel and his thralls nor Kovic since that night a few trials previous in the woods. Neronin walked through the streets of Etzos toward his small, humble home. He hadn’t been there in days and looked forward to a night’s rest in his own bed, as opposed to the rough dirt floor of the headquarters cavern.
As he approached the narrow alleyway in which his house was tucked between a few others, Neronin wondered vaguely where Gavrel was now. Did he have Kovic? Did old Maws finally meet his end? Would he be able to outmaneuver the old master? As Neronin’s head filled with doubts about his predicament he turned the corner down the alleyway. Then he stopped.
His house was on fire. The orange flames licked out of the open door and the light from them brightened the opposite wall. Neronin gasped and began running. He skidded to a halt outside his door and looked inside, shielding his eyes with one arm. The door was ajar and it seemed to be on fire, his one room house was ransacked. Neronin kicked at the door and watched as it fell off it’s hinges. He coughed heavily as he stepped inside.
His eyes burned from the smoke and Neronin dropped to his hands and knees. He saw the table was upturned and the wall along the left had caught flame too. The chest in which he stored his belongings was opened and long flames danced from within. He hurried over to it, spitting up black ash and gasping for air. The contents of the chest were charred cinders by now. As he peered inside he saw a black mass that he knew to be his journal. It lay open atop the other contents which where his clothes and various tools, inkwells, quills, and tinderbox.
As Neronin turned to check the the hiding place where he stored his money his eyes fell on the only part of his house that wasn’t covered in dancing light from the few fires. In the corner where his bed was, as if waiting for him to notice, was a shadowy figure. Neronin recognized it. He had once made one of those figures rip a man apart. The haunt stood atop his bed, the light from the flames not illuminating its dark, shadowy silhouette. The only features Neronin could make out in any detail were the glowing purple eyes. Gavrel.
Neronin knew Gavrel stared back at him from those eyes. He knew he had sent the haunt to ransack his home, to murder him. Neronin felt his magic boil up in him along with his rage. His home! Gavrel had come and attacked him in his home! The necromantic spark within him burned with the emotions he felt. As the Haunt burst forward, claws manifesting on the ends of long tendril-like appendages Neronin threw a Sap at the thing. He watched as the shadows burst when the spell hit it and the thing screamed almost imperceptibly. The shadows swarmed around the spell, recoiling from it in all directions. He watched the Haunt slip across the ceiling and the wall. It moved towards the door and reformed itself silhouetted against the doorway. Neronin began summoning his power again, the green light of his witchbrand flickering as he did so.
The Haunt’s purple eyes bore into him, the undead hunger there even though it was only shadow and magic spun together. The thing seemed to be reforming it's clawed weapon appendages, but Neronin was ready for it. He sent another burst of the dark Sap spell at the thing and watched as it shifted aside and the miasma blew past. Neronin threw his magic into his own shadow, summoning for a second time ever the Haunt that he had used to kill so long ago. The two shadow monsters lunged at each other and Neronin watched as the black battle began.
Made by Kovic
