The Grand Magus wanted him to win the college land and loot to pay for his nefarious deeds. The only way to achieve land in this poor area would be to gain more power he reasoned.
Aaralon asked a wagon-bound traveller where the nearest enchanted artifact was. The merchant looked at him like he was mad.
"Get away from me you hooligan!" the Merchant casted Aaralon away and ordered his horses to speed up.
Aaralon questioned the rural village folk for questions and met only similar results. As Aaralon was going to find an inn to sleep in, three mounted soldiers road into the city. Their armor was in shambles and their faces were plastered with fright.
They shouted incoherently as they charged along the dirt path. They stopped at the village's center, a small paved circle with a dried well in the middle. Aaralon went to investigate.
"I plead with you! All of you! Please leave this place! Undead just ravaged Northolme! We were sent to assist the militia there, but we found the wretched city ablaze!"
The citizens thought the soldiers mad, they had never heard of or seen a pixie let alone something abominable as an animated corpse.
"Please! I beg of you! They will be here by sundown! We nearly escaped with our lives!" the soldier begged in vain. The crowd dispersed and the farmers resumed their work.
The three paladins sunk their heads in defeat and trotted off south.
"Well, if "Northolme" was ravaged by undead then going south must be where the main kingdom lies," Aaralon thought.
He looked up to the sky and saw the sun was beginning to start its descent. He would have to move quickly, for traveling at night was never safe, and if undead truly were coming they would be here soon.
"But... undead could be exactly what I need, there must be a necromancer behind a force of undead," Aaralon thought "And I'd be bound to find a magical source of power off a necromancer," Aaralon smirked.
Though Aaralon was only armed with a small knowledge of how to combat undead; if he were to stay it would be a rough and difficult battle. |