Best Laid Plans of Jerks and Men

I've found that I frequently wake up in places I'm not entirely sure of how I got there, and I'm in pain/danger.  This is the problem of living the adventurer lifestyle.  Its not like a farmer wakes up one day out in the middle of a field with one arm broken and a twisted ankle and tries to remember if the fields he planted suddenly turned on him (well a good farmer anyway, I'm sure there are some kind of weird super mutant plants out there taking over the world as we speak). So it was no surprise when I woke up in that grove of trees my ribs singing the songs of pain and I could see a lone swordsman approaching my position.

I could tell he was a swordsman from the hilt behind his head, and that he wore no outward sign of a pistol or rifle.  His clothes were refined, clearly some form of noble or someone for whom work was a dirty word. I didn't see a horse, so he either walked or left it somewhere else, supringly the horse I had managed to drag to the grove was still there, grazing comfortably unconcerned with the world at large. I was on my feet to greet my new potential enemy despite the pain of doing so.

"All those years of planning, arranging a moron on the throne, and here one disciple of death ruins it." The mouth was moving, but the words were that of the creature.  I could make out the mans eyes, or where they should have been, instead blackened little orbs were in their place.

"Ahh the thing from the sewers, or part of him anyway." I'd had an all to close situation of almost becoming someone elses meat suit once, though I hadn't heard of a creature using a person in that role while maintaing their own self somewhere else, clearly this beast was not just a simple thing.

"I told Rojove to have you killed, but instead his curiosity got the better of him, I myself could have killed you, but wanted to see you struggle, now I see my ego has hurt my plans, not destroyed them, but hurt them."

"I'd apologize but my ribs tell me to tell you screw off." He lashed out with an ice attack I could see it coming and summoned a wall of flame in response, the two magics slammed into each other and dissipated.

"I see, the old fashioned way then?" He drew his sword, I could see the blade had an eery red aura. I drew my own sword and I could see he was leery when the blue blade came out of its sheath (or it could have been my amazing sword stance of take my sword out and hold it up like it was a spear). I was at a downside in a two ways, his sword was longer, and from his stance he knew more about using a sword than I did (despite living over a hundred years I'm still a passable swordsman, today I'm much better you know, like at least fifty percent better, thats a lot of percents).  I wasn't about to let him have the upper hand more than being a better swordsman already was so I decided to attack first (because nothing makes a person more afraid than a haphazard strike). I went for a horizontal slash across his body which he easily parried and spun me around, I felt the sword swing by my chest as I tried to find my footing. I stepped back, we stood across from each other, he changed stances and came charging.  I ignited the ground near his feet and that surprised him, while he was stunned I threw my sword (when in doubt go for broke).  The blade pierced him in his chest and he howled.

"You cheated."

"I don't recall agreeing to any rules before hand." I kicked his sword away and drove mine in deeper, his howls increased.

"I am but one of many disciple of death, more will come for you!"

"Well tell them I'll be waiting." He opened his mouth and black liquid spewed out like the worst vomit ever, I hopped backwards with my sword and fell on butt (which oddly also hurt my ribs damn things just liked to hurt).  It was bad enough that Ronerawth wanted to kill me, now some weird demigod creature that could overtake even magical users too? I tell you when I screw up, I screw up big time. The Lorentino motto "Don't just casually mess up, mess up with a god involved." I'll admit I have a lot of motto's and none of them are ever good. A less optimistic person would take that as a sign...

The Battle of Rolak

Historian accounts vary on the battle of Rolak.  I'll include two such accounts so you can get a feel for how history is written by those who stand the most to gain.

"The battle of Rolak started out as a merchant uprising.  Spurred on by incorrect claims of high taxes and road tolls, the merchants assaulted a nearby artillery training operation and exploded the ordinance there, during the assault several artillery shots were misattributed to Ronerawth military but in fact were the merchants trying to draw citizen support.  Claims of Followers of the Fire God directly and openly attacking Ronerawthian military are widely discredited.  Damage to Rolak proper is also widely misattributed, some claim half the city burnt down with thousands dead gunned down by Ronerawth military forces, these claims are preposterous and in fact most likely made up by the very merchants who held the town post battle."

As you can probably guess this account was written by a person trying to desperately show that the uprising was caused by greedy merchants, and Ronerawth would never ever assault its own citizens.  Now for a different account.

"The battle of Rolak was started by the empire of Ronerawth, they brutally murdered a family of four at a toll road including raping one of the women before killing her.  After there was outcry in the city at this terrible act the Ronerawthian military turned their artillery on the city proper, most of the citizen in the city were murdered in the assault with some estimates as high as 90% of the population.  It was only a horrific act of sacrifice from an unnamed citizen to light the artillery batteries on fire that ended the shelling and allowed the remaining citizens to toss off their oppressors and reclaim Rolak (what was left of it) for their own."

As you can see the truth is in the middle, well sort of, there isn't really a middle between blatant lies (I should know, uhhh not that I lie ever... of course, moving on).  No entry thankfully mentions my involvement, and few mention the Followers of Fire, for much the same reason. Its unbelieveable to think a revolution was started by flame throwing magic user and a religion that believes in martial conflict.  Much easier to think it was simply citizens taking back their government with little to know outside help.  Works for me, I'd rather my mark on history not be noted, because I want to live forever, and everyone knowing where I've been and what I've been doing kind of screws that up.  So aside from this journal which hopefully is never discovered, I'm free from notation in most of histories accounts of anything. Kind of sad now that I think about it, I'm happy to be unknown, well aside from owning a shop in a major port city currently, shhh, best to hide in plain sight.

Martyr I Don't Even Know Her

The sound of bullets smashing into brick walls you are standing next to is a very easy thing to notice.  There's a smack and then a bang from not too far off, in our case there were a lot of smacks and a lot of bangs.  I couldn't help but feel sitting in a building with a bunch of Maritus's followers probably wasn't the wisest tactical decision, it seemed to be holding back the rifle bullets good enough, but what of artillery? Or with the amount of fire being directed at the building, bigger harder bullets?

"Maristus I realize you and yours are having a blast, but what about when they shell the building with their artillery? Or you know set it on fire or something?" It was a valid statement, seeing Maristus smile as he worked the lever on his rifle and made the area below the tenement a wall of death.  Other followers were doing the same, their return fire was definately killing more Ronerawth military than any of the followers were suffering casulties.  In fact I hadn't seen any of the Followers go down.

"Of course, we shall be Martyrs to the great cause of war, other temples shall hear of our brave sacrifice and murder the Ronerawths in response.  You will have started a revolution!"

"A revolution in which I'm dead Maristus! Martyrdom is not my thing!" I tried to shout over the gunfire, but I don't think he heard me, "What was all that about you needing me to stage a coup because of my knowledge?"

"Pacification, just needed you here until the bullets hit, I don't think you'd run now." He smiled, I wanted to kill him but figured the Ronerawths would do the trick. "Besides I don't think they'll use artillery on their own city." The explosion that ripped a hole in the roof and thudded against the building said differently.

"You were saying?" The roof was now on fire, and other explosions started tearing the building to shreds.  I had to get out of there, Maristus may have been willing to die for his cause, but I did not live a hundred years to die in some dumb rebellion. I didn't really get much of a choice in my exit, one of the shells hit behind me as I was trying to see if I could leap from the third floor area and cascading to the ground I went, the fire god must have been watching after me in her cruel heart because my fall was broken by the corpses of Ronerawths former military members, it still hurt on my ribs like no pain should feel, but I was alive. If I wanted to stay that way I had to get on the move, I had landed in a back courtyard near an alleyway, more artillery was coming, but because of the loudness of the gunfire and explosions I couldn't tell from which direction.  I just trusted to my sense of direction and fear of getting caught in an explosion and ran.  It actually worked out fairly well now that I remember it, I was making a good headway out of the city and feeling pretty good about myself until I ran smack dab into the Ronerawth artillery that had been pounding where I was.  It was shortly out of the city with a line of soldiers manning large cannons, they were shoving in the explosive powder and then the projectile after it.  I could see from the stacks of both and the dozens of cannons they were intendending on leveling the entire city if they had to.

At first no one did anything different they kept on loading their guns and firing off, and then the soldiers manning them looked at me and a cry went up.  I didn't exactly have a lot of time to come up with a plan, if I ran back in they might just shell me, if I tried to run past them same thing.  I did notice the powder was stacked pretty neatly as were the cannons next to it.  I guess they hadn't anticipated fire magic.  With a wave of my hand the entire world ignited, the sound was deafening, in fact I lost my hearing for what seemed like hours, but at most had been minutes.  What had been a wall of cannons in front of me became an explosion of sight and screams. I was lost, deaf, partially blinded from the explosion and wandering towards it instead of away (couldn't go back to the city, army was all over it).  Somehow in my haze I caught the reins of a loose horse and the beast in its fear took off (I bet it too was blinded by the explosion I had caused).  In case you were wondering, being half dragged by a horse running in fear? Yeah it hurts a lot with wounded ribs.  I finally got the beast to slow down near a grove of trees.  From where I was I could see the city was burning, the outside was burning, smoke was everywhere (thankfully wind was blowing it away from me).  The revolution was on, and I was thankfully out of it, or so I thought.  Tomorrow I shall speak more my revolutionary experience.  Till then know that you are never really free, ever, especially when what you are fighting is not what you expect.

On Emperors and Confict

"What do you know of the Emperor, Lorentino?" The lead follower, Brother Maristus was speaking.  We'd moved to the barracks for the Followers.  Maristus had the church be reinforced by his best people in preperation for the assault, I figured he'd let the women and children leave in the distraction, but saw they too were arming and getting ready for the assault; to the followers everyone is a fighter.

"A lot actually, well more and more everyday, but I know the layout of the palace, where weak points are, and a plan for assaulting and taking it." The ambassadors memories originally just an annoyance awash in my brain now were actually going to be useful.

"Are you some kind of revolutionary?" I could see Maristus was a bit leery of my information, I would be if someone who caused me troubles suddenly started talking about plans for taking down the empire.

"I knew one in a manor of speaking, I could tell you the details, but I can't recall the followers stance with regards to certain magics." Maristus had provided me some cigars at a request (if I'm going out, I'm going out like a champ) he smiled and lit his own cigar.  The room we were in was pretty dark, lit by only one lamp, a small bookshelf was next to a couple padded chairs, there was one window with a couple rifles next to it.

"I see, so you're a necromancer."

"Damn does everyone know about us or something? Was there an uprising while I was gone?"

"No, but there was once a Follower who hung out with one a while ago, when she passed her journal was given to our church, in it she went over your peoples practices and abilities." I had to wonder if Lorissia ever committed my name to the journal, I'm guessing not or Maristus would know that necromancer was me.

"Yes I'm a necromancer, I was originally living far up north but was brought south to look in the mind of a rebel traitor, an Ambassador of some renown.  Upon doing that I was imprisoned and then sent to search the sewers which through a series of unfortunate accidents brought me to you."

"You say unfortunate accidents I say divine intervention." The religious always willing to accept the hand of a god in their daily life.

"I thought the Fire God only aided in conflict."

"And did you not bring a glorious conflict to us? Indeed, you also bring with you the means of deposing a tyrant who imposes his will not through good policy, but one of thievery and murder.  The Fire God brought you here to destroy this Emperor and through a glorious conflict.  You may not worship her, but you must believe!" I was about to offer a reply when gunfire sounded out below, the battle had been joined and Maristus and I were about to be thrust in it.  The time for talking had sadly come to a close.

Pray The World Away

I seperated from Tarnak, telling him I'd meet back up with him when he decided to leave and go back to his farm up north.  He was a bit sad, but understood I needed to pray (a damn lie, but its not like I could tell him I didn't want him getting killed because of his involvement with me).  It also wasn't a total lie because I had decided on hiding out at one of the local Followers of Fire buildings.  They were structurally sound, surrounded by people who literally worship conflict, and it fit in better with my cover story.  The followers aren't big on advertising their precence in a city, but their circular stone buildings are hard to miss, as are the men in blood red robes outside of them.  I kept my face covered and went inside.

Inside was the huge fire pit I'd seen all those years ago when I first met Lorissia, the interior almost looked like it was lifted straight from that temple.  There were followers of all kinds walking to and fro, no one harrased me as I took a moment to sit down at one of the stone benches a couple back from the fire.  It was hot inside, almost unbearably so, it was summer outside, and keeping a roaring fire inside a large stone building probably wasn't the best idea for not having people pass out from the heat.  I was sitting with my head bowed when I heard a disturbance and saw a bunch of Ronerawthian military barge in.

"Something I can help you with gentleman?" The head follower looked more like the leader of a group of bandits than a religious person. Even wearing the long robes of a worshiper I could see muscles bulging underneath, he also was missing an eye and had a nasty scar to go with it.

"One of your attacked a toll, we demand you turn him over to us." I tried not to move or show any interest with what was going on, I didn't see one of the men who I had attacked from the day before, but that didn't mean they hadn't given my description.

"Your toll? You mean your robbing the people of their goods for protection that never comes? Why must my followers patrol the slums, while your garrison sits getting fat? Why must the Emperor demand of us a fee for being in the city, yet provide us nothing in return?" His arguments sounded rehearsed to an extent, I could also see that he had placed a hand on his sword, and that the weapon looked like it was used for a lot more than ceremony.

"You forget your place priest." The guard captain had five men with him, but he was outnumbered by the followers, and the other people who had been milling about now had surrounded his small garrison.

"You forget yours parasite." From beneath robes rifles were drawn, the Garrison was now staring down about twenty different barrels of various different rifles.

"We shall not forget this! The emperor will hear of this insolence!"

"Good tell him that I'm done paying his fees, and that if he wishes to discuss it in person I'll be happy to arrange a meeting." The Ronerawth military boys ran, I figured they might have wanted to show they weren't afraid, but like a dog who had just been kicked they fled as fast as their feet can carry them.  Rifles were returned to robes, words were had amongst members, I breathed a sigh of relief until I felt a heavy steady hand on my shoulder.

"Nice to see you today brother, though I don't believe I've ever seen you worshipping here before."  It was of course the leader from before, I was had, I could try and fight, but I had seen how fast the rifles had come out, and this guy didn't look like the type to go down easy.

"New convert?" My voice was meek.

"Right, not wearing the robes and covering your face, totally a follower of fire." His voice was jovial, but I couldn't be sure if this was just the rattle before the strike.

"Ok not exactly one of your number."

"You don't say? Let me guess you are who they are really looking for." I had stood up and was now facing my accuser, he wasn't holding on to his sword and he'd let go of my shoulder, but I was still within easy striking distance.

"I may have been involved in an incident with a toll road, and possibly have used the Fire God's name to get myself out of trouble." I tried to size the man up, I mean my ribs hurt, but I was still a necromancer and had taken bigger in my time.

"Well then you did the world a favor, the Emperor has betrayed his people, sooner or later this conflict was going to erupt, better here and now than in Dunlok I guess." It was not a reaction I expected. I was about to leave when I felt his hand on me again."And where do you think you're going?"

"Elsewhere I mean if you guys are going to war."

"Because of you then you will stand and fight with us, you can not use our God's name for your conflict and expect to walk away.  No you will join us in the fight, and earn the blood you would have us shed." Great I just wanted to hide out from a fight, and now I joined a war.  You know with how my life goes, I should have expected this.  You hear that Tarnak whereever your soul came to rest, this is all your fault!

Toll Roads are For Suckers

I could see the smokestacks of Rolak in the distance, it was comforting how far we had come from Dunlok the boring capitol of the empire to Rolak.  Tarnak had proved at least a humerous companion, he told me stories of rural mischief, stuff like letting food animals into peoples houses, or stealing small objects and placing them in difficult to reach places to mess with the elderly (funny to me). He actually spent the whole time talking, talking about his life, his wife, his two kids.  It was refresing to have someone else talk (and because speaking hurt my ribs). I found out the cargo we were carrying was spices from the northern farms, they helped preserve local meats and mask the meats putrid flavor should it have gone bad, so they were extremely valuable, and my new partner had a lot of them.  Which unfortunately meant he was a bigger target for bandits, its why he was happy I agreed to help him out.

We had transitioned nicely from the desert around Dunlok to the rolling green fields near Rolak when we ran into trouble. I had earlier asked Tarnak for a scarf like he was wearing to keep the dust out of my face (it also obscured my face like his, my true purpose for wearing the scarf), so I figured we were safe to travel the road from prying eyes of the Ronerawth military. How wrong I was.  There was an impomptu road block set up outside of town, it looked to be staffed with Ronerawth military, but I couldn't tell at first.  People were coming and going and looked to be paying for the pleasure.  It seemed strange to do because the road was just a path in the middle of a green field, nothing prevented people from just side stepping the barricade and moving on. And yet they lined up with their wagons, goods, or just by themselves.  Tarnak and I got in line with his pack animals behind us, I was more than a little nervous as we approaced the front.

"Toll road, we accept coin, goods, or services." The soldier repeated the line as he had been saying it to everyone coming through.

"Services? What possibly could we do to service you?" As soon as I said it I regretted it immediately, the gleam in his eye was not one that warranted bickering.

"Well obviously nothing you could do, but should have you have any female companions you'd be willing to spare, but seeing as you don't, its either coins or goods." Tarnak looked at me pleadingly, I guess he didn't have any coins or wasn't expecting a toll.

"Whats this a toll for? I can just avoid your little gathering and continue on to Rolak." One of the other soldiers of which there were three others cocked his rifle.

"And we can just declare you both traitors to the regime and have you shot." Their leader apparently had given this speach before, from behind me I could hear some grumbles about letting people past and just pay the damn toll. I looked at the rifle the soldier had cocked at me and it looked like an older version, with an exposed breach.

"This man is under my protection and under my protection we pay no tolls, stand aside or face the consequences." They all moved back to take up firing positions I heard the intake of breath from Tarnak and the people behind us fled to the surrounding countryside.

"You've got one chanc..." I didn't let them finish, like a domino effect of explosive death my fire spell lept from open breach to open breach exploding the butt of each rifle in a hail of shrapnel and destruction.  Now I had been out of society for around a hundred years, but I hadn't forgotten my magic, if anything I'd worked on controlling it a lot better.  I didn't have to even show exertion to ignite the gunpowder on their rifles.  One moment they were standing ready to fire, the next they were screaming in agony.  I couldn't tell if they had all been mortally wounded but they were out of commission and I motioned my companion forward which he did with haste.

"Heretic!" The leader uttered reaching for a pistol, I held my sword to his throat and he lowered the pistol.

"One should take care angering the Fire God or her servants, petty thieves should know their place." I left him there, I didn't really worry too much about retribution, using the guise of the Fire God would be enough to scare them, the religion had grown vastly, and followers were known to be graced by her presence. And it wasn't like I appeared to be the normal spooky sorcerer type anyway.

"You are a follower of fire?" Tarnak almost seemed mystified at the prospect.

"Of course, why else would I be alone in the desert? I fear nothing of heat, her watchful gaze is always upon us." A total lie, I've never heard of the followers being not fearful of fire, as the Fire God's element is more of an example or her rage and not some kind of manifestation of her divinity.  Tarnak didn't know that, couldn't know that, he was a simple farmer, he'd never read the chronicles or in my guess even able to read at all.  And so it came that me and Tarnak arrived in Rolak (ak ak sounds are killing me here).  Sadly our troubles were just beginning, revolution was brewing and I accidentally lit the fuse.

Left My Heart in Dunlok

And most of my entire damn library! I managed to get out of undertown by feigning and illness that I claimed was spreading down there and that if they didn't get me out of there right then it would envelop all of Undertown.  I realize I probably hurt the people of Undertown with my ruse, but figured I also bought them some time from being harrased until the Ronerawth people figured out it was a lie (so months to a year give or take). I was actually surprised how easy I made it out of Dunlok, though unfortunately thanks to the Divider and the increased government presence I was a long way from getting out of Ronerawth in general.

What was working against me was not knowing how the government felt about me.  Had Rojove attempted to kill me in the sewers or had it been a simple accident? I couldn't be sure, so I had to avoid major roadways, or cities (Ronerawth didn't use magic to send messages like the Red Hand, but with telegraph wires and train mail systems there was enough communication between Dunlok and the rest of the empire). I didn't move very fast because of my ribs (walking short distances hurt) I was also without a solid supply of food (dak gave me some mushrooms and bread I tried not to think of where either came from). I didn't help that for the first bit I was basically walking through a desert hoping to not die from dehydration before being caught by Ronerawth military and executed for heresy (wouldn't put it past them).

Thankfully fate was kind and I ran across a traveling merchant who himself was avoiding the main roads for fear of taxes (I guess the military is known for stopping merchants and charging new road fees randomly). He had a couple pack animals and a horse.  When he saw me he thought I was one of the rare Ronerawth bandits (its hard to be a bandit in an oppressive military regime, because government hates competition).

"I want you to know I carry no money on me." Which makes no sense as a merchant, thats like saying you're a warrior but carry no weapon.

"Well then we have something in common!" I figured being jovial would be a good idea, meeting people in the wastes between roads is like a really awkward first date, with a lot less of a chance for a sexual encounter.  He was dressed in silks that covered his whole body, flowing wraps almost to the point he looked like a burn victim.

"You must be a strange bandit then." His accent was that northern dirt farmer poor type, usually considered folksy for suckers.

"I'm no bandit, just a sell sword recovering from a recent struggle.  Tell you what I'll offer you my services, if you take me to the nearest town that is not Dunlok." It was a good trade, and the merchant agreed surpingly (I would come to find out he was a poor shot with the pistol he held in his wraps and my offer was one of major relief). His name was Tarnak, and this was his first merchant trip out from the coast ever.  He too was hoping to avoid Dunlok as the traders there tended to screw over the naieve.  He also had gotten lost (which is why despite trying to avoid Dunlok he was heading right for it), so on top of my fantastic sell sword services he needed my navigation as well.  Turning us around I had us heading for Rolak instead.  Now it had been years since I'd been there and I figured a lot of things had changed, but one thing probably remained constant, there was money to be made there! And hopefull Tarnak and his new partner would be making it! Yes I already considered myself his partner without really seeing what it is we were supposed to be selling.  I realize once again mistakes were bound to be made.

Conversations with the Large

"You're some kind of wizard right?" Wizard, a term as insulting as spell flinger, magic chucker, or sparkle fingers.  A lowly common man's word for invoking raw power into affecting the material world. The Mayor was sitting across from me, his chair was a lavish rich wood one, mine was a simple stool probably a foot stool.

"I wouldn't say that, as I told you before I'm just a traveler, magic is just a word." Speak in riddles to fool the idiots.

"Don't bullshit me, I have friends up above, I asked around about you, a Colonel Rojove would be mighty interested you are in fact alive and not eaten like he had previously heard." I figured he might have outside of Undertown connections, this just confirmed it.  Now I had to wonder if he was installed as dictator, or happened to luck into it and the Ronerawth government kept him there so they could have their boot on the necks of Undertown without it being obvious.

"What do you want Mr. Mayor?" I had to cut through the bullshit, the stool was hurting me.

"I want you gone, I don't need you in my town. I'll show you the way, I'm sure you can talk your way past the guards and sneak out of the city, and if you can't I don't care, you either do that or I'll have the Colonel down here."

"And for this I'll be given what?"

"You're life and potential freedom, look you're trouble, you'll rile up the masses and I don't want that, no one here wants that, we have a good thing and without you it will only get better, so get lost." He stood up and directed me to do as much. I couldn't argue with the reasoning, and my past adventures showed of course that I'm bad for everyone, hell I myself came to the same conclusion when I withdrew from the world. I made my way out and back to Dak's place, I wished him well and he did the same for me.  Undertown was not my kind of place, it wasn't a place for a depraved person like myself, and I knew that.  Even with the Mayor's boot on the neck of the town, it would be better than anything I could inflict.

So with my ribs still hurting, but my wrists free I made my way out of Undertown and back to Dunlok proper, hoping that my word slinging could avoid my spell slinging.

On Mayors and Dates

Undertown had its own music outside of any real city I've been in.  Extreme poverty tends to change the nature of how people act.  I'd seen more helping each other out and sharing here than I have anywhere else.  It was a tight knit community, outside of the Mayors dictatorship they had their own justice.  I saw one thief steal someones mushrooms and other community members swarmed on the thief and returned the mushrooms, and then the wronged party shared with the thief! It was amazing every community should be poor! (ok not really, but come on!)

Dak proved an amicable companion.  He had apparently been tossed from being a blacksmith up above because of his love for a shorty (got to love rigid social classes), he had kept her secret up until her death and then felt he could be open about it with people he knew, he was wrong, when they saw his daughter authorities were called, allegations were alleged reputations ruined. He seemed happy enough once I got rid of the stench. Most of his work was fixing up peoples pots, and cooking utensils. The rare person with a weapon who needed mending from whatever they had done to it would also come.  They paid mostly in food or small metal trinkets that could be melted down. Dak would take the metal and make more pots, eating utensils, and the occaisional weapon for someone who hunted or kept the town safe (there was no official authority, but some of the more well known wielders of weapons were looked to for their expertise).

Ronerawth had no official presence in the city despite the structurally important parts the city surrounded. They would occaisionally come in force and make sure there weren't "traitors" hiding amongst the downtrodden.  I saw them apprehend a man and execute him in one of these sweeps.  I was told this was not an uncommon occurence.

I was only in Undertown a week when the Mayor came calling for me personally.  And by came calling I mean I was awoken in the middle of the night drug to his house and plopped in front of him while he was eating some form of fowl his shorty wife looking on from behind his measurable girth.

"So I think we need to talk." And that's where I'll leave you.  I told you I'd tell you about the date, not exactly go over the details.  My journal, my rules! At some point I'll probably have to deal with my personalization of this journal...

Not Exactly Management Material

"Wait you're telling me you fought off a giant spider and her brood with ghosts you ignited? I just dont' believe that." The smith who's name Dak had finished one of my shackles and was almost done with the other, I figured he was going to smash them open or something, but instead he had a set of small metal tools he was working the locks with, it was difficult and time consuming, though I was happy for how it was also not dangerous to my hands.

"That's the most unbelieveable part?"

"Yep, just can't buy that, you being a necromancer who's lived a long time, makes sense seen all kinds of things, but fire ghosts taking on spiders? Nope that will just not fly with me." Kachunk the shackle released and I felt the power return (damn anti magical garbage, all it takes is one completed shackle to lock your abilities, its so they can chain two magical people together and screw them both).

"You are a scholar sir." I felt better, I still smelt like crap and my ribs hurt all over, just breathing caused me pain, but I could use magic again, and like seeing an old friend it was welcome.

"Can I keep the shackles? This is the real deal and not the cheap shit they sell nobles afraid of boogeymen." He was holding the shackle up appraising it gingerly.

"Sure might as well give you something for your trouble, though be careful those were military."

"And they'll be melted before anyone comes looking for them, the metals good though, should be able to sell it for something." He tossed the shackles into an empty cauldron, they clanged rather loudly.

"So how did you..." I was interrupted mid question by a looming shadow approaching the entrance.  The shadow belonged to a guy that looked like he hadn't missed a meal, ever.  Under his considerable gut was a rather large looking pistol, his clothing was stretched to the brim to hold him in but looked rather clean.  Clean shaven with long blonde hair, I couldn't see his eyes because of some weird goggles.  I didn't see an entourage, but again his size obscured the entrace well enough.

"Dak, who's your friend?" His voice was high, kind of squeaky even.

"Trezlan Lorentino Mayor, a new resident how just came to town." Dak responded almost with reverence of the larger man.

"Smells like shit, you Lorentino what are you doing in my town?" He sniffed the air like my very presence offended him.

"I'm a traveler just passing through, stopped in to Dak's here to see if he had some trinkets to sell." It was as good an excuse as any, and I figured it would be better to keep my true nature obscured, especially since I didn't know if the Ronerawth military was actively looking for me.

"And the shit smell?"

"An unfortunate accident upon my arrival in your lovely town." He gave me a sour look, but seemed satisfied.

"If he gives you any money Dak remember our arrangement, Lorentino I got my eye on you, if you cause trouble I'll have the Ronerawth military down here so fast you'll think the fire god herself has struck you down." With that he trundled off, I could see as he was leaving a meek looking shorty woman following after, she looked at Dak with the desperate eyes of someone begging for forgiveness.

"Who's that tub of crap?" I waited before he would be out of earshot and kept my voice low, never know who might be listening.

"Mayor of Undertown."

"Mayor? How progressive so you guys vote?"

"Nope, that's just what he calls himself, anyone who disagrees sees the business end of that pistol he was carrying."

"And the girl?"

"My daughter Jayna, his wife." The thought sent shudders down my spine, not that Dak would have a shorty daughter, that she would be that mans wife.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Best I could do really, lifes tough down here and after her mother died it was just me and her, when I got tossed from my shop up above things got worse, better to be fed and screwed, then just plain screwed."

"Sorry all the same, you wouldn't happen to have a room for rent or anything would you?"

"Nope, but I do have a room for share and you seem decent, aside from of course being a necromancer who tends to overexagerate, all I ask is one thing."

"And that is?"

"Clean your self off, you reek like day old ass." And so I had a place to stay after I found a place to wash off, which turned out to be in the form of a natural spring that wasn't too corrupted from the stink of Undertown. And so my first full day in Undertown came to a close, I left my clothes hanging near the old man's forge much to his look of anger at doing so and found a dirty old cot where I could sleep in the back.  Sleep was nice, if only a little painful with each movement.  Damn ribs. Tommorrow I shall tell you of my date with the mayor! And yes he is as dreamy as I thought.

This is Undertown

Given a long enough timeline even the poor establish order. The ditchers that I had become aware of a hundred years previous had established their own structure in what was politely known as "Undertown". Subsistence living is a lot like farming, except your "crops" are the leftovers polite society tosses away and your "harvest" (lots of "quotes" today, if you catch my "drift") is when a bunch of scraps and crap thats useable gets dropped close by.  There is also actual farming of disgusting mushrooms and other vegetables that actually grow in crap (like actual crap not just a way of saying junk), also vermin tend to be culled for meat (and sometimes sold up above under a different name and fanciful description which is hilarious).

My arrival from a storm drain smelling like shit was actually how a lot of similar adorned people end up in Undertown (though not from escaping some god creature of the sewers).  Life was rough in Dunlok and you were just a couple bad decisions away from being tossed to live with the poor (for some a fate worse than death itself). My ribs were hurting, I could tell they were probably broken, I smelled like shit and I was still shackled (another common feature of new arrivals to Undertown, as it was a haven of convicts). I wasn't exactly having a good "day".

"A new arrival to the good life!" A shorty called me out to the assorted fisherman. I shuddered to think what kind of fish they pulled out of the water considering where it came from. I was clutching my ribs and my shackled jangled a little to loudly for my liking.

"Shut up Tillory you'll scare the fish." Tillory gave a sidewise glance to the angry fisherman and ran up to me.

"So you running from someone private or government?" Oh yeah run away slaves, another standard occupant of Undertown, sometime in the hundred years since my last visit Slavery was introduced with a vengeance back to Ronerawth.

"Neither I actually fell down into the sewers on accident."

"Sure right buddy thats what everyone says, this is all a big mistake and any second now your servants will descend and rescue you from the clutches of poverty." His clothes were far too big for his body, and fancy, well they were fancy before grime, and living life shorty ruined them.  He almost looked like a tiny butler, come tho show me the wonders of the world.

"Yes exactly like that, do you guys happen to have someplace..."

"To cut the shackles you stumbled your way into in the dark?"

"Exactly."

""Right this way good sir." Tillory was fairly polite and made little observations about the people we passed, the shanty area I arrived in was considered the "docks" of Undertown, despite no one down there actually owning a boat, or there being an actual dock.  The shanties and homes had been constructed of cast offs from the previous mine structure and when the palace had been renovated (apparently emperor's tend to just take over and literally toss the previous belongings from the palace down below, when the most recent one had taken over his cascade of items killed over fifity people). This mixture of rich items next to broken mining wood made for an interesting mix.  Tillory eventually lead me to undercity proper which was right next to the stone pillar that upheld the palace, I could see that some of the shanties here resembeled actual buildings, including one that housed the "Mayor" of undertown.  I'll go more into him later, possibly tomorrow. Tillory left me at a building with a crude anvil sketched outside of it and a man who looked as old as I had a few days earlier standing beside a forge weilding a hammer almost the size of him. He was mostly naked just ratty underware covering what was left of his genitals.  His frame looked like one lean muscle probably from years of working a forge.

"Another runaway slave? He smells awful." Surpringly the old man didn't have much of an old man voice, it was more quiet and almost melodic.

"Born in shit, but he's got some pretty shackles." Tillory bowed and stepped away to go do whatever the little man did when he wasn't escorting people around.  I was surprised he didn't ask for money, but figured  he looked at me and realized you can't get blood from a stone.

"Sit down son, this will take a moment, why don't you tell me the story of how you got to Undertown, I could use a good laugh." I sat at a little stool and he peered over the wrist manacles currently locked on me.

"It's funny what you remember from your youth..." And on into the night I spun my tale...

God's a Dick

I struggled against the tentacle squeezing me, it crushed my ribs against the insides of my body. The bones cracked audibly I could sense outside of necromantic magic I would be spending time in utter agony for some time (and in the predicament I was in, "sometime" might be like five minutes). The creature didn't even bother to speak anymore than its initial insult calling me an insect.  Which was just impolite.

"Can't we talk about this?" It took me a moment to speak as the wind was being crushed out of my lungs, and my lungs themselves smushed.

"Talk insect? With you? Why? You are but a bit of nutrition for me, sent by those above to the real god in this world." The words didn't have a vocal sound to them but they reverberated in my mind like a he was shouting inside my head.  Its hard to explain, but when he talked it was like getting hit in the head.

"I could be your disciple preach your word to the masses!" Never been one for religion, but given the option of being crushed to death and eaten or singing the monsters praises, well sign me up!

"You already serve Death, the taint is upon your body like so much filth, destroying you furthers my goals." This was the first time I heard of serving death.  I thought it strange how this creature acted like it was personified, most of my previous experience saw death as just a process (that can be avoided *cough*).  I didn't have a lot of time to consider the implication, again being slowly crushed to death.

I'll admit I was in a bit of a panic, I tried to see what I could do and the options looked terrible; my sword the only actual weapon I had available was still in its scabbard next to my hand but my arms were trapped.  I found I could reach the hilt of the blade, but the best my blow could do was tap the creature.  Figuring it was better to die doing something to try and break free then just be crushed to death, fingered the handle and did the girliest tap a sword in a scabbard had ever done.  Surpingly the tentacle let go immediately.  I splashed into the water and made for the tunnel I was in when I got snatched.  The voice in my head reverberated in shrieks.  I couldn't make out much other than painful head throbbing, but I did distinctly hear "The earth god shall pay for this." I made note to ask Valrym if he had pissed off some weird tentacle beast sometime and ran as hard as my busted body could carry me.

You'd think I'd learn from my previous experience that running blindly in tunnels is a bad idea. The tunnel and light I was running to lead off a cliff, and in my hurry I didn't notice that at all. You don't know it, but I'm the worlds first professional cliff diver, thank god there was water beneath me or I'd have been the worlds first and last. When I drug myself to shore I found I was in the moat underworld beneath the palace, I was completely confused as to how I'd managed to wind up there.  And there is where my next journey begins!

In the Lands of Contempt

As I decended the tunnel from the island of bone I found that most of the tunnel walls were also made of bleached bone, my sewer soaked clothing dripped on the bleached remains of those who had tread the paths before. I have to admit I was more than a little terrified as the sanctity of the light and foul smelling water fell away behind me, and I crunched my way into a lower light chamber of bone horror (because you know its not something you normally do everyday or maybe you do, maybe you are some kind of bone horror tomb explorerer, if so screw you mr. bone explorerer man!). The light grew less and less the further in I went though the tunnel was the same size regardless (I noticed it appeared excavated prior to the bones being added to it, so whatever had dug it out was fairly large). I could see I was coming up another chamber, and this one appeared larger than the one I arrived in. I had subconciously drawn my sword, I guess I figured if I was going out, I was going out swinging.

The other chamber didn't have a light source above it and so I had to rely on sight from the light coming from behind me.  The tunnel ended in a pool of water that did not appear to be from the sewer, I couldn't make out the complexion of it exactly, but it appeared to be blood.  The chamber wasn't as high as the one I exited earlier, but appeared to again have been excavated by whatever had dug out the stuff from the cave of bone.  I didn't want to jump in the water, even if it didn't smell like where I'd been earlier something told me it was a bad idea.  On the opposite side of where I came from I could see another tunnel and what appeared to be more light coming from it. The only way across appeared to be a swim, and despite reeking like a sewer the inky blackness in front of me was terrifying beyond words. Whatever had carved out the chamber obviously had intended on doing so, and the water down below could have been waste deep or go straight to the depths of some long forgotten hell.

With one forlorn look to the tunnel I came from, I sheathed my sword, and slid myself into the muck. There was a top layer accumulated on my and skin as I swam.  It felt like ages before I made the other side, I climbed up out of the muck and looked hopefully to the light in front of me. And then a tentacle wrapped around my midsection and lifted me up in the air, I heard water rising up from behind and a gigantic eye with fangs spoke to me without saying anything.

"Insect you step foot in a lair of a creature you can't comprehend."

And that's where I'll leave you, hanging in the air, facing a creature beyond comprehension.  Or as I like to call it, monday.

The Depths of Smell

Being lost underground is kind of my thing I guess.  Being lost under a city while it literally rains shit down upon me? That was something new (and thankfully it hasn't been repeated ever, and hopefully WILL NEVER BE REPEATED WORLD!). Sliding around underground trying to avoid running into another tusked beasty from some freshly created new horrible place, feeling dirty and despite being in "water" not being able to be clean, worrying about where I'm going or moving towards. These were my reality.

I know what you're thinking, why didn't I cut my shackles? I tried! Well as much as I was willing to risk in the darkness, I couldn't get a satisfactory sword strike to break the chain, and I worried even if I did, the magic disabling ability would be more about the shackle on each wrist then the chain connecting them so all I would really do is increase some movement.  Which would have been nice, but it wasn't my primary problem, that being lost in the dark.

Obviously my sense of direction screwed me as I did not find the soldier I had been sent down there with.  In fact it felt like instead of going up, I was going down, not a good feeling. Even worse was when I stepped where I thought something would be and found nothing (damn hearing not catching on to the fact that the tunnel I was in dissappeared). Because I hadn't exactly been stepping lightly I fell down into the darkness and sewer water.  I can't tell you how long it was, but it felt like way too long. Eventually I hit water hard (you would think water is soft, you'd be horribly wrong), I sank in the depths of the sewage and fought hard against my desire to scream so as to not take more into my body than I already accidentally had.  Thrashing to the service I found that I was now in some kind of current being drug deeper into the water of the sewer.

The water got faster, and I lost track of how many twists and turns I'd had splashed my way down.  Eventually I slammed hard against what felt like an island. I clutched on to it and made my way out of the slime.  There was actually light here and I could see around, I was in some sort of chamber, high above me was natural light provided by a crack or something (so it was at least day time). With my vision not cloaked in darkness I could see the tube I came from, and that the "island" I had found myself on was made of some kind of bones, probably the previous idiots who got lost in the muck I now found myself in.  In front of the island was a dimly lit cave, from inside I could hear a rumbly growl.

"Shit." I said to the darkness, clearly the only way out was through something a lot worse than where I'd been.  Which was a nice metaphor for my life.

The Horror In The Sewer

*Splash* I felt the water (and that was being polite calling what I stepped in water) sloshing up next to my boots. The smell was incredibly awful, the lighting was poor, and the skittish trooper I'd been assigned was waving his rifle around so much I was worried he'd accidentally shoot me. I was still shackled, though they had allowed me my sword, but the troope was told to shoot me should I attempt to hack my way free (I guess killing him and then hacking my way free was just not supposed to occur to me). Outside of the sword my only other defense was an oil lantern, I guess to scare something with the power of light.

Me and the skittish soldier were in the underbelly of the city.  The sewers/catacombs/stinky lair of awful.  We were down here to search out reports of Rebels still in the city. Rojove thought if I was down here I might remember a place the ambassador had visited and we'd flush out some rebels, though with keeping me shackled and the choice of my escort I figured he did not actually think there was much to find.  Still I wanted to show I was trustworthy and potentially get the ability to leave Dunlok while I was still breathing, so I accepted the offer, and into the sewers we went. It had been a couple hours, the heat was starting to rise up and with it the smell.  I hadn't so much as seen anything recognizeable, but being perfectly honest I wasn't looking too hard either.

"You see anything?" The soldier whispered to me, I could hear the wavering fear in his voice.

"I see a lot of shit everywhere, and dirty walls." I shouted, startling him even more, ok ok so I do take a little joy in picking on people.

"Quiet there are things down here, scary things." His whispers took on the mysticism of the perrinially stupid.  That kind of folksy awe that dumb people get when they talk about things they don't understand.

"I'm pretty sure the only thing down here is waste water, filth, and things that eat filth. And since we are not filth, congratulations they won't eat us." My scientic analysis of the situation didn't seem to make the soldier any less jumpy. We continued on down long forgotten tunnels probably dug way before the plumbing that now flooded them with filth were even considered. I was about to ask the soldier (he had a name I don't care to remember it) when we'd actually be done "looking" over the sewers when something emerged from beneath some water in front of us. I want to say it looked like some kind of pack animal about the size of a small horse, but it had scaley skin, one eye, and huge tusks.  So unless you were a crazy person you'd never load anything on this beast. It had been laying in the filth of the water, but the mouth with teeth didn't speak carrion eater to me (so slight addendum to my theory earlier, filth, things that eat the filth, and things that eat the things that eat the filth).

"SHOOT IT!!!!" The idiot had almost shot me many times and now of course he panics and runs off.  The rifle splashed in the water as he fled.  Against my better judgement I put my hands in the float shit and withdrew the rifle, I wasn't exactly versed with shooting things, but given my options were either shoot it or try and stab it, I went with the safer option. Safer of course being relative to the situation.  I aimed the barrel at my enemy and pulled the trigger *click*.  The beast stared back at me not really sure of what to do, I paniced trying to mess with everything on the back of the rifle.  I pulled the slide which loaded a new round in and dropped the previous un fired one into the muck, thinking maybe that was my problem I tried to fire again, *click*.

I'll admit at this point I was more than a little paniced. The creature I think caught on that the thing in my hands could prove lethal to it, it reared up its head, snorted and charged.  I dropped the useless rifle and dove for the wall of sewer, dodging the creature, but landing in the filth (a fate worse than impalement). The good news was the creature seemed to have knocked itself out (take that not planning your move out) the bad news was I doused my lantern and now was in a tunnel of filth in the damn dark.  Made worse by not exactly knowing where I was at all. I did know I didn't want to be around when the tusked monster awoke so I made off in the direction I thought I came from, hoping to run across the brave soldier who abandoned me in the sewer.

In retrospect hanging from a chain buck naked, actually better than being lost in the sewers in the dark.

Hang Time

There are few things in life quite like dealing with necromantic withdrawals (taking life is a bit of a drug, just it hurts when you're doing it, you get weird mental imagery, and then you feel all used up afterward, so its the worst drug ever), its even better when you have to do it hanging from a wall stark ass naked.  And by better of course I mean worse. I felt better and younger which was a nice comfort from the extreme discomfort of hanging FROM A FEAKING WALL! They had shackled my wrists from behind and hung the chain on a hook, so my arms were sore, my back hurt, and I couldn't sleep at all. Not that I could sleep having to sort out the crazy memories of the ambassador. The good news for the emperor was he was the highest person in his organization as best as I could tell, when they had captured him it appeared like they had also gotten most of his entire group, I had no idea why he didn't just tell them that.  Unfortunately memories aren't exactly like feelings, so his motivations for the end of his life were a mystery to me.

One thing was clear though, the current emperor got their by bloody coup and it had upset a lot of people.  I also knew that Rojove was his right hand man in the coup (which lead me to wonder why Rojove was just a Colonel? I guess he liked the sound of it). The old emperor wasn't much better, but having his entire family poisoned at a royal dinner was a bit flare for the dramatic. It didn't really help me though since again chained to a wall.  Also from my limited attempts at it, the chains were antimagic, which made sense, I mean they knew I was a necromancer, it makes no sense to leave me my abilities. Hours passed in my cell, the flickering oil lamp light swinging overhead was my only friend, at some point I began singing, eventually I was joined by Rojove, I could see the door beyond my cell was pretty much like the one I'd seen yesterday just a desk and a chair.

"You sing terrible."

"What can I say I'm out of practice." I was out of practice, but its not like I always wanted to be a bard or something.

"Ahh yes your mouth, Malcyr's reports did mention you had a tendency to run on, so I'll be brief, did you discover more traitors in your interrogation?" Malcyr's reports? I didn't even think about that, obviously he was filing them, and that would explain why they didn't ask Morley, I felt all dumb for thinking he was involved when I had previously associated with a member of Ronerawth's own military.

"He was the leader, from what I saw when you captured him you killed most of his group, though without context of the people other than spotty memories I really couldn't tell you who they might have been, but he appeared to be the leader."

"We thought as much, but its nice to have confirmation." He went to leave, I was a bit perplexed, I mean I assumed they'd screw me over, I just didn't realize it would be right away like this.

"Just going to leave me hanging around like this?" My voice sounded more desperate than I intended.

"I considered it, but you could prove useful in rooting out the rest of the traitors." He went through the smaller room and banged on the door to the outside, a couple uniformed soldiers came with him and lifted me off my chain prison.

"Leaving on the shackles where's the trust?"

The colonel laughed and his men escorted me out of my makeshift prison and into the smoke filled world beyond.  I was brought back to my room from before but remained shackled, so now instead of living quarters it had become a new padded prison.  I couldn't say it was unexpected, the soldier remaining in the room to watch over me was a bit more offputting, as were my missing sword and any items I would have used to break the shackles.  At least I wasn't hanging though, small favors in the face of huge pains in my ass.

Just Like Murdering a Man

You never really forget necromancy or magic.  When you do the motions, when you tap the power its there all over again. I couldn't forget being a necromancer if I tried (well outside of stabbing myself in the head and hoping I died).  Not that I really would want to, when it comes down to it I'm not really a fan of dying, in fact I wish to avoid that forever, because I've done bad things and while I'm ambivelent to the idea that the gods care enough what we do here to punish us all over again in the afterlife, I don't exactly want to stake my life on that idea.

After I was left to myself to find some new clothes (the nerve of someone naked disapproving of my robe) I found a small down on his luck vendor who was willing to part with a lot of different styles for a small amount of coin (you normally find these types by the number of hasitly hand painted signs advertising quality or ability to negotiate). I bought a lot of clothing that was larger than my current frame since I was about to be "eating" well soon enough.  I had to wonder what kind of damage I did to myself by not maintining my physicality, would I be forever stuck in the body of an old man? It was an interesting question. I would have asked Morley, but I hadn't seen him in a long time, and I was still kind of worried he was around somewhere. I'm frankly always worried Morley is around.

So I got some clothes, fed myself, and got a good nights rest.  When I awoke guards were waiting outside the door to my place ready to escort me to their prisoner. We didn't go to the palace, instead we headed into the industrial part of town, the smoke choked my breathing and the noise was almost too much to even focus on walking.  I followed the guards as we left the main streets and headed down back alleys, eventually making our way to a heavy iron door with a single man in plain clothes standing outside of it.  They nodded at the man and he opened the door.  Inside Colonel Rojove waited next to another door, the room had only a desk, a chair, and the door.  Rojove wasn't seated, his uniform was as I saw it previously, the pistol looked shinier though that could have been a side effect of coming from the smog. My guards stayed outside with the plain clothes man and the door shut behind me, Rojove opened the next door and it was a smaller room with a table and a man chained to it.  His body had visible signs of markings and wounds.  Previous information techniques.

"No supplies for the ritual?" Rojove's tone was a bit too interested for my tastes, despite being a necromancer, I'm not really inclined to show my secrets, mostly because of what I did to my own instructor.

"I'm over a hundred years old Colonel the only ritual I use is in my head." I didn't also mention that I had the experience of someone way older than myself and thats actually where I got most of my knowledge, but what they don't know doesn't hurt them, well unless I'm killing them, then it hurts a lot.

At the sound of our voices the prisoner turned to look, his dried lips showed he hadn't had a drink of water in a while, still didn't stop him from spitting on Rojove, "And so the traitor returns Rojove do you feel anything for the murders you've committed?"

Rojove wiped the spit from his face and indicated me, "This man is here to get the information we could not, it's a shame it will kill you Ambasador I would have loved to have you executed like your family publically." The other mans defiance left immediately at that last part.

"Another torturer? He can try, I'm not talking." I withdrew a small blade from beneath my robes and drew a slice along my palm, I didn't even feel the cut, it had been a long time since I practiced, but as I said you never really forget.  Rojove watched on as I scrolled sigils with quick work, I used sigils and ritual because I was a bit out of practice. I also didn't want the man to suffer, I knew nothing of him as a person, and this was strictly business. I willed power into the sigils and he screamed (ok so when I say don't want him to suffer, I didn't mean he wouldn't feel pain).

The power infusion was painful for me, I know I screamed as well, it had been a long time and my body needed to heal. Everything hurt all at once, muscles felt like they were ripping, blood felt on fire, the whole bit (I've since found out that the longer you go the more painful it is to 'ressurect' yourself as it were as a necromancer). I was also trying to make sense of the flood of memories, I didn't even notice that I had been personally shackled in the mean time (because the prisoner had also been shackled).  I only noticed when I was lead from the room by my guards and hooked up in a similar room, no table just me hanging from my shackles.  My clothes were taken as well as the small knife I'd used to perform the necromancy, so there I was hanging from a wall stark naked and my body felt like it was exploding.  Fun times, I love Ronerawth so much.

Naked Lunch

Rojove dropped me off at the palace, he told me they would take my stuff and have it arranged for me (that kind of sounded like a threat).  Dunlok had changed since my last time there.  A lot of industry was in the capitol, smoke stacks billowed and dirty faced workers scurried from building to building.  Once we got near the palace that lessened and I saw the rich in increasingly bizare and outlandish outfits (had to admit kind of jealous). The palace itself had been redone in a metal I couldn't place, it sheened with a blue that looked like paint, but could have just been the natural hue of the metal.

Previously I'd never been inside the structure so I can't really comment on design changes.  There were guards everywhere though, as I was lead deeper in they had their rifles at the ready (I guess despite being invited they had no idea what I would do, as if being old wasn't indication enough). I was escorted quickly from the entrance through a bunch of cavernous hallways all jeweled and shiny with expensive metals (blue was a prevailing theme, with curtains and stylistic choices).  Eventually I was brought to the throne room, huge doors were opened by unseen machinery and there sat the emperor on a large lavish throne completely naked.  Not the the throne the emperor.  As soon as I entered the doors shut behind me and it was just me and the naked man, apparently security was lax inside the throne room, or the emperor was so full of himself he figured I could not hurt him.

He was an older man based on the body wrinkles, partially overweight, mostly hairless, pale from lack of sun (the throne room had no natural light, instead lanterns lined the walls giving it almost an eery look). He had also lost most of the hair on top of his head, but still had a considerable length of hair that dropped to around his ass.  I'd comment on his genitals, but some horrors are best left to the imagination. The only thing denoting his rank of emperor was a crown.  As soon as I had entered he came down from the throne and rushed to meet me.

"Trezlan Lorentino the man himself!" He embraced me like we were old friends, despite being fairly thin he had a crushing grip, I felt my old bones wince from the effort.

"Emperor." I choked out, I almost thought for a moment he intended on crushing me to death. He released his grip and appraised me as if actually noticing me for the first time.

"You look old, really old, I was told you had withdrawn from people, I didn't realize it meant you were letting yourself die." Told, only one person I could think of, which made me question why I was here if he'd already been in contact with Morley.

"Living for as long as I have, you grow tired of it." It was the truth.

"Nonesense, either way, I didn't call you hear to insult your age.  I need your assistance, it would appear I have a coup underway, ordinarily I would just have them all shot publicaly and be done with it, but unfortunately this latest round involved one of my top advisors and I now worry how deep it goes."

"And you want me to interogate him?"

"Oh no, no I've done that for weeks and he hasn't broke, I need you to rip the information from him. I was informed thats within your power." Again I was a bit perplexed, if he knew Morley, why would he not just ask him instead of me.

"And if I do this for you?"

"You'll be paid of course, though I'll need you after you've aquired the information from my former aide, have to make sure we get all those traitors." He had moved away from me now and started a sort of pacing.

"Should I refuse?"

"You'll be executed for practicing necromancy."

"Great sign me up then." It wasn't like I had a choice, and the emperor didn't seem like the kind of person to be joking about the execution (and honestly I also was a little leery of "and what about when I've done what you've asked" but you don't ask the what if game after they've mentioned execution, you just plan on escaping from the start).  I was told I'd have a day to prepare my ritual (which was entirely uneccesary despite being out of practice I wasn't that out of practice). I wasn't staying at that palace, they had set up a room in the moderately rich section of the city that was between the dirty industry parts and where the rich lived.  It wasn't an inn in the normal sense as I was the only occupant and there were no servants to cater to me, but they did point me to where food can be found and gave me an allowance to eat and get some better clothes (apparently the emperor had been quoted that my rags offended him).

Above all else I still had one thought beating a trumpet in the back of my mind, where the hell was Morley, and how was he involved with all of this? What can I say, I've got a one track mind with regards to him.

Justice with A Bang

It was a night and day transition from Red Hand territory to Ronerawth. For one the paths were more pronounced with oil lamps on posts marking the way to different places.  Sign posts were also more well kept and also included distance markers on them (so someone had to measure that, I'm sure it was really fun). We also passed by more traffic going each direction, though that could have also been we were in more civilized lands, where as my cave was in the middle of nowhere on purpose and most trade between the Red Hand and Ronerawth had stopped a while ago (amazingly Magic users weren't super thrilled with Ronerawths evolution of firearms). Most people seemed to bow their head or show some kind of respect for Colonel Rojove. I didn't know who this guy was, but apparently other people certainly did.

"Rojove!" Came the shout, the man was mounted and had his own revolver, though it was not the shiny metal one that Rojove carried.  He also looked like life had passed him by, his face was all mangled scars and age wrinkles. His clothing was equally as rundown, a white shirt that looked thread bare, some jean time pants that showed more holes than fabric.  Even his horse had seen better days.

"Coriani I told you to let this go, we aren't going over this again, move aside." I noticed Rojove's right hand had drifted to his pistol, the hammer drawn back (Pistols of that era were single action, meaning for each trigger pull you had to cock the hammer at the rear of the gun, I've seen some double action pistols, but they are definately a rarity even now).

"My family is dead Rojove, you murdered them, and now I demand you finish this." Coriani hopped off his horse and his hand was also on his gun.  Rojove followed him down, but as soon as his feet hit the ground I heard the shot and saw Coriani's face dissappear.  Rojove's pistol had a small bit of smoke wafting from the barrel before he reholstered it.

"Is this Ronerawth justice?" I meant to sound more condescending, but my old man voice just probably sounded like I actually asked the question.

"Ordinarily we would have had a real duel, pistol duels have become quite the favorite of people to settle disputes, but Coriani was a bandit beggar who's family had been dealt with for being traitors, he's lucky I even humored him by getting off my horse. Rojove indicated we would be moving on and so we did. I could see Coriani's former horse looking bewildered at its dead owner as we continued traveling towards a smokestacks in the distance.  I wondered for a moment if someone would clean up the body, before figuring obviously someone would, always value to someone.  I did note how fast Rojove was, and also noted he took care of traitors, perhaps all those acknowledgements earlier were not out of particular reverence but fear.  I had to keep reminding myself I knew little of Ronerawth since the Divider had been completed, and I wasn't exactly a scholor prior to that.

We would reach Dunlok a few days later, and thats where the real adventure would begin.

Riding with the Colonel

We made bad time, a loaded pack animal, and an old man kind of slowed us down (I'll admit I was looking kind of frail, and I had to get off and urinate frequently).  The colonel really didn't seem to bothered by what was going on.  He rode out in front, I was behind, his soldiers behind me and the pack animal pulled up the rear.

"Aren't you a bit young for a Colonel?" I knew a little about a little about military ranks in Ronerawth, still Colonel Rojove looked younger than even I would assume the rank would denote.

"How old do you think I am?" He had gotten some form of cigarette in his mouth, the smoke was fouler than most I'd smelled previously.  Obviously outside of being a slow moving target, he didn't care about letting everyone know we were coming.

"Mid twenties?"

"Try double that, now I'm not over a hundred years old like you are, but I also don't look bad like you do." I could tell he was smiling from where I was even if I couldn't see his face.

"How? You aren't some necromancer are you?" It was a valid question.

"No, you haven't been in Ronerawth in a while Lorentino, or well we don't have record of you coming or going, but magic has taken less and less of a role in our society, no this is just the result of all my clean living." He laughed a little bit at the end, I took it there was something else going on with Rojove, but figured I wouldn't exactly get details on it. We rode south, making camp occaisionally until we reached the The Divider.  I hadn't seen it since construction had completed.

The Divider was huge; well over a hundred feet tall from top to bottom.  At the top I could see cannons and patroling soldiers with Rifles.  The door we approached was not the main entrance, and looked barely large enough for mounted people to pass through (I was told that there was a bigger entrance for trade convoys, and I've seen that one, its gigantic. The doors work on some weird pully system that has to be opened by two massive steam engines, prior to the invention of those engines I have no idea how they intended on that door ever opening).  I didn't hear a challenge, and Colonel made no move to unlock the door, it just opened and we passed through, either we were expected or they spotted it from far enough out they knew who he was.

And so it was I was returned to Ronerawth.  It had been a while since I was last there, things had changed, some for the worse, a lot for the better.  I was mildly terrified, then again I was an old necromancer invited to assist an emperor who openly did not like magic, so I think I had good reason to be terrified!

Welcome Back to The World

I had a long grey beard down to my feet, wrinkles had set in on my face, and despite being naturally brown my skin was about as light as it would go, like a dying tree trunk.  I also had long fingernails from not clipping them and the robe I wore barely hung off my frame.  I'd been letting myself die for the past hundred years and it was taking a long time to actually hit the mark. I lived in a cave of my own choosing, not one of Valyra's (its former tenant had been a family of lizards, they made kind of good eating).  I had the majority of Valyra's library with me, they lined the walls of the cave on haphazardly constructed shelves (its not like I could have carpenters make shelves for my cave dwelling), I had a bed of straw, a table that leaned to the right where I did my writing, and a chair to sit at (prior to my journal writing I had taken upon myself to write theories of trade route developments, they weren't very good theories and I burned them all). I also had made a poorly constructed door and covered it with brush to obscure the entrance.

I'd been living in the cave for the past three years and outside of going out for food had not really visited civilization with any kind of regularity (such is the nature of wanting to die).  I didn't even wear my sword anymore, it laid next to the bed, its unnatural blueish blade providing an extra light source aside from my one oil lamp. I was going over one of my trade theories when I heard a knock at the door, I'd expected this.  I figured it was Morley, finally come to take my soul and all my ill gotten knowledge.  Earlier I might have fought, but instead I just walked to the door and opened it.

It wasn't Morley waiting for me, instead it was a pale skinned man dressed in a mix of light leather and silk (the leather was brown, the silk blue, he looked a little strange). He had a gun belt hung low on his waist, an eight shot revolver was at hand level and his right hand was near the butt of the pistol (a common behavior when facing off against magic users, especially for Ronerawth). I could see the stamped R in gold filigree which not only told me it was a Ronerawth pistol, but it was military issue (they normally stamped their regular guns, but not in gold filigree).  He didn't wear a rifle, but behind him I could see a small squad of soldiers and they all had rifles.  More proof he was military, his escort were all wearing silk uniform in the Royal Blue Ronerawth had adopted with their most recent emperor.  I do have to commend Ronerawth, their silk uniforms always looked sharp, even if they provided little protection (not like there was much protection from magic or bullets anyway, metal armor had fallen out of style centuries ago). He didn't wear a hat, his long black hair drifted in the wind that had mysteriously shown up outside my cave.

"Trezlan Lorentino?" Questioning tone, like he expected something else.

"Yes?" My voice was dry, I hadn't spoken to someone in over a year and after an argument with myself had stopped talking to myself before that (look I'm still right, I just didn't feel like belaboring the point with someone so stubborn).

"Colonel Rojove Mr. Lorentino," He held his hand out and I shook it, I could see a look of minor revulsion when his hand touched my long boney one.

"Pleasure Colonel, if thats all I have things to get back to." I turned to go back to my table and I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"This isn't a social call Mr. Lorentino, I'm here on behalf of the emperor we need your help." The emperor needed my help? Yeah lets just say after my last visits with Ronerawth I wasn't exactly sure this was not a total trap.

"And I take it this isn't so much of a request? You do know that this is Red Hand Land right?" Not like I was a citizen of either, but an armed squad of six men couldn't have slipped someones notice somewhere.

"We have contacted the Red Hand and they were fine with us using your services." I'm sure they were, or didn't even know who I was.  The Red Hand wasn't known for their exact record keeping services. He smiled, I could see they had brought enough horses for me and it appeared a pack animal for my stuff.

"Am I to be paid for my services?" If I was going to be drug south to Ronerawth, I wanted at least just compensation.

"Handsomely," The Colonel had a handful of stamped gold coins that flashed in front of my eyes before he pocketed them.  I was half tempted to kill all the men and just take the gold, but I was also intrigued as to what an Emperor could need of a poor lowly necromancer like myself.

"Well then what are we waiting for? Have your servants collect my stuff and lets get this show on the road." It took hours for them to get all my books loaded on to their pack animals (They were so rough I had to show them multiple times the delicacy of some of the volumes I had). All the same we were eventually all mounted and headed south slowly (poor pack animals were loaded down pretty heavily). And thus began my journey back into the world, motivated by curiosity in money.  You know that could be the title of my memoires "Trezlan Lorentino: Curisoity and Money."

While I Was Out Part 2

Politics: My least favorite subject of anything really this will be as brief as I can make it.  Ronerawth as I said previously aside from the minor flare up against the tribals withdrew from politics on the main land mass. They completed their wall, set up cannons and other bombardments along the coast and maintained a seperate entity from the The Red Hand focussing instead on industry and expanding trade routes across the water.

The Red Hand combined industry with magic to partial success (lots of horrific death accompanied these successes). They also continued being overbearing dicks, with the invention of the steam engine and the tribal war they decided it best to lock down their territory something fierce.  Taxes went up, armed forces went up, and Judges went from the occaisional maurading magic murderer (love alliteration) to defacto tyrant rulers of areas, backed by the central government.  Once again the seeds of their own destruction were sewn in their overbearing rule.

Religion: In the wake of the tribal conflict and the crackdown by the Red Hand, the Followers of Fire expanded all over the Red Hand territories. Offering a strength in conflict belief system was appealing when it seemed like people were dying everywhere.  The Black Path also sprung up from this for much the opposite reason, people wanted to strive for peace through improvement, though the Followers and Black Path stood in idealogical difference neither one attacked the other openly (the followers while believing their religion superior never did care much for idealogical warfare, The Fire God believed weaker religions would be destroyed in good time without interference). I definately noticed more of both organizations religious paraphenalia becoming available everywhere, even with my infrequent trips to society.

So governments clamped down and religion blossomed, I tell you when I take a vacation from society things just go to hell.  Speaking going to hell, tomorrow I'll write about my return to not so polite society!

While I was Out Part 1

Nothing takes a break when you do, its the one inevitable thing about the world.  So while I was reading books, moving from dark cave to dark cave (killing the occaisional long forgotten beast of yore). The world got itself into a big damn hurry.

Travel: The major advance was the steam engine, both boats and trains.  With the trains came railway lines that stretched across the Red Hand and Ronerawth territories like spider webs. With travel being easier cities industry grew up over night along the tracks where as old trail towns withered and died.  Steam ships opened travel lanes across the ocean to other continents.  Which immediately lead to conflict with the people of those lands. It was one of the few times the Red Hand and Ronerawth united together to put down the conflict of the Tribals from across the water.

Conflict: The tribal conflict was a brief flare up, though it occured about twenty years after I gave up on the world and well into Ronerawth's withdrawal from the land masses normal conflicts.  It started with the Red Hand over reaching into the foreign world (shocking they are normally so subtle in political nuance).  Originally it ws confined to the land mass the tribals were located on (I call them tribals because thats as best I ever heard about them, I'm sure they have their own unique flavor, but over here its a curse word used to indicate barbarism). It wouldn't have even been a long conflict or noted if not for the Tribals anti magic weaponry and armor. In one of the few smart decisions the Red Hand ever made, they immediately called in the assistance of Ronerawth to stave off the coming tribal hoard (stupidly they didn't destroy their ships when the tribals turned the tables, though how they navigated the ocean to the Red Hand territory is beyond me, must have been some traitors that history has forgotten).

Ronerawth responded with their elite Ronerawth Imperial Guard (Known as R.I.G.'s to everyone, hell they are still known as that though thats the general term for Ronerawth military). In the time since the last conflict Ronerawth had used the new found industry to make new and deadlier bang sticks (Rifles, and pistols, multi shot with uniform bullet ammunition).  The conflict was less of a fight and more of an advertisement for Ronerawth's new firearms. Their job completed Ronerawth retreated back behind their nearly completed wall and continued refining their weaponry. The Red Hand certainly took note of their neighbors to the souths military might (in that they too began developing ballistic weaponry, though theirs were augmented by magic and thus had a bit of a reliability issue no Ronerawth weapon ever did).  The other major thing to emerge from the conflict other than fear of Ronerawths new weapons, was anti magic metal and shackles. No longer were magical people simply slain for being too powerful, now they could be effectively shackled and neutered.  The Red Hand tried their best to keep the techniques to themselves but the conflict got large enough that was impossible, and thus the seeds of their doom were created.

Those are just two of the aspects of new things that arose while I was checked out as it were.  Tomorrow I'll go over religion and a bit more of the general politics of things.  Woo! After that I'll explain why I rejoined the world and continued living even after I'd kind of giving up at both.