War of the Dead

It was a dark stormy night...

It was cold, windy, rainy, sleeting, hazy, and dark. Everything you need to start a bad story. Our adventures, all being out and about for their own reasons, got caught out in the storm. Off in the distance they could see the shadow of a low tower. All of them being drawn by the promise of shelter, they approached and found each other. Their pleasantries and introductions were cut short however, as they soon realized they weren’t alone. The small amount of light produced from the tower’s lantern reflected off the eyes of the wolves as they approached the humanoids. The group readied themselves as the starving wolves charged. The awful sloppy mess the rain and sleet turned the ground into, made it difficult to maneuverer but that didn’t stop the wolves from trying to drag their new found prey off into the woods. No, the weapons and spells of the adventures did that as they put the wolves down one by one. Not realizing who was out there, the owner of the tower tried calling out over the rain. “Get inside my tower! You’ll be safe in here!” Her cries fell on deaf ears as the bodies of the wolves were dragged to the tower.

With the knocking at the door the owner of the tower beckoned the travelers in with their new found trophies. After some quick introductions everyone moved upstairs to stew some wolf by the fire. Tharill, the tower’s owner, was quite impressed by the group’s skill and decided to try and hire them. The old woman told her story, about the town of Everlund. How it used to be protected by powerful artifacts. The artifacts were used to defeat those that threatened the town but they were all used up. When a goblin invasion came the town had to be abandoned. That was 8 years ago. Recently Tharill had been going through some old documents and discovered that there should be another one of the power gems hidden somewhere in the town. She wants the group to find the gem so it can be destroyed.

Our story begins...

The date is Kythorn the third of the year of the Awakened Sleepers, 1484 DR. Over the past five years the dead have become extremely restless. A corpse lumbering through a field is as common a threat now as a pack of wolves in a forest. Whole graveyards just wake up and slaughter entire towns and news of such things has become normal. The number of death cults has risen dramatically, bringing the worship of beings such as Orcus and Vecna widespread. Doom sayers spread fear that it is the beginning of the end. Kelemvor’s doomguides have no answers as to why such things are happening, just that we have to trust that the Lord of the Dead will see us through such a hard time. Even as they say such things, they themselves get slaughtered by the undead and Kelemvor’s temples get pillaged just the same, as the deity remains silent. Who will force the undead back into their eternal slumber? Who will uncover those behind such heinous acts? Who will lead the fight against death itself?

((You? Ha! You wish… Roll a D6.))


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