[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/FohmS05.png[/img][/center]

[center][b]Gripus Probus[/b][/center]

[center][i]Hero of the East, Bane of Morven[/i][/center]

[center][b]Location: Fifteen miles west of Actium, the road between Corpsewood and the Iron Forest[/b][/center]

The rain came down hard, and held an icy value. Gripus shivered beneath his thick robes as water drenched his arcane flesh, filtering its way through to the decrepit body beyond. 

"What are you doing, old man?" he mumbled to himself; Shadowmere snorted with indifference. "Going alone, on a last chance glory march of questionable redemption."

[i]I had a part in this evil, like many others. It must be me to finish him.[/i]

"Yes but why?" Lightning momentarily broke the monotony of the grey sky. "You said yourself - you bear no more of the burden than hundreds of others. You weren't the only survivor, not by far, and it wasn't you who decided it wise to cast Magnor's body to the sea." 

[i]I should have returned to break that tower.[/i]

"The Magi should have returned," he grumbled. "You spent six weeks recovering from green flames that tore flesh from your bones, and then you resigned. Why do you persist in this guilt? It is not yours to claim." 

[i]Leave me alone.[/i]

"Oh Gripus, you are a funny one," he finished, as a shadow crossed the extremity of his vision. 

A lone corpse, its body limp and seemingly suspended on a singular string, crept forwards from the darkness of Corpsewood. Mottled flesh, blackened bone and soulless pearls confronted him in all its undead horror. The Mage did not immediately react, and regarded the visitor as an interesting passer-by. 

[i]I should have stayed at Magnus.[/i]

"Nonsense," Gripus chirped cheerily, smiling at the abomination shambling towards him. "It's not for you to caress the egos of children, who would rather piss-pat over imagined injury than prevent a world wide catastrophe." 

[i]True enough.[/i]

The Mage raised his hand at the creature, its features clearly visible as it stumbled onto the decrepit paving of the old roadway. It had been a woman once, possibly an elf; she wore the fashion of another time. The necromancy imbuing the corrupted vessel was weak, a mere echo. With a slight effort of focus, Gripus released the creature of its torment. Rotted joints and brittle bones gave way in a small avalanche, as he dispelled the necromancy holding the former Elf maiden together. 

"Be at peace," Gripus mumbled, fearing he would be repeating those words a few thousand times before he reached his destination. 

Lightning struck out across the sky, and the rain continued to fall.