So many different people from so many different walks of life. Mortimer watched as the others got reacquainted with coming back to life. Some of them looked disoriented. Maybe their deaths weren't pleasant. Mortimer chuckled. Death was never pleasant. He looked to the redhead when she spoke up and told them all that they had all been chosen by the Pale Lady. It gave him relief to hear that he was seen as a hero by the Pale Lady. He doubted that the stories told of him made him a hero in the eyes of the public. At least his name wasn't linked to his history as Roaming Death. 

His gaze shifted to the robed man, who introduced himself as Ffamran. The name didn't spark any memory, but what did was the name Dizarach. Mortimer's book slipped from his suddenly slack fingers into the snow below. He had found the lich's notes before his second chance, and they helped him become the lich that he had been so many years ago. Mortimer bent down and picked the book up off the ground. 

Now that Mortimer had a name to use, he searched his book for information. "It's more of a cautionary tale." Mortimer glanced up from his book at Ffamran. "I don't know what your final words were, but miss Beoulve here died in the same battle that killed you. She and D--the lich killed each other." Mortimer looked back down and read aloud the notes he had written down.

[i]"After it became clear that the lich had been using the kingdom of Entei Bahara for his own gain, a tenuous peace was formed between the two kingdoms after many tragic losses, including the first paladin Ravness Beoulve and the prince of Entei Bahara."[/i] 

Mortimer turned through the pages of his journal. "This peace lasted between the two..." He flipped a few more pages. "For at least seven thousand years after the death of the lich. Of course, the kingdom had changed names and rulers several times throughout those years." Mortimer frowned as he reached the last page of notes. His words had been scratched frantically across the page. 

[i]"Due to geographical instability, the kingdom once known as Entei Bahara has been declared unsafe. The displaced have been pouring into Igros. Hundreds by the day. It is unknown how many have survived and how many have perished. Once everything calms down I will-"[/i]

Mortimer snapped the book shut. Enough had been said. He clicked his tongue twice and made a beckoning motion with his finger. He looked around, but nothing happened. Creaky wasn’t here. He chuckled. Old habits die hard. "That's about it for Entei Bahara. As for introductions, I am Mortimer Vandall."

From underneath a nearby snowbank came shifting movement and a muffled, panicked cawing of a crow. Then the snow shifted and a skull of a crow peered out from the pile of snow. It let out an indignant sounding cry and struggled to move but it was firmly stuck in the snowbank. It paused for a moment before it cawed loudly at Fiametta, the closest person to it.