[H2][color=#9cb6c3][right]Solomon Sparrow[/right][/color][/H2] [right][b][color=#9cb6c3]Location: [/color][/b] Fanghorn, Kindeance [/right] [hr] The afterlife, the great beyond, heaven, hell, what lay ahead once someone had taken their final breath remained unknown. Even the elves, rumored to have descended from angels, could not answer. Or at least the few he asked dare not answer. It mattered not. For the removal of agency towards a person’s willingness to pass on to such a place was what Solomon strove to fight against. It was a cause Solomon felt so deeply about, he extended his vision to others, patrons seeking to live beyond the fragile mortal limitations given at birth. He especially wished to share that chance, that future, to those whose choice was made for them unjustly. Solomon’s wishes even extended to his adversaries. At first it was a means of himself taking control over the lives of others. Distinctly those former militia men of Meche who took the life of his family. Resentment would still swell inside Solomon towards the evil of greed, murder, and exploitation. However, Solomon would hide it, and though forgiveness was difficult, with even former enemies willing to hold onto the world they knew, there was the common ground. A second chance many would never get to see. Adversary, ally, or accidental casualty, one thing still tied them all together. While Solomon offered a chance to return to the world anew, whatever the afterlife was, whatever was out there ruling over the heavens had their own grasp upon the spirits of the dead. Some times, emanations of that false world would also reach towards the spirits of the recently passed and offer their own sanctuary. Ragnar was of one such case. Ancestors of battles past called forth to him. Yet despite the call, there was still uncertainty. The fact Ragnar was entertaining the idea brought forth a tension between Solomon and Ragnar’s ancestors. “Go then, join your ancestors. Though the passage of time between the battles I offer could be immense, it would be like no time passed for you. For that we are similar. However, beyond offering a chance to fight new champions born among and still live across the Earth, I do not have much else to offer.” Solomon stood just outside the keep during this interaction. An observer might have seen him only pause. Solomon fully expected Ragnar to embrace his new destiny among the battle with his ancestors, so once Solomon finished his comment, he continued on towards the village, not returning to the keep for a short while. After lastly speaking with the lingering spirit of Asevor, Solomon remained where he was, looking back towards the village. His eyes closed as the air around his person became heavy. Those who had accepted his contract would be bound to Solomon’ and the large tome of the dead in which all his power originated. For the first time in casting his spells, the tome itself stirred. Solomon held his hands out to his sides and book was magically unbuckled, the steel plates protecting the covers fell to the ground, and various magical seals became visible before fading. The book hovered in front of Solomon, the darkened pages opened. Though the glimpse would be brief, various magical inscriptions could be seen on each page, splashes of blood, ghostly imprints, and some completely blackened with ink. Thin black strands manifest from around him, flowing into the pages, new lines of inscriptions appearing across the pages, along with new signatures, blots, or ghostly aberrations covering the newly printed words. As soon as the last of the names were imprinted, the book clasped shut, returning to it’s place upon Solomon’s back, the safeguards and protections returning. With a sigh, Solomon took a step forward. At the keep, Petra stood within the door of the stairwell. Her spectral arms were crossed as she watched the others. Since retrieving the prince, and dealing with his awe and questions of what she was, she wanted to distance herself from the others now that the fighting was done. Though she was interested to see what kind of magic Asevor was building, it was having to deal with everyone else that bothered her. For her, seeing everyone joking as they were, even the more mature appearing of them, Jazdia, she found it remarkable they were able to accomplish what they had done already. The vampire was passive. The samurai was useless. The bear created a storm he himself couldn’t manage. She questioned who would hire this lot for such an ‘important’ mission as rescuing the crown heir. Even Solomon was useless as well, having to rely on her and the other dead he selfishly enslaved. Petra turned her head to see what Jazdia was up to. The elf had separated from the others to explore the upper floors of the keep. It made no difference to Petra. She moved out of the way of the door so the elf could clamber up the stairs. Petra let her arms drop once she noticed that Solomon’s shadow peaking through the remains of the doorway back into the keep. Solomon returned. He could see that everyone was recovered enough to move about. Cedar had awakened, free of many of his bandages, having healed himself of the worse of it. The prince remained near the injured orc. Chounan and Yvonne had procured food and drink, though the former was not able to be found among the others. When Solomon returned Jazdia was already ascending the stairwell antechamber, and Cedar was introducing himself. Solomon was able to catch bits of the conversation. Spirits seemed to be much higher now, and that was a good thing. “I am Solomon Sparrow.” he said as he joined the rest of the group, “I’ve come back from, er, paying my respects to those lost. I apologize for my hasty retreat from the room you were imprisoned. I had to find the key bearer. I am pleased to see that your information has helped me greatly in that endeavor. Pleasure to make introductions.” Solomon walked towards the table where Asevor’s belongings sat, retrieving his own pack off the ground and placing it near. He began removing various tools, and shards of glass. Luckily, the containers containing more potent contaminants were in more durable containers. Though their glass linings were shattered, there wasn’t much risk of exposure. He started cleaning out the pack, and rehousing his mixtures using the various empty containers he could find. He took a pause and looked back up at the prince. “In case you wanted to know, the person whom retrieved you is named Petra. These two are Danielle and Vengel. Neither they, nor I expect you to remember who is who though.” Two shadowy forms of a humanoid figure emerged from around Solomon. They were the only two to survive all of Asevor’s purge undead spells throughout Fanghorn. Both were nondescript outside of recognizing a humanoid shape. “Please, keep watch around the keep. We may freed the prince and eliminated the captors, but I fear there may be more at play. At the very least, a watch cannot hurt.” said Solomon. One of the shadows immediately shrunk down in size, no long visible to anyone. The second lingered. “Yes, if that is where Chounan is, then supplement his field of view.” the other shadow disappeared similarly to the first.