[center]Chapter 1: Call of the Banshee

[i]The Distant Sands;
City of Caplarit, Catacombs[/i] [/center]

The spacious scarcely decorated catacombs of Caplarit echoed with a harsh cold wind which vibrated off the stone walls. The chill in the air seemed to bite through Elisker Hagathan's cloak with ease. The matter was not helped at all by the fact that outside the tomb the sun was high in the sky, both bright and oppressively hot. Though Dmitra felt that the chill coursing his spine was more to do with where he was and less to do with the lack of heat. The crypt was dark and foreboding, the only sources of light were the hooded lanterns, one of which he carried with him. Despite the fact the flame was safely housed within the glass cage, every new brisk wind always seemed to threaten to blow it out in Elisker's eyes.

Elisker Hagathan was not a man given to fear easily, after all, he was a proud Knight Captain of the Order of The Old God. He had faced down his fair share of demons, beast, and other horrors birthed by the Princes of Ruin. He had even battled against the likes of Ogres and once a Slaver Demon.(though he had barely escaped that encounter with his life, or freedom more to the point)

Yet there was something unearthly and inhuman about this place, something...[i]wrong[/i]. His four fellow paladins bringing up the rear could feel it too he held no doubt. The constantly looked about, peering into every shadow and whipping their head around at a perceived moving shadow in the gloom. Uneasy would be an understatement to be sure. They felt it too, that tale-tell feeling of being watched.

Recent reports had told of strange happenings going on in the catacombs where the city kept their honored dead, which stood in the center of a great graveyard. Ghastly wails, great moans in the dark of night, and even the odd sighting of ghostly apparitions. The head master in the Distant Sands had at first ignored the call for investigation by the local militia. Believing the reports to be nothing more then mere superstitious claims. Even with the Orders great numbers and resources, when compared the Order of the Aether or the Silent Dawn at least, they could hardly be expected to jump at every bump in the night. 

So the city had sent armed patrols to find out the legitimacy of the claims. The first had been inconclusive as the guards had only done a halfhearted search at best, but continued rumors resulted in a second more thorough incursion. The end result had been four missing guardsman and the two survivors reduced to blabbering fools. Those two had been the lucky ones, sent fleeing from the crypt white faced and screaming about monstrous creatures of shadow and death. After hearing of that the Order felt sending a patrol of paladins to inspect the catacombs themselves was imperative. 

So here Elisker was leading his comrades to discover the source of such unrest. A necromancer was strongly believed to be behind the strange happenings. Though more then a few quite whispers said a more malevolent entity might be at work here. Such as a prince of Ruin. All the more reason the Order could no longer ignore this. The five paladins came to a large circular antechamber that lead in four different directions. Elisker still in the lead raised his hand for a halt and paused considering. So far they had not come across so much as an unsettling growl. Nothing but cobwebs, the sound of their boots on the cold flagstones and the whisper of the wind. The near utter silence of the place was unsettling. 

"Well, which way should we go?" Baeise, who was second in line, asked. The hint of nervousness evident in his tone. Elisker said nothing at first, as he scanned every dark hallway with the light from his lantern. Pothe walked up next to him, a cautious eye scanning the dark shadows about them before stating wryly. "May as well chose quick-like, faster we're out of these hall the better."

Elisker wholeheartedly agreed. "We'll take the bend going to the right here and following it until we reach the western corridors, then head north, then east and around until we cover the whole catacomb. Whatever the hells going on here we'll uncover it soon enough." 

The others nodded their acceptance while Pothe placed a small lite candle in the center of the room. It's flame bending back the way they had come, marking that as the entrance. They marched on through west hallway until they came to another intersection where another corridor split away from the one why walked. Tesand who had been bringing up the rear, and the youngest of the group, gave a cry and draw his sword. The others whirled around instantly on guard searching for enemies. They breathed easier when a large rat skippered from the shadows to vanish into a large crack in the wall in the antechamber.

"Wait...false alarm." Tesand said slightly embarrassed.

Aler, easily the largest of the group, who stood beside him gave a chuckle at his companion and clamped his hand on his comrades shoulder. "At ease brother, tis only a mouse." No sooner had the words left his mouth when an unearthly wail echoed throughout the halls. They were quickly on guard once more weapons in hand, eyes sweeping about them. 

"What in the Old Gods name was that?" Baeise voiced, his grip on his short sword tightening until his knuckles turned white.

"Hold Brothers!" Elisker commanded steeling his nerves. They remained steadfast, searching all around. Another cry came as if in answer to the first, soon followed by another then silence ensued.

"Where..." Elisker heard Tesand ask. He wondered the same, for the echoing effect of the walls made distinguishing so much as a direction of the noise impossible. After a moment more Elisker and his paladins continued onward. Their nerves shaken but knights of the Old God would not be so easily intimidated. They followed the winding hall until it lead to a large chamber with only one other exit. Here many of the dead were kept. Tombs built into the walls where caskets where kept, and the dead rested. Only some of those tombs were empty, oddly so. 

Elisker lantern in hand walked up to on of them and gazed inside. He rose again shaking his head. Baeise came up beside him, a questioning look upon his brow. 

"Their Empty." Elisker voiced. 

Baeise shrugged. "Can't expect them all to have a body captain." 

But Elisker only shook his head again. "No, it's not that. Look closer. See, the dust at the center and around the edges? Like something was moved...and recently. Not to mentioned the lack of cobwebs inside." 

Baeise looked more closely and he too noticed the oddities. Pothe further down the chamber voiced he also found more of the same, with more empty tombs them would otherwise be normal. Closer inspections revealed that someone, or thing, had indeed been active down in the catacombs, evidence of much activity was present here and there. Signs of more traffic then would be considered normal. After a while they regrouped in the center of the chamber. 

"Well? What does it all mean? I've been finding prints everywhere, and by more then a few individuals." Tesand reported. 

Aler only grimly nodded his head. "I've been finding much the same. Some of the previously closed off tombs show signs of being forced open. It also seems random at best, no full row of bodies are gone, just a select few..."

"Who could have done such a thing?" Pothe asked, seemingly more to himself then the rest. 

"Or why?" Tesand pipped.

Elisker could only shake his head at it all. If someone was indeed making off with dead, where did they go with them? How could they have even done so without anyone noticing until now? What nefarious designs could one have for a corpse? The whole thing smelled of suspicion to Elisker. Worse still they had yet to come across any signs of the previous patrol of guards. They had seemingly vanished into thin air, much like dead who had laid in those tombs. 

"We will search a bit more, see what else we might uncover. Once that's down I'll need to file a report. The Headmaster must be told of this." 

[center][i]Alfarr's Wildlands[/i][/center]

The sun had already began to set as the winds swept across the expanse of desert sands and dunes. A huge scorpion-like creature skittered across the cooling sands in search of prey. With the oppressive hot sun melting behind the horizon there was little to stop it's hunt. As the night began to claim the surroundings of the bleak sandy rocks, the scorpion continued its hunt. Skittering from under rocks or over dunes of sand. Unlike most arthropods that lived in Anadara's southern regions this one was almost the size of a mans head, its jointed body shiny and a shade of green so dark as to almost be black. 

Minute hairs coated its legs and torso, evolved to trap moisture from the dry atmosphere of the desert environment. They also served as sensory addenda to the large palps that moved about its head. Long, multiple-jointed legs slid carefully over the sands and stone, the body of the creature slung between them. The insect sampled the night air, and felt the perturbations of it for signs of other life. It was a predator, feeding on smaller varieties of its own phylum, flying mites, and the occasional tarantula.

It hesitated on a patch of rocks, considering as best the cluster of nerves that were its brain would let it. Sensing something it had not quite encountered before. Suddenly and unexpectedly the ground beneath it broke apart as a slender pallid hand broke forth and grabbed one of the creatures legs. With Sudden and vicious strength it was instantly pulled underneath the shifting sands... 

Minutes later a figure burst from the dull brown sands gasping a breath of cold air like it was their first. His eyes snapped open. Colors seemed dim, and every sound was foreign and filled with newness. He took a moment to take in his surroundings shaking wariness from his head. 

Rather than warmth, a chill emanated from within him, making his very chest feel heavy and his extremities feel ablaze with heat. The world appeared strange, and as he struggled to rise, sand falling from his form, he suddenly had the sense that he controlled a body not his own. It took a moment for him to realize that indeed nothing was his own. [i]'You know that'[/i]. He thought to himself. [i]'You remember that'[/i]. That's when the memories came. Before this place, he struggled in...somewhere cold. The sky was dark, but it was also somehow alight with flowing color—as if the wind glowed instead of the stars. Sand buried everything, veiling the landscape into funereal forms.

And before that...other memories—scenes, faces, feelings—all a jumble, all confused like a half-forgotten dream. Yet the figure knew one thing for certain. He was dead. Judging from how he looked and felt, as he looked at his pale emaciated hands, he might be a little dead still. Working his way to his feet he continued to inspect his form as he tired to piece together what it all meant. But a new wave of memories hit him, causing him to stagger in their intensity. Yet this sensation felt like more a subtle command of sorts rather then a true memory.

With a steady breath, though he found he no longer needed to breath, he picked a direction and started walking, noting all he could about what he saw and heard as he went. He might not have remembered everything about who he was, but he could and would make new memories while he tired to find out. Something else hounded his thoughts however as he drove out into an eerily familiar world: The dead don't come back to life by accident. Someone did this to you, he knew that much, and whoever that was had a reason.