jeroukoo@CoyoteLovely@Hekazu@EchoesofOld@Mataus@Ciaran@Normie@Tristwich@SpawnMeme@Kasai Uchiha
The air was dank and smelled of death centuries old. Dark magic floated on the winds, whispering in the minds of those who could hear. Hints of deadly power that could topple kingdoms and drive men insane with the snap of a finger.
At least it isn't literally Hell this time. Fionn thought as he stared down the unending staircase. The necromantic energies were so thick here that the sensors in his suit were having a hard time picking anything up. In the case of the darkness before them they were of no more use than his eyes.
He turned to reach for a torch only to stop when he caught sight of figures scattered over the nearby plains. Their dress was eye catchingly bright in comparison to the monochromatic surroundings. The armored mage focused, his helmet reading the electrical surges in his grey matter and zooming in with its digital binoculars. An interesting collection if ever he'd seen one.
A overly enthusiastic boy, a female barbarian that had somehow managed to keep her makeup and pretty clothes in some resemblance of order. An orc with a flintlock rifle. The way he held said weapon hinted at a familiarity with much more advanced weaponry. And the look on his face was more intelligent and less hostile than most examples of the species on Ecetopia. And last but not least was...
"Well now. Looks like we've attracted the attention of the locals." He said quietly. More to himself than his companions.
He was about to activate the loudspeaker functions of his suits and call out when the wind abruptly surged. His head whipped around, likely followed by the other magically sensitive members of the party, towards the obelisk at the center of the wheel of cairns. A surge of energy was building in the huge statue.
Unearthly green energy slowly built within the obsidian confines of the massive construction, screaming figures pounded on what was quickly becoming a window into one of the more unpleasant areas of the afterlife. The cries of the dammed were almost audible, although to the ears or mind none could say. The alien light continued to grow ever brighter. Bright enough that even those with no magical talent could clearly see what was happening. It was almost too bright to look at when, with a sound like a great gong it all exploded outward.
Pure necromantic energy swept out for miles in every direction like some sort of twisted Aurora Borealis. In its wake was a silence even more profound and unnerving than that normally found in the wastes. Not even the wind howled. The land of the dead held a breath none knew it ever had.
Then the moaning starting.
Hands thrust up through the ground. Some looked whole, others were missing scraps of flesh. Other were entirely skeletal. They were quickly joined by arms, than shoulder, heads, torsos. Entries bodies. What had been an open desert was quickly being dotted with walking corpses in various manners of decomposition.
At first they just shambled about. As if trying out their newly resurrected bodies. But as more and more clawed their way from the bone shard sand their gazes turned to the living amongst their ranks. The skeletons were the first to move, nimble and quick without bags of dead flesh holding them down, they charged towards the adventurers.
What had at first been a scattering was quickly turning into a mob. Soon it would be a horde. Above it all a voice rose, urgent in tone and amplified beyond normal human volumes.
"MOVE YOUR ASSES IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!"
Fionn Harken
The air was dank and smelled of death centuries old. Dark magic floated on the winds, whispering in the minds of those who could hear. Hints of deadly power that could topple kingdoms and drive men insane with the snap of a finger.
At least it isn't literally Hell this time. Fionn thought as he stared down the unending staircase. The necromantic energies were so thick here that the sensors in his suit were having a hard time picking anything up. In the case of the darkness before them they were of no more use than his eyes.
He turned to reach for a torch only to stop when he caught sight of figures scattered over the nearby plains. Their dress was eye catchingly bright in comparison to the monochromatic surroundings. The armored mage focused, his helmet reading the electrical surges in his grey matter and zooming in with its digital binoculars. An interesting collection if ever he'd seen one.
A overly enthusiastic boy, a female barbarian that had somehow managed to keep her makeup and pretty clothes in some resemblance of order. An orc with a flintlock rifle. The way he held said weapon hinted at a familiarity with much more advanced weaponry. And the look on his face was more intelligent and less hostile than most examples of the species on Ecetopia. And last but not least was...
"Well now. Looks like we've attracted the attention of the locals." He said quietly. More to himself than his companions.
He was about to activate the loudspeaker functions of his suits and call out when the wind abruptly surged. His head whipped around, likely followed by the other magically sensitive members of the party, towards the obelisk at the center of the wheel of cairns. A surge of energy was building in the huge statue.
Unearthly green energy slowly built within the obsidian confines of the massive construction, screaming figures pounded on what was quickly becoming a window into one of the more unpleasant areas of the afterlife. The cries of the dammed were almost audible, although to the ears or mind none could say. The alien light continued to grow ever brighter. Bright enough that even those with no magical talent could clearly see what was happening. It was almost too bright to look at when, with a sound like a great gong it all exploded outward.
Pure necromantic energy swept out for miles in every direction like some sort of twisted Aurora Borealis. In its wake was a silence even more profound and unnerving than that normally found in the wastes. Not even the wind howled. The land of the dead held a breath none knew it ever had.
Then the moaning starting.
Hands thrust up through the ground. Some looked whole, others were missing scraps of flesh. Other were entirely skeletal. They were quickly joined by arms, than shoulder, heads, torsos. Entries bodies. What had been an open desert was quickly being dotted with walking corpses in various manners of decomposition.
At first they just shambled about. As if trying out their newly resurrected bodies. But as more and more clawed their way from the bone shard sand their gazes turned to the living amongst their ranks. The skeletons were the first to move, nimble and quick without bags of dead flesh holding them down, they charged towards the adventurers.
What had at first been a scattering was quickly turning into a mob. Soon it would be a horde. Above it all a voice rose, urgent in tone and amplified beyond normal human volumes.
"MOVE YOUR ASSES IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!"