It would be interesting to look up the history of that undead that killed you.
As for the skeleton, I found nothing interesting in the legends.
The fire crackled in the hearth as the old man sat in his ancient leather chair. The howling wind outside rattled the ancient grimy windows, as the man placed his spectacles on his nose and replied to his visitor.
“Kiros Carnagescrapes? An unusual name. Let me see...”
The wizened old human shuffled down the hallway of the dusty library and carefully and slowly removed from a shelf a very old and very heavy book, thick with a layer of grime and ancient dust.
“Kiros… Kiros? Ah!
“Oh this is what we are looking for. It seems that Kiros lived in this very city around 800 years ago. He was a record keeper, though he is registered as also being proficient with a pike.
“According to these ancient ledgers, Kiros was a bandit, a member of an organisation known as the Tired Crabs. The Tired Crabs moved into the fledging Dinnerwandered in the year 214. They appear to have grown and prospered in the sewers of the town. The records from this time clearly record Kiros as a criminal, a petty thief.
“It further appears that in the year 368, a member of the local militia had reason to enter these sewers. Perhaps on a quest from the ruling families, or perhaps searching for a missing loved one. I am sure we will never know. Inid Lashtaught was by any account an average man. A woodworker to trade though with some skill in the sword.
“The books here record that he confronted Kiros in the sewers, and in the ensuing battle, struck him down. As far as I can tell, Inid then led an entirely uneventful life.
“The corpse of Kiros was never recovered, and in the sewer it lay for the best part of a millennium.”
The old man slammed the book shut with a sudden crack.
“But you and I both know that is not the end of his story, or you would not have saught me out, mister?”
The visitor did not reply, merely showing the record keeper his ring, a signet inscribed with the onyx sigil of Teshil Despairdaub…
The old man paused. After thinking a moment he continued his search, before pulling a tightly bound scroll from an inconspicuous cabinet.
His wizened voice was suddenly steely.
“What I tell you here today is not common knowledge and you would do well to remember this. There are some secrets which could be very… damaging. Now I do not know you nor why you have come to find me, but you bear the seal of the Museum of Dinnerwandered and that is good enough for me.
“Istrul Spraykingdoms was once one of our finest clergy. He rose among the ranks of the ecclesiarchy to become the chief inquisitor of the church, the Temple of Lurking, in around 1068. He took it upon himself to cleanse Dinnerwandered of the undead threat. But as happens so often, he was a weak and flawed man, and succumbed to the delicious whispers of power. I do not need to tell you, sir, of the untold riches and secrets locked in that place you call a Museum.
“On one fateful day, Istrul, driven mad by hubris, read an ancient book.
The ancient librarian peered over his thick glasses…
“Immortality in the Time of My Ancestors is the name of the forbidden book he read. It was created around 700 years ago, after the time of Kiros and Inid, by a human necromancer by the name of Rorec Helmstrick. My records do not indicate who deposited this tome in the Museum, but I suspect that it was part of the cache of the necromancer adventurer Kaslun Wadsomber who famously was too illiterate to read the forbidden secrets…”
The librarian stifled a chuckle.
“But I digress... Istrul was forever changed by his greed for unknown things. He took to the sewers and made himself a great army of zombies. On one fateful day, he raised the corpse of Kiros Carnagescrapes and lead him from the catacombs across the plains.
“From the journals he left behind, we know that to his final breath, Istrul deluded himself that he was doing the work of his church. In the end, he was ambushed and slaughtered by a kobold warband, of all things, and died an ignominious death.
“Now, if what you tell me is correct, then for 80 years since the death of his master, the zombie Kiros has wandered the Hideous Waste of Bandits to the south of Dinnerwandered, the sun flaying the ancient flesh from his bleached bones, until the young elf you spoke of happened to cross his path…”
The old man placed the scroll carefully where he found it.
“Now you must go,” he smiled, “but I suspect I will have reason to speak with you again soon...”
Author
Topic: The Museum: Adventure mode succession world (DF 34.11) (Read 819589 times)