PrologueThe Dead Rise At Suppertime, Part 1It’s winter in the area around the quiet, unassuming hamlet of
Geldholm. It’s hardly past 5 in the evening, but it’s already getting quite dark. Most of the residents have scattered to their respective dwellings for the evening, be they homes, ditches or pubs, and the only street in the hamlet is almost devoid of life.
The same, however, cannot be said of the nearby
Great Hope Graveyard, about a stone’s throw to the north from the village, which, despite claiming to provide the final resting places of many hundreds, is positively teeming with activity at the present moment.
At the center of it all are two figures, one carefully enunciating words from an ancient-looking leather-bound tome, the other watching out for the slowly rising creatures all around them. Both are dressed in sack cloth robes that obscure virtually all of their features.
As the reader proceeds with the words, quickly forming elaborate incantations with undoubtedly dark purposes, two more figures approach the graveyard, one from the east, one from the west. Both are relatively new at this, both are confused, both have exactly the same question on their minds: just what in the hell is going on here?
One is
James Lanthorn, former pig farmer, the other is
Bruce Thomson, former physician. The only thing they have in common is the curse of vampirism, contracted from gods-know-who not very long ago. Needless to say, things have been quite confusing for the two of them lately, and they are to become more convoluted yet.
As the vampires draw close to the two individuals, the lookout spots them, gasps and starts poking the reader. The reader briefly glances away from the book. He obviously didn’t expect the two arrivals, as he suddenly stops his recital. The book suddenly begins to emit a purple glow.
The reader stares at the vampires for a second, completely at a loss for words. This is taken care of when the book he’s holding suddenly explodes into flames, at which point he becomes verbose indeed!
“Sweet mother of magic, that burns! You sons of bitches, why’d you have to explode my book like that! What did I ever do to you, you bastard creatures of the night? Why? WHY?”He drops the book on the ground and begins stomping on it, shouting at the flames for good measure. It takes him a good minute or so, but the flames are eventually extinguished, leaving a charred and brutalized mess of an occult tome. The vampires just glance at one another and shrug during all this, while the other robed person just panics and runs.
The necromancer picks up the remains of the book and looks through them.
“Let’s see, what’s left… no undead legions for me, crap… no death screams… damn, there’s only one spell I’ve got that would be of any help… guess I’ll just use that, then.”“Okay, listen up, you bastard vampires! You ruined my spell, now you’re coming with me!”He screams five mysterious words, and both James and Bruce feel something strange descend on their minds. Oh crap, they’ve been magically enslaved, haven’t they? And by this twerp, no less. How embarrassing.
The necromancer then points to four other creatures in the field – a zombie with what appears to be a
spiky, though burnt spherical haircut, a
spectral figure in perforated guard armor and two skeletons, one with an unusually long spine and a sign hanging from his neck with an inscription:
"Filthy freak of nature, deserved what he got!", the other holding a wreath that has
“We will always love you, Samuel.” written on it.
“Come here, you lazy corpses!” the necromancer yells, and the chosen undead obey.
“You too, sis!” he addresses the other figure.
“Alright, bro. Sorry for running away back there,” the sister says, coming back from a nearby tomb she had sought shelter in.
“I guess we’ll just leave the rest of these walking corpses be. Maybe we’ll need them later,” the necromancer says, mostly to himself. He then gestures in the air.
There is a flash of light, then darkness.
Here's the first part of the prologue for you, part two coming soon.
People who have been chosen (I've sent PMs), respond that you are, indeed, there. Don't post an action just yet, however. Prologue's not done yet, you know.
Once the prologue is done, I will explain more about the game mechanics in the notes.
Those who did not get chosen, do not fret. Even if the death toll stays low, I will find some way to work you into the story.
Author
Topic: Life Begins At Death - Epilogue: We Live And Live Again (Read 563767 times)