The Hin and the Necromancer-Tommy Slick-Boot Bones Origins
Posted: Fri Jul 04, 2014 11:49 am
Tommy Slick-Boot Bones
Race: Strongheart Halfling
Age: 121
Height: 4' Feet 1" inch
Weight: 85 pounds
Eyes: Coal Black
Hair: Coal Black
Facial hair: Gotee
Personality
Health: A middle aged hin in good health (con 12)
Deity: Tommy worships no deity.
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Base Class: Sorcerer
Development: Sorcerer (Specializes in Necromancy)/Arcane Scholar of Candlekeep/ Thaumaturgist/ Assassin
Languages: Common, Abysal, Assassin, Halfling, Dwarven, Elven, Inferno, and a few more.
Weapon: Daggers and Light Crossbow
Habits: Often seen Smoking exotic smelling pipe-weed if seen lounging around and not active. Cursing at inappropriate times. Wearing a nice hat and never leaving it behind (almost always).
The Damndest Day
Tommy Slick-Boot Bones was born as Tommy Bandawax in a small remote halfling village called Bittertree that exists no longer. Tommy's parents, Fosco and Elanor, were industrious farmers and tended to the crops from sun up to sun down. The small farming village was razed more than ninety years ago by a powerful necromancer and his army of undead warriors leaving behind only burned out hunts and desecrated remains. Neighboring villages gave up on the search long ago and stayed far away from unholy grounds where only the restless undead now roamed. Despite the absolute destruction of the village, there was a survivor. A small male halfling child of no more than 10 years cried out loudly that night from the confines of a old weathered leather sack dangling from a galloping horse. The cries for Mother fell on deaf ears as Elanor lay dead face down on the ground, hacked repeatedly by the crudely forged blades of the damned.
Tommy was little more than a small boy in halfling years when he fell under the ownership of Strago Montabara the Maligned Necromancer whom many halfling villages paid tributes to in order to appease him. Understandably, most the gnomish and halfling villagers did not want to be turned into horrifying undead creations, but the folk in Bittertree thought they could stand up to this undead rot that preyed upon the powerless farmers. The citizens of Bittertree had built up a formidable militia in short time and felt safe and secure believing the militia could handle one crazed necromancer. But, fate would eventually prove the bold villagers wrong. Now, the sole survivor of the Bittertree massacre was held captive in a tiny cage that looked like it was built for birds. Tommy's small black beady eyes examined the stone room packed with old tomes, empty flasks, potions, and scattered paper debris. Little Tommy was frighten and remained deathly silent that first cold night locked away in Strago's study.
Life in the Necromancers Tower
Tommy was Strago's toy that he could play with. The necromancer kept the small hin locked up the large birdcage for hours at a time. Strago only let him out when he wanted the hin to perform various chores around the tower. The small boy was tormented by not only Strago, but his familiar, an imp named Grixen. The imp would physically bully Tommy and concoct horrific tales about how the master would soon feed him to Grubar, the putrid one eyed undead hill giant zombie locked away in the large dungeon that also served as a morgue. Every night, little Tommy would hear the horrific rumbling groans as the undead monstrosity stood in he middle of his large cell shackled with four large chains anchored to the floor and that rattled with every slight movement. The small hin had been below doing chores right next to Grubar's chamber and looked in on him once. The sight of the large creature covered with blueish putrid drooping flesh was all too much for the small boy.
Grubar's condition gave Tommy reoccurring nightmares for many years. Tommy was all too familiar with Grubar's feedings having witnessed Strago bringing in victims for the monstrosity to feast upon. The horrific screams of victims combined with snapping and popping sounds were a regular feature in Strago's tower of horrors. Strago himself was a stoic, calculating, and cruel man. A few times Strago purposely left an obvious escape route for Tommy to take advantage of. Both times Tommy attempted to escape while running across the fields toward any destination that would take him far far away from the tower. And both times Strago allowed the young boy to wander for days before sending in Grixen to hunt him down. Grixen always caught Tommy, and always beat on the small hin with his tiny cat o nine whip before teleporting them both back to the master of the tower.
Strago never physically tormented Tommy, being usually too frail to even move around for long periods of time without the aid of magical enchantments. Instead the necromancer chose to torment Tommy by creating traumatizing illusions in his head and allowing those to play out over the course of hours. The old necromancer recreated images of that fateful night when Strago's forces razed Tommy's village. This was one of the old man's favorite tactics to employ and a genuine hobby of his. During the mental sessions, the old man's breathing became rapid, wispy, and his chest rattled with phlegm as his excitement always grew when watching the pitiful small boy clutching at his head and shaking with fright in his cage. Strago's dull blue orbs would study Tommy during these torture sessions with sadistic delight. Strago's long grey hair, unkempt shaggy beard, and cadaverously jaunt facial features were an unnerving sight for any young halfling. Tommy never tried to escape the tower again.
Every year on the same day, Strago would threaten to feed Tommy to Grubar. Despite that, every year Tommy was left alive for another year to toil away working in the tower. Strago had every intention of feeding the small hin to his tortured and monstrous creation, but he could not deny Tommy's utility as a house servant and toy. Tommy often thought about his early childhood and living with his loving parents. Tommy recalled many warm memories like playing in the cabbage field's chasing down butterflies, the glow of mother's stove, the smell of a freshly baked bandaberry pie, and playing "sticks" with the other children in his home village. The warm memories only seemed to torment Tommy more when he was forced to contrast them to the nightmare reality he was currently trapped in. Tommy was once was a happy and optimistic youth, but by the time Tommy matured into young adulthood under Strago's tutelage, he had become a broken, lonesome, and terrified Halfling.
Twist of Fate
After four decades of captivity in Strago's Tower, Tommy awoke in his bird cage to find the master necromancer gasping and holding onto his chest as he clawed through several vials searching for the right one; the one that would allow him to postpone his death due to age. Several flasks spilled onto the floor to shatter into tiny bits as the old necromancer finally found the right one. The dying mage fell onto his back as he struggled to lift the flask to his quivering pursed lips. The liquid finally found its way into Strago's mouth, but the mage continued to convulse and shake as his eye's went white. Grixen, Strago's little brownish-green imp servant, winked into existence as he watched his master squirm and writhe on the floor. Grixen croaked, "Finalleeez! I am freeez from the old foolish toad!" The imp continued beating it's wings as he hovered and danced over the dying necromancer while making a few absurd gestures.
The imp's celebratory mood was cut short as Strago's mangled old claw of a hand wrapped around Grixen's neck to strangle and shock the poor beast at the same time. Strago's eyes returned to their dull pale blue hue as he sat up from the floor still clutching Grixen around the throat. The imp's tiny legs kicked and flailed as it searched for a reprieve. Grixen was still twitching from Strago's shocking hand spell as the old man boomed in a voice much too loud for his own fail body to produce naturaly, "Oh no little mane sucker, Strago Montabara is still very much alive!" The necromancer took a few moments to find the strength to stand as he finally let go of Grixen's neck. The small imp tumbled out of Strago's hand and fell limp upon the ground still steaming from the prolonged electrocution session. The malinged necromancer took a few heavy steps that brought him closer to Tommy's cage. The frighten hin locked inside stared back at Strago with two little black beady eyes.
Strago's breathing was heavy and labored as he stated flatly to Tommy, "lucky you for you my little sparrow, I now offer you an opportunity of a lifetime. You shall be my new lab assistant." Strago fished for a key to unlock Tommy's cage before turning to leave the study chamber. The necromancer neared the doorway that led to more stairs heading down into the lower floors of the complex as he stated without emotion, "your first task is to clean up this mess and toss out the garbage. After you are done with that, you will meet me downstairs in the workshop. Do you understand?" Tommy nodded as Strago continued dryly, "You are being given a more promising future than you deserve. Do not disappoint me." The old necromancer studied Grixen with a look of utter annoyance on his features as left the chamber. There were so many unanswered questions as Tommy now stood alone in the room still quivering while examining all the broken glass vials on the hard floor. The halfling's gaze finally settled upon an imp who was just starting to regain consciousness.
Grixen took a look at Tommy as the imp rubbed his head and squinted his eyes blurting out to the hin, "you better getzz back in your cage little hin beforzzz I beatzzz you silly." Grixen looked around for his tiny whip and reached over for it eagerly to give Tommy a thrashing. As the imp grasped the whip in his hand he swiveled his head back toward Tommy's direction and found a terrifying sight as a large foot came crashing down upon his head. Tommy kept stomping on the nearly unconscious imp as Grixen yelped while throwing his hands up in a futile defensive posture. Grixen was truly frighten, he had been beaten countless times before by Strago for disobeying him, but he knew he would survive each and every encounter. But as Tommy bludgeoned the imps scaley body with his heel, Grixen saw something very different in Tommy's usual terrified vacant stare; The imp saw vengeance and wraith brewing in Tommy's eyes. Grixen screamed and pleaded for mercy as he heard his own bones breaking underneath Tommy's rampaging foot.
Tommy was always frighten of Grixen from the many years of torment under his watch, but more importantly, Tommy was currently frighten of himself and the vile thoughts tearing at his conscious. Rage boiled in the hin as he felt his ears turning hot with pulsating blood. Tommy's stomach felt like butterflies were dancing in it as he let all the years of torment pour out and consolidate into the form of a large gushing river of emotion. Grixen was well past consciousness as he lay motionless upon the cold stone tiled floor. Tommy knelt down and kept hammering the imp's limp body with clenched fists as he teared up, the hin was too overwhelmed with all these long forgotten emotions to bare it. Feeling physically depleted by the whole ordeal, Tommy quickly picked up the imp gingerly by a broken wing hurled Grixen's shattered tiny body outside the tower window which hovered above the towers moat. Tommy looked out the window over the edge just as Grixen splashed into the water and sunk like a lead ball to the bottom.
Sadistic Opportunities
Several more decades would pass uneventfully while Tommy slaved for Strago as his personal lab assistant. Much of that time was spent assisting the master in his necromantic arts in the tower deep below. Tommy's typical tasks involved moving around dead bodies, fetching reagents, and assisting in the construction of powerful undead constructs. Tommy displayed an uncanny talent for the magical arts and seemed to be a natural. Strago started training his new "assistant" in the arcane arts having contemplated his own death due to the frail condition his human body was in. It would not be long before the old necromancer would succumb to death he thought. Strago was nearly 130 years old and was only alive by the grace of life lengthening elixirs. If he was to continue his necromantic studies eternally, Strago would need to complete the Ceremony of Endless Night; a ceremony designed to transform the old man into an immortal lich. And to complete the ritual, Strago would need a competent assistant to help until the transformation was complete.
The Ceremony of Endless Night required many complex and vile objectives to be completed. Strago's failing health did not allow him the luxury of gathering all the various ingredients, so he offered Tommy a deal that his servitude would end after the Ceremony of Endless Night was completed. Strago wanted to properly incentive the halfling to ensure the objectives were completed. The maligned necromancer sent Tommy out to perform all the various jobs that did not require his direct hand. Tommy was sent to specifically gather up the following components:
The Distilled Water of Unlife
The Torch of Souls
Blood of the Innocents
Heart of Darkness
While Tommy was busy with those reagents, Strago the Maligned set out to prepare The Herbs of Unlife.
To create the Distilled Water of Unlife for the ritual, water must be gathered from a pool in which a corpse has been rotting in it for seven days. The ritual notes from Strago's research called for the corpse of a young innocent person which was at least half of Strago's age. After seven days, the body would need to be animated in a Desecrated or Unhallowed ground and then have the water collected for the ritual. Tommy was dispatched to a remote fishing village of Kievlar in the Trielta Hills to find a suitable candidate for the sacrificial ritual.
Innocence Lost
As Tommy scouted out the small quaint town of Kievlar from a distance, he spied a young human woman of no more than twenty years wandering through the tall grassy field just outside of town picking various flowers and placing them into her straw basket. The young woman was beautiful and a magnificent sight to behold for Tommy who hadn't seen a woman in literally decades. The field maiden's dark brunette locks and amber colored eyes held Tommy in a trance. "How can something be so beautiful," he wondered aloud as he moved in closer to her position from his current place fifty yards out.
Tommy crept slowly and deliberately through the tall grass thoroughly entranced by the maiden's smell. Oh her scent was so sweet Tommy thought to himself, his emotions where churning violently inside his head as his heart sank. The maiden was so beautiful that it tore at Tommy's conscious. The confused hin wondered to himself if he could ever be loved by such a delicate creature. At ten yards away from the maiden, Tommy sat in a clump of thick tall grass just studying the maiden; watching her ever graceful feminine movements. The reluctant apprentice's thoughts were far from the immediate mission at hand. Tommy had to take the life of an innocent, the thought disgusted him at his core. But what was he to do? What authority could he appeal to? Tommy wished very much to be loosen from the very real shackles that bound him to old necromancer. But Strago was all too cunning, his spies were too far reaching, and the amount of resources at his disposal seemed virtually unlimited. If Tommy was to finally be free of the necromancer, he'd have assist Strago with the ritual and just hope the old crone would be too consumed with his new found power that he'd have no more use in keeping Tommy around.
The fair maiden was not his target, Tommy figured he could mitigate his crime a bit if he just picked an elderly target who might die in a few winters anyway. "I'd just be speeding up that process a few years right?" Tommy thought to himself. Anyone in the human village who was more seasoned in years had to still be half Strago's age. That decrepit mage should have been dead long ago if not for the elixirs. The thoughts of the hin's ordeal swiftly left his mind as quickly as they came when Tommy heard a shrieking scream. Tommy regained his senses having been jolted out of his silent contemplations when he saw that the fair maiden was staring at him quite clearly.
The brunette woman must have dropped her basket of flowers during her fright. Tommy was no sight for sore eyes either, the hin was dressed up in what amounted to more than old dirty rags and worn weathered boots. Tommy's hair was unkempt, and he face was caked in soot. The necromancers reluctant assistant had rarely known the luxury of a bath since his childhood years. Tommy tried desperately to calm the maiden down by raising a finger to his lips and whispering with desperation, "shhhh, I don't mean you any harm Ma' Lady." This seemed to only frighten the young maiden even more as she screamed once again and started running back toward the village. Tommy could see a few villagers off in the distance looking around the field trying to locate where the scream was coming from and he panicked.
Tommy ran to catch up the the stumbling woman as she attempted to scrambled away and tackled her to the ground. "No! Shhhh! Please, you don't understand I..." Tommy's pleas for silence were met with a bite to his gloved index finger as he tried to muffle the woman's mouth. The maiden kicked a few more times and was able to stand up but was tackled again as Tommy dove on her. Tommy sat on top of the young woman's chest and he pressed hard down hard on her mouth and nose in attempt to quiet her. In the far distance near the edge of the village, the halfling could hear some of the fishermen shouting, "Melinda!? Where are you?!" Tommy's mind was racing, "why won't she just be quiet?! Just shut up will ya?!" the hin thought to himself.
Tommy pressed harder and harder as Melinda thrashed around relentlessly trying to find her breath. The maiden's outstretched hands tried to claw at Tommy's face creating deep scratch marks but her movements started to die down and she soon went limp. "Finally ye quiet down," Tommy whispered harshly to himself more than anyone else as he lifted his hands off the woman's mouth and nose. Tommy began to reach for a bit of cloth to make a proper gag but went into shock when he realized what he had just done. Tommy futility tried to raise the young woman to consciousness as he smacked her cheeks. "Wait! No! Wake up! Come on lass! I didn't mean to..." Melinda's vacant stare to the sun-kissed sky was her only response. Tommy cried to himself, "No! No! This isn't the way it was supposed to be! Please! Wakeup! No! This just can't be..." Tommy slide off Melinda whom he was straddling and curled up into a ball as he rocked back and forth scolding himself, "stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" Tommy's heart sank as he stared at the beautiful woman. Melinda's beautiful features were sharply contrasted with the trickle of blood trailing out of one of her delicate nostrils.
The shouts for Melinda grew louder and were approaching swiftly. Tommy wiped away a tear as he scrambled back toward the woman to clutch her in his arms. The apprentice recited the words to a teleportation spell just as five fishermen came into view. The five men yelled, "stop!" and rushed forward to grab the hin but were only met with a dazzling flash of light. The men squinted and rubbed their eyes to find both Melinda and the dirty little hin where nowhere to be seen.
A flash of light greeted the old necromancer as he sat upon a large black ornate throne in the towers audience chamber. Soon two forms appeared as Tommy sat next to the dead maiden still clutched in his arms, Tommy's expression was one of shock as he slowly raised his head to meet Strago Montabara's stare. "She will do, strip her down and place her into the dark pool for preparation," the aged necromancer said flatly. Tommy's eyes narrowed in anger as he gazed upon the disgusting cadaverous figure of Strago. A few long moments later, Tommy looked back down to Melinda body as he stood up from her. Strangely he felt nothing anymore. Not remorse, not vengeance, nor pity crossed the halfling's mind as he bent down to pick Melinda's limp body up and haul it over one of his shoulders. The apprentice turned away from the master without a word and made his way down the staircase, past Grubar's noisy cell, and into the laboratory where the dark pool was just recently constructed.
The pool's water looked pristine against the obsidian colored stone lining. Tommy gingerly laid the woman's body down and undressed her. The halfling assassin closed Melinda's eyelids and gazed upon her once more before pushing the corpse off into the pool and walking away silently. Tommy tried many times justify his actions over the next few days during his silent contemplations. "Melinda's death was Strago's fault. No! This whole world was corrupt," Tommy thought himself. So many years had passed since the hin first thought he'd get his very own visit inside Grobnar's maw of gnashing teeth. "I was supposed to be dead, and yet here I remain alive and well enough to take the lives of others. How much more tragic irony must I now endure?"
Tommy came to the realization from his storm of thoughts that this was a cruel world he found himself an inhabitant of. Only those willing to take life freely and without conscious seemed win in the end. "I shall no longer carry the burden of sin. No!" Tommy continued to think, "the responsibility for the vileness of the world rests with the bastard gods and their ilk, they are responsible for the crimes committed against me and all others. They made me into the killer I am, not Strago. If anything," Tommy reasoned, "Strago has a much better perspective of the world doesn't he Tommy? Doesn't the cruel bastard get what he wants every time?" And why Tommy thought to himself? "Because the gods allow such wickedness to prevail. Perhaps they get a thrill out of seeing their subjects writhe in unnecessary pain and misery. Where were these just gods when Strago destroyed my village? Where were these blasted gods to reward the good and punish the wicked? If the world works this way, what does this say about the gods? I shall give none of them my loyalty nor worship at their feet like some groveling dupe. Ta hells with the gods I say! From now on, Tommy takes what Tommy wants. If its killed or be killed, I shall bide my time until the perfect time arises to strike down my enemies, and anyone else who gets in my way. I am not evil, the whole world is evil..."
The Quest for Lichdom Begins Anew
Tommy set out to collect the remaining victims for the ritual with a healthy amount of renewed determination. Tommy was working for his freedom, and he was going to be damned if anything, or anyone, was going to try and stop him. There was no more hesitancy in Tommy actions. From then on, the hin killed or captured his victims without remorse. Killing was the halfling's new trade and someone had to do it. "Better you than me," became Tommy's life motto. From village of Triel, Tommy was able to subdue and capture a paladin named Eric Ronus for the Torch of Souls which called for the soul of a pure hearted individual to be trapped inside a soul gem. The hin assassin then went on to capture the mayor's son, Reggie, from the village of Kievlar for the Heart of Darkness. The still beating heart would need to be removed in a sunless environment and placed into a Magic Box of Repose Death in order to keep it fresh for the ritual. Acquiring a proper subject for the Blood of Innocents was Tommy's final task. The Halfling assassin captured a human priest of Ilmater from Triel, Issac Darius, who was renowned for his compassion toward the poor and maimed. The Blood of Innocents called for the captured priest of Ilmater, one pure of heart, to be ritually sacrificed and then have a cupful of blood extracted from the deceased corpse.
As Tommy brought the victims in, Strago prepared the various reagents according to how the necromancer's research notes dictated he should. Melinda's body had been rotting in the pool Tommy left her in for seven days. Melinda's body was then reanimated within the Unhallowed chamber by Strago himself as the necromancer took a sample of the Distilled Water of Unlife to store in a vial for later use. All the reagents for the ritual were now prepared with the exception of the Herbs of Unlife. The herbs in question needed to be obtained from the grave of a good person with great importance. After a few weeks in the coffin, the herbs will grow and need to be picked to later on add them a potion during the Ceremony of Endless Night. Strago had long contemplated who would make the perfect candidate for this ritual. As far as the Master of Death was concerned, the best candidate was not only one meeting the qualifications that the ritual called for, but one who was an arch nemesis of Strago's. The old calculating necromancer figured he might as well kill two birds with one stone.
The Final Ingredient
A gnome named, Brikas Merlen, was a very wealthy merchant of Waukeen and was known for his benevolence, inventions, and scholarly works. Brikas had been blessed with a vast amount of wealth when a large vein of gold was discovered near the town of Salt Springs in the Trielta Hills. The gnome used this cache of gold, along with his formidable merchant skills, to create a Utopic village for his clan. The old sage had always been a thorn in Strago's side and was the only check against the necromancer's nefarious plans to expand his reach further into the Trielta Hills. The gnome raised a formidable mercenary group and coordinated with the surrounding halfling and gnomish settlements to defend the central and eastern parts of the hills from Strago Montabara's ever encroaching army of undead minions and assorted goblinoid races. The inventive gnome had secured a peaceful existence for all in the guarded territories for the past three years without incident and was praised by almost all.
Brikas was being exhorted by his seven hand picked guards along with Jezu Yeros, the archmage, as they neared the settlement of Salt Springs. This emissary group just got back from a tour between various settlements in the Central Trielta Hills. The town of Salt Springs was settled around sixty years ago and got it's name from the noticeable salt deposits in the area that also were a trade commodity. The clever old sage stroked his fine long curved beard as his small legs carried him inside the Burgomaster building which was modest in size considering Brikas's vast amount of wealth. The side of the structure however was lined to the brim with eccentric machines and various lab equipment throughout. The complex had a hallway that ran the length of the building with several doors on either side leading to more private quarters. A clay golem stood silently beside Brikas's bedroom chamber as the old sage entered it. Brikas gave the clay golem a pat on one of its legs but the silent automation did not even register the touch and stared straight ahead as if it was looking for some unseen danger. Brikas looked around his bedroom chamber as he unconsciously flicked one of the weighted balls in a row attached to a delicate rod. The balls kept hitting each other back and forth conserving their momentum with each impact and making "clack! clack! clack!" noises as old gnome gazed at his fluffy comfortable bed whispering to himself, "Never has this old man seen such a sight for sore eyes."
Grixen waved his hands in the air with frantic anger while screaming in a high pitched voice, "Howzzz you come back empty handed you pathetic halfling slime!" The young halfling who was dressed in rags cowered on his knees and bowed his head to the floor as he dared to speak, "please Lord Grixen, I tired to sell the stock but we are running out of addicts in town and more are dying everyday. Gullykin's town council has been cracking down on it's distribution, I can't find a place to push our black lotus extract without the councils spies in our business." Grixen, who was never known for being a very understanding type, snapped up his cat o nine whip off his tiny leather belt. The imp drew the whip back and flung it forward as the small metallic teeth of the wicked weapon dug into the drug pushing halfling's backside. The whip was coated in Grixen's own poisonous body secretions, and that substance worked it's way though the groveling halflings blood causing his muscles to spasm and lockup. The imp was still hovering over the frighten and partially paralyzed halfling whipping him without remorse as tiny blood droplets sprayed the imp's face. Several more lashes followed the first and the imp had no intention of stopping short of the halflings death. The imp reared back to deliver another nasty lash but his whip wouldn't budge this time. Grixen pulled on the whip a few times and then finally looked behind him to see what it was stuck to. Grixen eyes went wide as a all too familiar voice whispered, "greetings once again old friend."
Grixen was still in shock as Tommy reared back and decked the small imp to send the eight pound creature flying into the opposite wall in the small dirty old shack that served as Grixen's base of illicit operations. "I was wonderin' how ye was doing, ye have ta know we been missin' ya right?" As Tommy continued speaking as he pulled a wand off his belt and aimed it at the dizzy imp speaking a activation word. The wand flared up as green ray struck the imp who barely had enough sense about him to attempt to use his innate teleportation ability. A dizzying flash of light filled the room followed soon by a fizzling sound. Grixen opened his eyes and fully expected to be far away from the disastrous situation he found himself in, but the cold reality that materialized before him was a halfling staring at him. Tommy was now wearing a new fine wide brimmed hat when Grixen replied in a sheepish high pitched voice, "I likezzz the new look..."
Tommy teased, "ello mane sucker, now ya have ta know it's not very proper ta run out on ye friends like that right?" Tommy backhanded the imp twice rapidly, the halfling assassin was obviously under the effects of a haste spell and the imp's already blurry vision didn't even register the movement of the assaulting hand. The mangy imp cried out, "Youzzz tried to kill mezzz! I ran awayzzz because I'm scaredzzz! Please leavezzz me be! Youzzz are more powerful now, I admitzzz. What youzzz wants with Grixen nowzz!?" Tommy grabbed Grixen by the ear with a gloved hand and pulled the tiny creatures ear to his lips as he whispered, "ye goin' ta' help me break Brikas's wards. Ye goin' ta' be a good mate and show me exactly where he likes ta put all his lil' booby traps and alarms. And ta' make sure ye don't go findin' someway out of our arrangement, I'm placin' a geas on ya." Another flash of brilliant colors greeted the imp as he faded off into unconsciousness.
It was a peaceful night around the small settlement of Salt Springs as the residents started to drift off into their comfy feathered beds. The old sage, Brikas, was sound asleep on his backside still wearing his spectacles. The old sage had a bad habit of sleeping with his glasses on which created noticeable deep pits on either side of his nostrils. The counter weights that were pushed earlier were still filling the old gnomes bedroom chamber with "click clack" sounds. Brikas awoke suddenly from his stupor and was jolted into a sitting position as a flash of light filled his bedroom chamber. Multiple figures appeared in the room including an imp, a strange halfling wearing a wide brimmed hat, nefarious looking warriors with glowing eyes and fangs, and finally the gnome's arch nemesis, Strago Montabara in the flesh. Out of the sages immediate sight, the Halfling turned to flick a pea sized glowing ball underneath the door leading to Brikas's bedroom chambers.
The old necromancer leaned heavily on his staff as he greeted the old sage, "You are probably wondering how we were able to slip past your magical wards hm? Seems some years back some of your men caught one of my spies while he was shapeshifted," Strago pointed toward the imp, "he was scouting and learned of the enchanted devices you keep around to ward off teleportation." Strago continued, "with that knowledge, my apprentice here was able to locate and dispel all those barriers your pathetic archmage put up." The old sage adjusted his spectacles as he gathered himself to reply, "so this is how it ends, killing an old gnome in his bed? I would have thought Strago the Maligned Necromancer would have only settled for total victory?" The old gnome reasoned, "By killing me, you will only further unite the good peoples against you and win nothing in return. You will gain no further territory or lands in this manner so why put yourself at such great risk?" Just as the sage finished, the doors to his bedroom chamber burst open as seven of Brikas's guardsmen filed in to surround the trespassers. One of the armed gnomes yelled, "Burgomaster! We heard the silent alarm and came as quickly as we could! Do not fear, we will deal with them!" The captain kept his polearm's pointy end aimed straight at one the vampire warriors and tensed up to strike but the gnomish sage held up his hand stating, "wait captain." The old sage adjusted his spectacles examining Strago more closely, "what is it you want Necromancer? Speak!"
Strago glanced to Tommy and Grixen saying, "I thought I made it perfectly clear to you I wanted all the security enchantments undone? Now this complicates matters." Tommy replied quickly, "He must o used some sort o personal device, all permanent enchantments were dispelled I assure ya." The Archmage of Salt Springs suddenly appeared in the room and raised his hands which were now burning with spellfire at the bold intruders, "just give me the word and I'll turn them into ash Burgomaster!" Brikas raised his hand once more to speak with his body guards, "steady! Steady!" The old sage adjusted his spectacles once more to better see his long time foe while stating matter of factly, "You have to know you can't possibly walk out of here alive necromancer." To articulate the priest's point, the sounds of many boots hitting the ground filled the hallway leading to the chamber. A murmur of gnomish voices could be heard that seemingly surrounded the complex outside. "Let us not break the long standing truce we've had over these recent years. Walk away and I promise you that we shall not retaliate in anyway. I do not wish for one single man of mine to die tonight unnecessarily. Do you yield villain?" Grixen the imp merely floated in the air looking down at the floor solemnly. Strago raised his old man claw of a hand, the tips of his fingers glowed a crimson red as he pointed them at the old sage. The gnomish body guards in the room seemed to tense up all of a sudden with the captain yelling at Strago to stand down.
Strago spoke, "I've come too far to let this opportunity escape my reach. I don't want your pathetic town you cantrip casting sop, I want you for a much more devious purpose than you could ever imagine sage." Strago sneered as Tommy suddenly broke into the conversation, "or we could just go with plan B." Strago looked confused for a moment looking curiously at the halfling assassin as he replied, "Oh? whats plan..." All of a sudden, the entire hallway and bedroom chamber erupted with a glowing red flash of light as searing hot magical flames filled the area. A few scores of Gnomish guardsmen writhed in pain as they were literally cooked inside their heat conducting metal armor. The flames in the room licked and spat at the dark intruders but none of the old necromancer's allies seemed to be affected by it one bit. Neither was the gnomish Archmage, Jezu, accosted by the flames as they seemed to bounce off some spherical and invisible magical barrier surrounding him. The Arch Mage of Salt Springs finished the incantation of a spell as a spectral hand wrapped around Strago pinning his arms to his sides and squeezing him mercilessly. Tommy retaliated instantly with his own spell as the magical barrier surrounding the Archmage fizzled out. Tommy continued chanting and quickly followed the first spell with a swarm of magical missiles that slammed into Jezu's body and tore at his fine silk robes. The Arch Mage's fine clothing was turned into a blood-red sloppy mixture of flesh and clothing. Jezu Yeros fell backwards stiff as board and breathed no more while staring blankly at the ceiling. The spectral hand that held Strago dissipated with the Archmage's death and thus the necromancer regained his mobility back.
"So, that's why you insisted we all go warded against fire; very clever Bones," Strago breathed still trying to catch his breath. Strago finally looked up to see Brikas dangling in the air as his legs kicked around frantically. A vampire on each side of the old sage held one of his arms to keep the gnomish sage in place. The gnome was wearing some sort of ring of fire resistance on his pinky that still was smoking. The gnomish sage's clothes looked a bit singed, but otherwise he remained untouched by Tommy's delayed fireball spell. Strago pointed a boney hand at Brikas once again all the while sneering at him as the necromancer strode forward. Strago chanted, “Bhaal awaits thee, Bhaal embraces thee, none escape Bhaal!” The decrepit necromancers outstretched fingertips flashed with a faint red aura; witnesses claimed they heard the gnomish sage's screams throughout the settlement.
Betrayal
Tommy eyes widen upon looking at the tome. His index finger ran across the same words over and over as if he couldn't believe what he was reading. Grixen hovered next to Tommy, his wings beating in the air like a humming bird. Tommy finally took his eyes off the passage and handed to tome over to Grixen. The small imp asked, "Did youzzz see anything boss?" Tommy simply shook his head and replied, "what I should have known all along, ye still under my spell imp so I want ya' to place the book back exactly where ya' found it. After that, await my further orders. Got it chum?" Grixen bobbed his head up and down before winking out of thin air. Tommy stroked his newly grown goatee murmuring to himself, "I got a few things I need ta weigh here..."
Strago stood in the cellar workshop over the lid of an open sarcophagus as he reached down to pluck the Herbs of Unlife growing within. Brikas Merlen, the once regal looking gnomish sage was but a shell of his former self; a rotting carcass. It had been roughly a four weeks since Strago and his cohorts raided and escaped the village of Salt Springs with the old sage in tow. The final ingredient was now in the maligned necromancer's hands as he smiled sheepishly. Strago stepped onto a floating disc that carried him upstairs into the audience chamber of his tower. The floating disc stopped in front of Strago's throne as he gingerly stepped off it while pulling up his black robes with his hands in doing so. Two armored vampires were always standing right next to the master's throne on either side were Strago just now took his seat. The necromancer looked to the vampiric guard on his left and ordered, "bring Lord Bones to me."
The Ceremony of Endless Night
The sight of the Bittertree massacre was the planned staging ground for the vile ceremony that would transform Strago into an immortal lich. This was the desecrated place where the aged necromancer many years ago razed a whole halfing village save for his current assistant, Tommy. The vegetation of the land never did come back leaving behind corpses of trees for miles around. The ritual of Endless Nights called for the one seeking lichdom to perform the ceremony at the sight of any massacre. However, Strago's research suggested that a massacre of your own doing was a much safer option and would improve his chances to complete the ritual. Strago had spent the better part of a year preparing the phylactery that would house his immortal soul. All the reagents had been prepared and were stored for safe keeping in a place only the vile necromancer knew of. Strago had sent Tommy out to prepare the circle and set up the various equipment needed for the ceremony days before. Now all the crafty old man had to do was show up with the reagents and perform the ceremony.
At the prepared ceremonial circle, Strago had stationed four vampiric warlocks equidistant around the circumference of the large arcane symbol drawn upon the floor. The place of ritual was set underground in what used to be a huge grain bin. This basically was the only structure still standing that was large enough to accommodate the performance of the ceremony in secrecy. The warlocks were consumed in ritualistic chanting as they prayed for unholy blessings from Bhaal, the god of murder and the embodiment of death itself. A bit further out from the circle, stood four more undead warriors plated in dark armor and keeping silent vigil over their master. In the middle of the circle stood a grand alter carved out of black colored granite and surrounded by quite a few skull piles. A small cauldron was suspended above a magical fire that emanated from a crack in the soul gem that housed Eric Ronus's soul and burned an eerie bluish color. Consistent ethereal moans, that were only interrupted momentarily by muffled ghostly screams, added even more of an ominous ambiance to the ceremony. Suddenly, Tommy was seen being roughly exhorted into underground storage room by two more of the necromancers undead minions with his hands and feet tightly bound. The assassin passed by Strago within a few feet of the necromancer and futilely tried to attack him with his bound hands, "I hope ye choke on troll dung ye lying black hearted bastard!"
Tommy's undead exhorts shackled him to the alter by each appendage as he laid there cursing and thrashing around. Strago walked closer to the alter using his staff to assist him. The Maligned Necromancer gazed upon his former apprentice with his usual callousness attitude while adding, "oh my apprentice, who are you to give me lectures on being black hearted anyway? Wasn't your first target a mere field maiden?" Strago wagged his finger nonchalantly, "I did say I'd release you from your servitude after I had secured your assistance. I merely left out the part of "where" I was going to release you. Just so happens that your destination will be the afterlife after all...unless you prefer to serve me in undeath? I think you deserve that much Lord Bones."
Strago smiled slightly as he moved a mane of dull silver hair from his face. "Just think little halfling, soon you will be able to visit all your dead friends and family the next day upon midnight. I think you should be thanking me for allowing you the honor to partake in a ritual of such great importance. Tonight I am mortal my friend, but when the next moon rises, I shall achieve virtual immortality. With my death, I will be reborn anew to continue my research for as long as I please. The Trielta Hills will become my own personal kingdom soon afterwards. With no one left to check my power in the region, my unholy armies shall reign terror on any settlements who don't accept my terms. You should be honored to now know how your assistance will usher in a new era. A necropolis while be formed and dedicated to the Lord of the Forsaken."
Tommy stopped struggling and simply laid there upon the altar while looking up at the bare stone ceiling. The assassin without emotion replied, "Oi! Spare me da speech. I heard jus about enough of yer yappin' all these decades. So no! I ain't interested in being yer gods damned slave anymore!" Tommy turned his head and spit off to the side. "If ye thinkin' I'll be cryin' over my death, ye still don't know me very well chum. Livin' wit ye all these years has been torture enough, let alone servin' ya' as some sort o' undead thrall. Ye have made me quite immune ta' hope's embrace. At dis point, a nice ol death would be a great reprieve from havin' ta look at yer' ugly mug again."
The old necromancer smiled showing crooked and yellowed teeth as he retorted, "Oh I have had quite a long time to observe you little one. I made you who you are today. I gave you purpose and was more of a father than your sire ever could have been. What would you have been by the way had it not been for my intervening hand back so many decades ago? A cabbage farmer? No! Look what you have become, a father to a new empire. And I shall mark the significance of your sacrifice upon the grand temple doors dedicated to the Death Lord once it's built at the heart of the mighty necropolis. Your legacy shall live on forever. Just think of it Lord Bones." Tommy simply stared at the ceiling seemingly ignoring Strago's attempted mocking condolences to the Hin. Strago smiled crookedly once more and turned away from the hin as he made his way to the bubbling cauldron assisted by two of his vampiric servants.
All through the night and the following next day the warlock's chanting never stopped. Strago sat upon his makeshift throne thoroughly anxious for the time to come when he would need to finish brewing the Potion of Endless nights. Upon the twenty third hour of the ceremony, Strago was awaken by one of his servants to prepare the unholy concoction from the reagents gathered earlier by his current captive, Tommy Bones. The hin finally awoke from his poison induced slumber as he looked over the details of the room once more. The former grain bin still reeked of old mold, and spider webs clung to every corner of the stone walls. As Tommy's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit setting, his focus became more clear as he spied one of Strago's vampires holding an intricate object that had the shape of a hourglass. Tommy instantly recognized the object as Strogo's phylactery which was made of pure silver and studded with a large soul gem. Tommy's visual sweep of the room came to an end as he stared at Strogo holding a ceremonial dagger in one hand and saw his other hand scrawling down the page of a large tome which the assassin recognized as Strago's research notes. The potion that so many innocents were sacrificed to make was capped with a cork and stood on the table next to Strago's tome. After a few moments, Tommy's stare was met by the necromancer's own dull pale blue orbs. Strago said mockingly, "Welcome back Lord Bones."
Strago picked up the potion with his free hand and stalked over to the altar where Tommy was still chained to. Strago was looking obviously tired from the many hours of preparation and muttered weakly, "The time has finally come and the hour draws near, hin. Any last request this old man can fulfill for you? It's the least I can do." Tommy kept staring daggers at Strago the Maligned Necromancer and replied simply, "sure mate, bring back my father and mother and I will make sure yer death is all nice and swift. I could save ya' all the horrible agony ye about to go through." Strago was taken aback by Tommy's boldness and looked around a moment to see if the hin had somehow trapped the room or perhaps had secret allies. After a few moments the necromancy shook his head and laughed at his own paranoia as he added, "Are you sure you don't want me to remake you into my personal undead servant? I will truly miss your belligerently moody attitude." Strago smiled and continued, "Whatever happened to that small scared little boy locked up in his birdcage for so many years? You remember right? You still remember our little mental sessions don't you boy? You remember the Bittertree massacre more than anyone ever could. I used to pull those deeply hidden and painful memories from your subconscious and bring them to the surface for you to embrace. I did thoroughly enjoy watching you writhe in torment during those early years. what can I say?" Strago shrugged helplessly as he finished, "For so many years I only thought of you as nothing more than a late night meat snack for Grubar, but then that fateful day came to pass when Grixen had tried my already growing impatience with him. I took you under my wing and gave you a life worth living in service to my cause."
Tommy kept staring at Strago Montabara as the old man slowly walked around the altar. The halfling spoke, "so the ritual calls for yet another sacrifice, why not some other chum? Why put so much investment into me just ta waste it?" Strago stopped for a short moment, and then continued to pace around the altar replying, "because my research into this ritual led me to discover I would need one more additional sacrifice. I needed to give up someone whom I held most dear. Are you not flattered Lord Bones? You were my greatest creation to date." The halfling assassin did not seem too impressed at that moment. Strago continued, "It took you many years to fully develop your rare talents, but even longer to figure out why hm? Dragon blood courses through your blood, boy, however so minuscule it might be." Tommy replied, "Is this why I was the only one to survive the massacre? Ye somehow picked me out o' all those lil' hins ye butchered?" Strago answered matter-of-factly, "actually it was pure chance that led to you being left alive. My only command to my minions was to leave one child alive to replace the house servant I once had. Perhaps it was more than chance that brought you to my tower. Perhaps Lord Bhaal delayed your death and saw a much more useful purpose for you than anyone could have ever realized at the time. Destiny is a mysterious handmaiden for sure."
Tommy's serious stare down of Strago vanished and he immediately erupted into a strange laughing fit considering the dire circumstance he was now currently in. "destiny, now that is humorous ye old bag o bones. Some sky god picked me out o all dos lil hins ye butchered for the express purposes o usin' me as some sort o' sacrifice decades later? Come on chum, lets just get this over with so I can get back to my planned leave o absence. I tire o hearin about yer contrived divine meanins'." Strago seemed confused for a moment but then offered a smile as he commented, "seems you have finally cracked hin, but worry not, for I shall soon relieve your dementia." Strago raised his hands into the air clutching the potion and the ceremonial dagger in each as he loudly proclaimed a prayer to Bhaal, "Make all folk fear Bhaal. Let your killings be especially elegant, or grisly, or seem easy so that those observing them are awed or terrified. Tell folk that gold proffered can make the Lord of Murder overlook them for today."
The Hells Hath no Furry like the Scorn of a Hin
Strago lifted the potion of Endless Nights to his lips and imbibed the very foul concoction. The necromancer then dropped the emptied glass vial onto the ground as it smashed into tiny fine pieces that scattered about. Strago was still clutching the ceremonial dagger in his right hand as he chanted while looking to Tommy, “Bhaal awaits thee, Bhaal embraces thee, none escape Bhaal!” Strago steadied his hand and gripped the knife tightly as he stated flatly, "farewell my friend..." Strago suddenly turned his head and covered his eyes as a flash of light erupted in the room, Grixen appeared next to Grubar, the gigantic undead hill giant, who was obviously no longer bound. Grixen was holding what appeared to be a tiny wand that flashed suddenly after the imp spoke an arcane command, "shazzbot!" The locked shackles that held Tommy's hands and feet made a metallic clicking sound and fell free. Tommy immediately rolled to his side and off the altar on the opposite side of the necromancer while screaming, "Grubar, kill everyone in the room except me!" Grixen's eyes widened as Grubar raised a fleshy fist to crush him. Grixen looked to Tommy with surprise and shouted, "oh nozzz you don'tzzz, I finished my task and are no longer boundzzz to youzzz halfing! I'll see youzzz in da hellzzz soon enough!" The imp made an obscene gesture that involved his buttocks and winked out of existence just as a boulder sized fist crashed down on the imp's former location. Tommy still had his equipment strangely enough he thought. "Seems the necromancer felt so secure that he didn't even bother to take my belongings away," Tommy reasoned in his head. The Halfling assassin dug into his spell component pouch and began chanting the incantation to a spell.
Strago rubbed his eyes and was still in shock as he desperately shouted to his minions, "forget the giant beast, grab the halfing now! He must be sacrificed by my hand only! I can not allow this ceremony to fail, not while I am so close!" The vampiric guards immediately rushed from all four corners of the makeshift ceremonial room toward the assassin near the altar. Grubar moaned while turning toward the direction of the nearest warrior. The vampire raised it's great sword into the air as it swung at one of Grubar's legs to bury the blade deep into the rotted flesh of the monster's calf. The blade sunk so deeply into the flesh of Grubar's calf that it got stuck. The vampire tried out a few quick jerks on the blade but the steel would not budge free. Grubar's outstretched hands wrapped around the vampire warrior's midsection and lifted the bloodsucker into the air effortlessly. Grubar's deep rattling moan was soon followed by a metallic crunching sound as the behemoth crushed the vampire in his armor like it was a tin canister. The vampire attempted to scratch and claw the massive hill giant fists but it was a futile effort. The undead hill giant kept squeezing as it's interlocked hands came closer and closer together. The vamps bones finally gave out and broke creating a grotesque popping sound as Grubar dropped the pulverized vampire.
A flash of divine like sunlight filled the chamber as Tommy finished his casting. Hisses and screams filled the room as vampires burned away into fiery ashes while leaving behind only empty armor husks. The underground bunker was soon drenched in the putrid smell of burning flesh soon after. Grubar's entire body was also incinerated badly with steam rolling off his seared flesh. Tommy could no longer feel his connection to the massive undead beast that he had established some days prior with the help of a necromancy spell. The undead giant merely stood in place swaying side to side in a trance like state. Tommy kept a wary eye on the beast by using his peripheral vision while he focused on the hunched over necromancer. Tommy poked his head around the corner of the altar as the old man spoke, "how? How did..." Tommy cut him off short replying, "it was after we grabbed the old sage in Salt Springs." I got a bit curious about the ceremony so I had yer' backstabbin' sidekick slip past yer' wards and bring me the research notes. Ya really shouldn't trust anybody ye old bag." Tommy smiled slyly as he continued, "especially trusting a mangy imp to have access to yer' secret study so long ago."
To be continued...