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Across Troll's Bane mindlessly working, digging, and searching are corpses of the undead. Issuing from streams and crawling from mouths of wells they set themselves to work. Anyone walking the streets of Troll's Bane can see the byproduct of their work. Gaping holes scatter the open ground, stones are overturned, wood planks in the buildings are ripped up, and much of the town looks ransacked. Then there is the noise from underneath, where there is a swarm of undead excavating the sewers.

It was in the early morning just before sunrise that the excavation began. Starting in the underground tunnels of Troll's Bane. Undead workers poured from the shadows as the silhouette of a man crept along the stony corridor. He muttered orders in a whisper to his minions to search and find what his master wanted. His demeanor cold and emotionless as he swept over the workers like a warden over his prisoners.

Before long the ruckus coming from the clanks of pickaxes and shovels resonated unto the surface. It wouldn't take long for the inhabitants above to investigate. As the man was making his second pass along the underground corridor the curious inhabitants made their way down. At first they just passed by his workers without a second thought. Unfortunately, they returned moments later as the man was calling forth more workers to speed up the process.

The investigators followed the man in the shadows as he called for more undead workers, this being his third pass. The man slowly lead the investigators away from his excavation to keep them from interfering. He emerges from the shadows so they can get a better look at him.

Immediately recognizable was the gray cloak that covered his average sized body. Atop his head a closed face drow helmet was black as the night. Leather gloves and boots covered his extremities as he slowly walked away from the excavation. His pursuers finally caught up with him at an underground structure. They knew who he was and tried to reason with the man that there was no artifact to be found.

The truth was that he had orders and even if there was not an artifact buried somewhere in Troll's Bane he was still going to search. They could not understand such a concept, but who could blame them. All he did was stall them so his minions could continue their search. After a while it was time to go to the surface and continue there. Taking his cloak he tightly wrapped it around his frame and sunk back into the shadows vanishing to the surface to continue his work.

Summoning his powers tainted by ritual and sacrifice he called forth the resting dead to follow his command. He ordered them to work fast as the lightning began to strike calling attention to his hastiness. The thunder he hoped would mask some of the noise that would be made by further excavation. He knew he was not capable of fending off a full scale attack like the one at Caelum.

To give credit to his pursuers they found him once more quicker then he expected. They once again preached that there was not another artifact and that they in fact had some. On the inside he desired to torture each one of them until they gave him the artifacts. However, he knew better then to disobey the will of greater beings. He had is his orders and he was going to make sure he pleased his Father.

Luckily for him his pursuers were cocky and assured enough that there were no artifacts within the walls of Troll's Bane and nearly all departed. This gave him full reign over the city until others awoke. He mocked their boldness as he walked along the streets unimpeded. Laughing to himself but still able to control the undead with a mere wave of his hand. Before long it was time to report back and update the greater ones of his progress.

((Open RP))

Having finally decided to borrow the stable's donkey, playing tug with the stubborness of the animal, Achae was outside the city chopping wood when the lightning began. The air tingled with electrical currents as her eyes watered at the all consuming brightness of one strike after another. Fearful a tree would be hit next, she placed her hand on the donkey's reins trying to get him to hurry back to town. Even more stubborn and now eyes trailing one side and the other, braying at each strike, Achae thought she would never get him back yet finally with a deep sigh of relief returned him to the stable just as the lightning stopped. Resigned this just wasn't her day as she placed one log after the other in her depot, Achae casually glanced in the shop window immediately dropping one of the logs at the vision seen then turns forgetting to close the depot in her haste to find someone.

I must be seeing something? A mummy in the shop?

Speaking to Sssari without even a greeting first, she was slightly reassured that the undead seemed to be harmless yet whispers..

Take care of that beautiful child in your arms, sometimes harmless can turn...and there must be some purpose to them here, I hope not a sinister one.

Artimer watched them work, even though he was extremely tired due to the late hour, he watched them work from inside his house. When he finally was feeling up to it, he then walked through the town watching the man and his workers. He knew that in time one would approach. He was not blatently following though, he wandered as he did. As he walked though, he placed a parchment on the wall.


"Friends,

Be prepared, we have a grave situation on our hands. These zombies, should they continue their work, will cause our city to collapse from bellow. We must do something, and quickly. Should you see any zombies pick up an item of any sort, a weapon or trinket, take it. Do not attack them unless they become hostile as well, for everyone that falls another will rise."

With that being done, he watched and waited for the right chance.

The drizzling rain over Troll's Bane suited the landscape both poetically and visibly. The city was already partially ruined by the workers of the undead just a few days ago, and on top of that natures vengeance flooded the streets. Droplets of rain puddled into mud and overflowing streams as it fell from the sky. Clouds covered the sun preventing any type of relief from the flood waters and painted the perfect scene of depression.

If things couldn't get any worse for the city the overflowing waters began to ripple under the surface uncontrollably. This time not from the rain but creatures from the depths. Just as before but in greater numbers came the workers of the undead, pickaxes and shovels in hand. They swarmed the city in mere moments and started back at their work searching and ravaging as a result. This time they searched every locked building destroying anything that got in their way. The prison was the first to be searched and now lay open to any type of escape.

Unlike last time the inhabitants and visitors of Troll's Bane did not ignore the presence of the undead and slaughtered then by the hundreds. Lumps of rotten flesh and streams of blood covered the streets along with the tools of the workers. The rancid aroma of death polluted the air with a nauseating effect. The aftermath left the man in gray little choice but to reveal himself and hope for the same results as before.

The black smoke formed beside two of the mages that had just got done burning some workers into a pile of mush. The black smoke swirled for a moment before the man in gray was revealed to them. Thus began the conversation much as before, a technique used to keep them away from his working crew. Even the elfess from the first encounter stayed for a moment even though she was convinced that there was no object, thus, seemingly bored she eventually walked off.

If she only knew what she had in store for her would she be so cocky and confident, he loathed her. Come to find out most of the ones that attacked his workers did it out of sheer boredom. Avalyon was among them. Not knowing of his alliance because of his position he did not know if he could trust the Lord or not. He would have to find a way to pursue that matter while still following his orders.

His plan worked once more to keep everyone's attention off his workers as he did his best to keep calm. Surely, they would not attack not after witnessing them show little care whatsoever to his excavation. He pleaded to himself for something to be unearthed by his workers. He wanted the power and approval of his superiors by showing them he could do just what they ordered.

It burned within him to just destroy the city and leave it in chaos, but he knew that this approach would just prolong his search for an artifact. It was soon after thinking this that a strong tremor came through Troll's Bane. No doubt a result of the excavation, but the thought of finding something swept over his mind, he pleaded again. He focused himself back to the people standing around him to converse further. Eventually, he lulled the powerful ones into boredom and they departed. This would surely allow him to work much easier now that they were gone.

Once the capable ones left he decided to check on the source of the tremor in hopes that it would provide him what he desired.

She had been standing calmly for what seemed hours now, her clothing drenched and clinging to her skin from the rains that had begun once more. The absolute stench that stung her nostrils and clung to her skin despite the rivets of water was causing a vile reaction deep within the pit of her stomach. It was a sickening reminder, prodding at her pride and arrogance with the inescapable uselessness she was beginning to feel. Staring absently to the water that ran over her boots, stained a mild pink by blood, Ayla gave a frustrated and disgruntled sigh.

In the far reaches of her mind, she heard that sinister voice echoing back to her.

"Keep going about like you know everything, Ayla. Go about your business... Then, like I said, there are plans for you."

Like she knew everything. She knew nothing, in actuality. She knew nothing apart from the fact that stopping these disasters in the form of that man and his mummies was useless. They would tear Troll's Bane apart and there was absolutely nothing to stop them. Or at least that was how she saw it.

There are plans for you...

Grimacing openly, her nose wrinkling in the look, Ayla turned suddenly and began walking toward the eastern gate she had momentarily left. A hand dropped to her right side, where a sharp and searing pain ran down to her leg. Treading over the uneven cobblestone path with ignorance to the gouging wound in her side, she found herself back in the torn and broken city, the streets filled with remnants of the once dead. As she moved along the street, ignorant of those that greeted her here and there, she began placing things together in a sensical manner. This grey-cloaked man was so set on tearing the town apart that there must be something within the depths of all this chaos. And she had a budding fear behind her denial that if he did indeed find something, it would lead to something greater, worse.

Furrowing her brows suddenly, Ayla began pacing forward even faster through the streets. She could feel the wound at her side straining, a sting now becoming almost permanent where it rested but it went ignored again. She needed to find that man, or at least beat him to whatever he sought. The tremor that errupted beneath her only gave her a better resolve. She may be too late, but an attempt was necessary in the least.