The sound of running feet kept getting closer and closer to the group at the hilltop, after what felt like hours of the sound, a group of deer ran through the forest foliage, two columns and exactly 8 in total with 4 on each side and all connected to a sledge of some kind.
On the sledge was an elderly man, roughly as old as Galiard or just slightly younger by a few years, his hair and beard was wood brown and noticeably shorter than everyone there, perhaps as tall as Arsil and his clothes looked ruffled and damaged by the elements and life of seclusion in the forests for long times, his staff was similar to Galiard’s and on his shoulders, a squirrel and small bird of varying brown colours.
“Galiard! Thank goodness you’re here.” He said with a sigh of relief, stepping of his mode of transport and towards the old man. His voice nervous and wary. “I’m glad to see you and Illeya are safe. We must be quick; I don’t have much time.”
“Brunwisa…I thought I could sense your magic approaching.” Galiard responded, stepping closer to his good friend with a friendly yet wary smile on his face.
“What’s the problem?” Illeya asked, also now starting to become concerned.
“A sickness has been taking over my forests, coursing through the roots like a plague and driving animals away, and I found the source…’Wiccandun’.” He whispered that final word, like it was cursed or that he didn’t want to get someone’s attention, even though it was now early afternoon in an abandoned hilltop, once used by an old kingdom for scouting enemies far away, now nothing but ruins.
“Wiccandun? No-one has been there for many centuries, it hasn’t been resided in since the Battle of Twilight, perhaps before that even.” Galiard responded, like bringing up that cursed place was nothing more than paranoia.
“No Galiard, I have seen it for myself…Wiccandun is not as abandoned as we had once believed.” Brunwisa stated, his voice barely above a whisper like he was discussing a silly conspiracy that he genuinely believed in.
2 Days Earlier…
Brunwisa walked through the forests, many small forest creatures close as he walked though, each seemed to get more unnerved as he walked in the direction he was moving while making sure to stay close to him.
Burnwisa himself knew to remain calm as he approached this destination. It was why he wasn’t shaking, but as determined as he was to find out what was endangering his forests, he would be a liar if he said he wasn’t unnerved by the unspoken weight in the air.
Each step he walked, trees, bushes and the grass looked more and more decayed, rotted and dried out. The wildlife, apart from the woodland critters that followed him, got more and more scarce until there was basically none whatsoever, even the ones that were by his side gradually started to depart from him.
Finally, crossing the final amount of foliage, he reached the clearing and before him was the very place he was looking for, before him was a huge, abandoned fortress. It’s walls tall high like hills and black as the night sky, the undergrowth all over was rotted and decayed as the life and undeath that had once walked the building.
As he approached, the sound was filled with only his breath and footsteps, each sounded like a yell in silence as dreadful as this. Air thick with ancient darkness and expired death, Brunwisa knew the history of this cursed place. One of indescribable suffering, unknown powers of darkness and a terror that drove out life from everywhere nearby. To put it simply, anyone would be a complete fool to approach this place under any circumstances, even if it was abandoned, didn’t make it safe. He was no different, here he was walking into the foundations head-on, something no-ones done in centuries since it was taken from the Dark Lord’s forces not enough centuries ago, but he’s all too desperate to fix the land being slowly poisoned.
The courtyard was as lively as it had seemed from the outside, not even remotely. Everywhere were stairs, corridors and balcony’s, no restrictions to stop someone to fall and the stone seemed as old as the mountains they had came from. Although it was supposed to be mid to late spring, the air was as cold as the northern winter mountains.
Walking through the corridors and along the steps, he had a feeling of being watched, it was usually a warm and comforting feeling since he did live in the forest surrounded by woodland critters and herbivore animals, but now it felt as cold as the air this cursed land was practically made of.
Through each part of the building was another dark corridor or staircase that went up or down into who knows where. It was as depressing and dreary of a place it had looked from the outside to a point where no living thing had dared walked near, not even any kind of insect or other bug. The only living or undead creature in this place was Brunwisa and him alone.
Eventually, in one of the rooms, he found something he knew for a fact that wasn’t there before this building was abandoned, even if this was the very first time Brunwisa had ever looked around. In the centre of the dark room, was a black, obsidian black table of some kind and on it, a clear orb of that was transparent with a few lights that emitted from around it before quickly disappearing. It was a ‘Seer orb’, an extremely rare item that were connected to others in specific to make an encrypted communication network of sorts.
Before Brunwisa could approach it however, a ghostly figure came through from the other side of the rooms wall and flew towards him with a blade raised up, swinging towards Brunwisa’s neck. Despite this, he was able to block the attack and push it away with his staff. Taking the free moment, he had, Brunwisa ran through the corridors back towards the exit, he knew where to go to leave an evil place such as that one. Despite not turning around, he knew he was being followed, as he reached the gate in the courtyard, he turned around for a moment, just long enough to see what was behind him.
Through the corridor he came from had the same figure standing there, staring back at him with no effort to chase after, yet somehow, that wasn’t the worst part of it.
From other staircases, corridors and corners connected to the courtyard, other ghostly figures emerged, they all looked just like the first in nearly every way. They wore white robes that looked nearly identical to one another, comfortable and royal. Their hair styled and length varied but typically seemed to be head long and clean shaven. The worst part was the faces, gaunt and pale white like the rest of their forms, not a deathly pale from a human, but a pale white that matched clouds. Faces gaunt and almost rotted and expressions cruel and unlovely as they looked at his retreating figure, eyes nothing but pits of darkness that went on forever, on all their heads circlets of old noble lineage and blades in their hands that matched the same colour of their bodies. In total, there were seven watching as he left.
In the centre was he, the Lord of them, he was taller than the others, while all where 6’0 tall, he was somewhere between 6’2 to 6’4 and instead of a circlet on his head was a crown.
The Lord of the Zarumogol, the Wight King of Tazekdem, the Greatest of the Seven, he who tamed fear and made it from beast to weapon.
Zallak.
“I ran Galiard, I ran as fast as I could, I knew this was a great issue, but I had no knowledge it ran this deeply.” Brunwisa said, his voice tired and afraid.
“I see…so it seems that the enemy has returned after this time after all.” Galiard responded, thinking for a few moments before continuing. “it’s best you and I see this problem completed, as soon as we can.”
“I’ll prepare my things.” Illeya replied to his statement, standing up immediately.
“No Illeya, I want you to go with the White Lions, go to Sanctus and remain there in a few more months where I will meet you, if I do not return there as promised, I am likely dead.” He responded, following Brunwisa onto his sledge before riding off elsewhere.