Greetings and welcome to the prologue of Wars of the Free.
Before we begin, let's get a few things out of the way.

>What's this?
A new quest set in a high fantasy setting.
Or more accurately the intro of one meant to establish a few key concepts and set the tone before the proper quest.

>Are there/Will there be Chargen?
No

>Is this Isekai?
No

>Is this OC?
It's not set in an already established setting so kinda

>Grimdark?
No. Just fairly dark.
Expect to encounter the many wonders of the dark ages.

>Who are we?
You play as the graveguard Valen Morr.
A sort of mixture between a warrior monk, priest and grave digger in service of the Dead Gods Church
(At least for the duration of this thread)

>How does dice work?
Whenever you make a choice which implies the possibility of failure you roll 3d10.
I will consider the best of X amounts (typically 3 but you can increase or decrease the amount with your choices).
I will also specify the DC you have to hit and a Crit beyond that. Failing to meet either will result in a failure.
There are no Critical Failures but it's in your best interest to not fail many times in a row as the cost of failure will most likely increase.

>B-But I have other questions!
Then feel free to ask and I'll try my best to answer.
I usually check on the thread every 15 to 20 minutes.

>Other
Write-ins are ALWAYS (even if I forget to specify) an option and unless two contradict each other I'll try my best to incorporate them IF they don't break character too much.
Also since this is a role playing game do try to role play.
You may choose how you approach things however you wish but I ask you to at least try.

Have fun and good luck!

>>2634373
>You still have some work left from yesterday. Better take care of it

>>2634373
>You still have some work left from yesterday. Better take care of it

>>2634373
>>First things first: Breakfast

>>2634373
>You still have some work left from yesterday. Better take care of it

Work wins

>writing

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Grunting to yourself you began putting up the familiar feeling uniform of the graveguard.
A dark shirt worn under a long and stained leather coat, similarly designed brown pants and a pair of boots with steel platings.
And of course the most important part: A tall hat.

Though not intimidating by itself people have grown to fear this garb over the ages as it became synonymous with death.
Some people even go as far as to spread rumors about the outfit being stuck to the graveguard and for good reason.
Shoddy it may look but each attire is tailor made to fit the one using it without restricting his movements.

After finally looking like a proper guard you made your way to the heavy iron door barring your workshop.
The thick, treated leather apron and the beaked mask with the respirator awaited you where you left them.
Putting them on and grabbing a dried pair of safety gloves you made your way to the container.

You always hated leaving work for tomorrow but this time it was unavoidable as you had no way of accelerating the process.
Looking down into the metal box you smiled under your mask.
The beetles have finished their work.
Slowly opening up the glass roof of the container you carefully extracted the now clean bones one by one and lined them up on a gurney.
Before closing the box once more you made sure to sprinkle in some dried insects as a reward to your little aids.

Now came the most important part: The assembly.
Moving over to a large tub filled with bright green fluid you piled up the bones one by one before applying some of the liquid with a pipette and fusing them together.
With every digit and every bone taking shape as a neatly organized box you crowned your creation with the skull and reached for the silver coin reserved for it.
Gently touching one side of the silver to the acid you pressed it against the forehead of the skull and waited for the two to fuse together.

At long last...
Another dead can know peace.

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Inserting a meat hook into one of the eye sockets you carried your latest work towards the door.
As you took down the mask and the apron at the exit you caught a whiff of your workplace and felt really glad about getting some fresh flowers for the mask yesterday.
Making sure to close the iron door upon exiting you stepped out the front door and were greeted by the morning light...
And someone you didn't expect.

Standing just outside the gate of your fence was a peasant with a hand drawn carriage behind him.
At first he tries to greet you but as soon as he lays his eyes upon your outfit the words get stuck in his throat.
Slowly his eyes drift down to the pile of bones you grafted together and he turns visibly pale.
You always found this reaction of the common folk humorous but it can get quite annoying to deal with.

>Greet him and ask what he wants
>Ignore him for now and proceed to the catacombs
>Other? (write-in)

>>2634538
>Greet him and ask what he wants

>>2634538
>Greet him and ask what he wants

>>2634538
>>Greet him and ask what he wants

>writing

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Since the man seems to be completely lost somewhere between the Heavens and the Cosmos you decided to snap him back to reality.
"A good day to you."

Almost reflexively he reels back and he begins to mutter something to you.
"T-To you as well!
I-I-I... I've been looking for the local keeper-"

"Well you found him."

"I see that..."
The man fidgets around uncomfortably.
He doesn't even dare to look you in the eye, being content to stare at your boots as he speaks.
"You see Ser... my son-"

And as soon as he said that you began rolling your eyes in disbelief.
This is one of the reasons why you hate having to deal with the commoners of Midland.
It's always the same, no matter where you go.
Either they go off on these long winded speeches about how either they are too poor to afford your services or how their grief somehow makes elevates them above paying.

Selfish and greedy or perhaps simply irresponsible.
You truly hate these people.
For them to think they are above others, how their suffering means more.
Ludicrous.

All life is the same. Its value: 2 silver coins.
Responsible would start gathering money so they would have enough for a burial the moment they know they are expecting a child.
And indeed many people carry the same 2 silver coins with them their entire life, or if not it's the first thing they must acquire.
To kill someone and then steal his two silvers is the second most vile of sins only surpassed by refusing to hand over the money for the funeral of your loved ones.

You truly have no sympathy for these scum.
And that hatred of yours grows more and more as every single one of them come with the same sob story you heard a million times already.
So without showing much of a reaction you raise your hand and stop the peasant.

"Stop.
You know the rules."
You point at the coffer bolted to the front of your door.

"Ser... please! I beg of thee!
We are poorer than dirt ever since our lord increased the taxes!"
And as if he just lost hold of the last shred of sanity he had left the man breaks down crying.
How pathetic.
"I-I don't even have a cart Ser!
I had to grovel and beg to my lord so I could borrow one of his!"

You walk up to the man and place one hand on his shoulder.
Then once you got his attention point at the box.

He looks up at you with his eyes red from crying.
By the looks of things he was shedding genuine tears.
But it doesn't change a thing.

Reluctantly he puts one box in the coffer and hands the other one to you.
"I hope you choke on it!"
He says, his voice shaking with fury.

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You take his coin but you couldn't care less about his insults.
With his actions he has proven himself to be true human trash so his opinions matter little.
Placing down the remains in your hand gently on the ground you made your way to the cart and flipped over the hemp covering the body.

It was a young boy laying on his side. He couldn't have been more than fifteen years old. What a shame.
His skin was pale, a clear sign of blood pooling up in the lower parts of his body.
"Was he lying on his side when you found him?"

"Y-Yes Ser!"
He answers slowly, clearly shocked by your sudden change in attitude.

Touching the body in an attempt to roll it over shows you that his body is quite rigid.
He died recently. A little more than a day ago.
"Where did you find him?"

"H-He went missing two days ago.
And I... I found 'im dead in a ditch near Crowhall."

The time checks out... but something doesn't.
As you rolled the body over you did not see any area where his blood pooled up.
Looking over at the peasant it becomes painfully clear for you that you won't get any more information out of him as he's teetering on the brink of madness already.
So taking what you can get you spoke to the man once more.

"Rest assured.
Your sons spirit will be laid to rest.
Now my good man... please return to your work as I have to return to mine.
May you not need my services anytime soon."

Without saying a word the man grabbed hold of the carriages handles and turned back around.
He was definitely walking very slowly, perhaps the reality of the situation still hasn't settled down with him.
Maybe he believes this is all just a bad dream.
But you know for a fact that it isn't.

"Now...about that body..."

>It needs to be investigated
>First the one you are done with needs to be laid to rest
>Empty the coffer just in case
>Other? (write-in)

>>2634717

>It needs to be investigated

>>2634717
>First the one you are done with needs to be laid to rest
All lives held as equal, and all laid to rest in their time. It does not do to disturb the affairs of the dead with the affairs of the living.

>>2634717
>It needs to be investigated

Investigation go!

>writing

"All lives held as equal, and all laid to rest in their time. Do not disturb the affairs of the dead with the affairs of the living!"

The creed of the Dead Gods Church rings in your head as you contemplate what to do next.
But even though these teachings were drilled into your head for over a decade you can't help but have a bad feeling when you look at the corpse in front of you.
Perhaps only to calm down your own paranoia you decided to forego the years of training and rushed back inside with the bundle of bones in your hand.

Running back out with your gurney you quickly put the corpse onto it and rolled right back into your workshop.
Putting the safety measures back on you quickly reached for one of the cast iron lamps on the wall and inserted a fresh nugget of concentrated aether into it.
With the raw magic producing ample light for the upcoming procedure you could begin the examination.
The question was... how?

At first glance there is nothing wrong with the body.
However not only can't you see the cause of death on first glance but there is also the matter of the carcass not having any dark spots on it which would signal the blood pooling up.
Now your suspicion is all but confirmed.
There is definitely something wrong with this one.

Right now you are only hoping that it's NOT what you suspect it to be...

>Examine the skin thoroughly to find the cause of death
>Ignore standard procedure and open it up straight away
>Other? (write-in)

>>2634808
>Examine the skin thoroughly to find the cause of death

>>2634808
>Examine the skin thoroughly to find the cause of death

>>2634808
>Examine the skin thoroughly to find the cause of death

The result is obvious
Now please roll 3d10 to determine what you find

DC:10 Crit:16
Best of 3

>writing

Rolled 4, 7, 10 = 21 (3d10)

>>2634839

>>2634845
Ah...
Some things never change

Rolled 4, 7, 6 = 17 (3d10)

>>2634839

Rolled 1, 7, 9 = 17 (3d10)

>>2634839
I'm here.

The first thing that you must do is look over the body.
If the boy did not die naturally then the incident must've left a mark on him.

To start off you grabbed a large scissor off of your wall and removed every piece of clothing he had on him.
Throwing the rags aside for later use as kindling you began your examination.
Immediately you turned your attention to his most vital areas.
The neck and the chest showed no signs of damage.

The head however?
A small dent at the back of the skull and a larger one on the side.
Now you felt a little stupid for not noticing the hardened blood stuck in his hair but in your defense, the boy had pretty dark hair anyway.

It's a little too early to draw any conclusions but if you had to take a guess you'd say he tripped and hit the back of his head first.
Not a mortal wound by itself but enough to give him quite a concussion, after which he acquired his more grievous wound.
Once you removed the hair around the damaged areas you could also rule out murder as the wounds did not appear to come from a weapon.

But all of that knowledge paled in comparison to what you found a bit afterwards.
In truth you only stumbled upon it by accident when you moved his head around for the shaving but it might just be the most important piece of the puzzle.
Three dots in a triangle shape could be seen on his neck with a purple ring surrounding them.
The coloration was a result of some blood being stuck under his skin.

This was big as you have no knowledge of an animal leaving such marks on bodies.
And sadly it all but confirmed your worst fears.
Taking a deep breath you stepped away from the corpse for a moment.
Feeling your pulse increase a variety of thoughts rushed through your mind.

It was still possible that you were mistaken, that this is all just an unfortunate accident and you are looking for clues where there are none...
But the fact that you MIGHT be right means you MUST take action immediately.

Using a mental discipline you were taught at the clergy you forcibly calm yourself now.
Things became much clearer for you.
The boy died in an accident, that much is certain and someone just so happened to stumble across his corpse.
Now all that mattered is who... or what was it that found him?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93vmIVzWb-M

At best... an overly eager blood mage who dared to desecrate a corpse in such a manner.
A grave offense for sure but... not one punishable by death. You'll have to capture it alive in that case.

But if you're not lucky...
It was a being most foul whose tracking down is your sworn duty.
A necromancer.

And the worst case scenario?
Well... you'd rather not think about that.

Quickly you lowered the corpse into the beetles embrace and you dashed out of the workshop.
After making sure to lock everything down tighter than a nuns chastity belt you made your way to the armory.
Looking over the plethora of weapons and chemicals at your disposal you began your preparations.

>>2634930
really liking it man, can't really post right now but I intend to follow this,I hope you stick around

>>2634954
of course my dude

And if you can count on anything it's my tenacity.
For I loathe leaving things unfinished

>>2634959
Gotta keep in mind Spooky the timezone difference really fucks you over sometimes, most of the people who use this are either working ass men who right now would be busy and NEETs who wont wake up for another few hours.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1KZ2XzTTIo

Replacing your regular belt with one that had many pouches and holsters affixed to it you began filling them up with whatever you could get your hands on.
Finding the space insufficient for your assortment of knives, potions, salves and reagents you threw another one over your shoulder and fastened it under your armpit.

Rows of throwing knives carefully balanced to be perfect for throwing and coated in a numbing poison.
A glass globe filled with a liquid that induces rapid clotting in case you encounter a blood mage.
Flasks of acid that can melt the flesh off of a mans bones.
An oily fluid in a bottle which catches on fire once exposed to air.
An iron syringe in case you need to inject yourself with one of your own concoctions.
A scalpel for blood letting.
A knife for carving flesh.
And last but not least... a snuff box. In case you fail in your mission.

By the time you were done you looked like you could kill a room full of people if your coat just so happened to get caught up in a door.
Finally you pulled up your mask to hide your face.
You were no longer the grave tender of this region.
You are a graveguard.
The vengeful agent of the Dead God.
Your mission: To track down those who defile these sacred corpses.
Be it necromancer or culter... or worse.

Walking to the door you laid your eyes open the two most important tools of your trade.
And the signature weapons of the guard: The pickaxe and the shovel.
These are the tools that help to lay the dead to rest.

>Pick the shovel
>Take the pickaxe
>Both
>Other? (write-in)

>>2634970
I know...
But if I can help it I'd rather not run at 3 AM.
I might do it a few times but I'd rather not make it routine

>>2634977
>Both
I'm not sure I see the significance here of picking one but not the other, or any benefit to doing so.

>>2634977
>Both
Having a backup weapon never hurts.

>>2634977
>stick of dynamite
fine
>Both

>>2634988
it's mostly for style but...

Shovel is good against zombies
Pickaxe = Skeletons
Carrying both is cumbersome

>>2634977
>Both

>>2635007
Why is a pickaxe not also good for zombies?

>>2635007
Sounds like a reason to get swole

>>2634977
>Pick the shovel
Assuming its a necromancer, they tend to be able to bring back zombies, not skeletons (sometimes).

>>2635015
Because mechanics and you cant decapitate a zombie with a piercing weapon.

>>2635015
Pick can easily get stuck in them.

>>2635034
Mechanics sure but you can still put a hole in it's brain.

But this is a decisive victory for picking both.

Now...
Please roll 3d10 once more for tracking
Best of 3
DC: 13 Crit: 17

>writing

Rolled 7, 8, 5 = 20 (3d10)

>>2635045

>>2635045

>>2635034
Actually, a zombie head would still be able to bite because the brain remained untouched if you decapitated it. A pickaxe in the head would hurt the brain more, so it would actually be more effective.

But mechanics i guess

>>2635040
>>2635034

They are not movie zombies.
Taking out the head doesn't insta kill them

>>2635045
Will it work this time?

Rolled 8, 9, 6 = 23 (3d10)

>>2635045

Rolled 3, 2, 7 = 12 (3d10)

>>2635045
Rollan.

In hindsight, maybe we should have used the write-in option to go full Bloodborne with our arsenal.

>>2635054
Write 'dice+3d10' into the options field
Without the quotation marks of course

Rolled 1, 3, 3 = 7 (3d10)

>>2635047
>>2635054
Well my phone is being dumb today.

>>2635057
this to be honest

>>2635059
>>2635061
Apparently having the D capitalized messes it up. And I'm not rolling again anyways.

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>>2635057
i also like bloodborne,but ...

>>2635071
Do NOT disrespect the wheel.

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>>2635071
>>2635074

>>2635071
I'm sorry, are you saying that you dislike the idea of fighting off hordes of zombies with a handheld wagon wheel and giant pizza cutter?

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2llS87avh2w

You step outside into the light and close every lock you have on your doors.
Once you are sure that your home and the mausoleum are both secure you leave your little haven and start walking along the road.
The peasant said "in a ditch near Crowhall" but that doesn't help you out too much.

You might not be well versed when it comes to the towns in your jurisdiction but even you know that if the place has more than one road leading to it then this might take a long time.
Luckily for you there is something which makes your job a tad bit easier.
Recalling the past two days you can clearly remember that there was a rather large storm two days ago.
And the peasant did mention how they are so poor they don't even have a cart of their own.

Once you had Crowhall in viewing distance you crouched down and started checking for footprints that were 2 days old.
The footprints needed to be small and left by a pointed shoe.
Also you can rule out any set of prints that happen to have cart trails or hoof marks next to or behind them.
And so your job turned from impossible to actually rather easy.

True you didn't find the place immediately and so you had to pass through the town itself which earned more than a few concerned glances from the villagers.
But on the second one you rather quickly found what you were looking for.
A set of footprints left by the boy, carrying something heavy.
If you remember correctly the town has a well which has drinkable water.
He was probably sent to fetch some.
Poor lad.

Following the trail you shortly stumbled upon what you were looking for.
The place of death.
And just at first glance you could see the unfortunate end of the boys life unfold before you.

"A rather large hole..."
You knelt down.
"Boy slipped on the mud."
You look around a bit and spot a larger rock jutting out of the earth.
Reaching for a vile on your belt you begin shaking it and pour a few drops of it onto the stone.
Once it was under the shade of your arm the rock began glowing faintly.

"He fell backwards and hit his head."
You look to the side and saw a set of handprints.
"He tried to get up...
Couldn't get far."

Looking to the side you saw the titular ditch and a roughly child sized patch of grass which was trampled and another rock that is still a bit bloody.
Your heart sunk into your stomach as you imagined the scene.
He was no doubt begging for help as he was bleeding out.

Slowly you entwined your fingers and gave him a quick prayer.
He'll be with the Dead God soon enough.
"But at least he wasn't murdered..."

>>2635088

I concede , couldn't find any argument agains yours word of wisdom

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But that still leaves the matter of the mysterious individual who drained his blood.
By the looks of things he just so happened to get stumble upon the boy and saw an opportunity.

Raising the bottle you still held onto you sprinkle its contents all around you in one motion.
Like morning dew it glistens on the grass around you.
And your eyes might not be 'special' but you know what to look for and you were well trained.
The trail you must follow... shines just a tad bit brighter than everything else.

It points towards the direction of the nearby forest.
Of course now it seems obvious.
But you had to make sure.

You followed the trail.
Once you knew where to go it was easy to find signs of the one you hunted.
A broken branch here, a footprint there.
He wasn't worried someone would find out about him. He was sloppy.

But once you felt that the trail was growing ever so hotter you had to stop in your tracks for two reasons.
First, it was the stench. A smell you were quite familiar with has invaded your mind and gnawed on your memories without remorse.
You knew that smell... the stench of death and decay. Corpses.

You couldn't help but let out a smile.
"A necromancer!"
Though they posed a threat beyond description, these renegades who performed one of the unforgivable crimes were a threat... that you were specifically designed to eradicate.
And now that you could rest easy that you won't have to deal with a demon or possibly something worse your nervousness got replaced with excitement.

But there was still that other issue.
A thicket stood in your way.
Trees that were unnaturally thick and dark, sprouting thorny vines that made passage all but impossible.
You looked behind yourself and saw the sharp contrast that these trees had with their kin.
They were old... much older than the rest of the forest.
Their roots probably reach quite far down... and struck a source of aether.

"A corrupted forest.
Quite a hiding spot for a necromancer...
And a good source of magic..."

Whether it was intentional or just luck this scum of the earth found itself quite a hiding place.
Getting in will be quite a task. But you have a few options.

>There must be a passage that he uses...
>I'll just have to cut my way through
>Burn it to the ground and pray it consumes the necromancer
>Other? (write-in)

>>2635206
>There must be a passage that he uses...

>>2635206
>There must be a passage that he uses...
If he's this sloppy in hiding his presence, finding his route should be fairly easy.

>>2635206
>There must be a passage that he uses...

>>2634373
Oh shit I missed the launch

Fucking E3 distracting me

>>2635206
>>There must be a passage that he uses...

>>2635212
It's not that he was THAT sloppy, it's that the graveguard are pretty good at what they do.

Anyways...

>writing

Also roll 3d10 for stealth
DC: 10 no crit
Best of 3

Rolled 5, 10, 7 = 22 (3d10)

>>2635297

Rolled 10, 1, 3 = 14 (3d10)

>>2635297

Rolled 10, 3, 5 = 18 (3d10)

>>2635297

Rolled 1, 4, 8 = 13 (3d10)

>>2635297

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7csiD6eivx4

You are certain that there is a path leading inside.
And given how careless your target is you don't expect there to be many obstacles for you to overcome.
But since you don't know where could that entrance be you'll just have to walk in circles until you stumble across it.

After taking out the coin you received from the peasant you tossed it into the air to determine whether you'll go left or right.
And right it was.

For about half an hour you walked along the edge of this forest within the forest.
The sheer size of this thing honestly surprised you.
What you assumed to be little more than a patch of corrupted land turned out to be large enough that for minutes you felt like going in a straight line while in truth it was slightly angled.
But eventually you stumbled across what you sought.

A small dirt road leading straight in, the branches inside appear to be either cut or broken off.
The road itself saw much use, so much in fact that the dirt got compacted to the point where you can't make out any tracks on it.
This is definitely it.

Before heading in you decided that now would be a good time to start looking over your shoulder for potential ambushes.
Crouching down you slowly made your way deeper inside while paying close attention to any potential traps that might be waiting for you.
But much to your delight it was no trap that was prepared for potential invaders.
No... instead it was just a few soulless husks animated by magick.

But even so you may not have given the necromancer enough credit as he was smart enough to not leave its puppets lying all over the place for everyone to find them.
No...
He had enough brains to keep them close to his base of operations.
This might just turn out to be interesting.

However as you were lost in thought you accidentally stepped on a dead branch.
The loud cracking noise alerts the abominations and they begin to shuffle towards its source.
Seeing this you thrust yourself into the thorny vines without much thought.

You suppressed the urge to make a noise as the barbs easily penetrated your leather armor as well as your skin.
The undead shuffled ever closer and began looking around in dumb confusion.
You took this opportunity to observe your targets handiwork.

And so far you are not impressed.

Mindless automatons of flesh.
Their forms disfigured from all the excess meat and bones grafted onto them.
Deadly, yes, but contradictory to what Necromancy strives to achieve.
Whether through inability, ignorance or just a lack of care this one man did seek what most necromancers strive for: The animation of a skeleton.

Instead he appeared to go backwards, stitching more and more flesh onto his creations.
It's almost pathetic.
Unless...

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But you don't have much time to continue that train of thought as you come face to face with one of the abominations.
It looks directly at you yet fails to see you behind the cover of the roots.
Yet it keeps staring into the darkness as if it knows something is there.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsW72KIOd8U

As it stares at you with its soulless eyes you feel something building up inside of you.
You see the rotting flesh being held in place only with stitches and nails.
A rotting tongue moving lifelessly thanks to the beast not having a lower jaw.
Its arm being turned into a spiked club thanks to the numerous bones grafted onto it.

It's disgusting.
A mockery of life...
And perhaps the most horrid thing a man can do to a corpse.
Now that they've been defiled in such a manner they can no longer be buried as they might corrupt the other corpses.

It fills your soul with hatred just thinking about it.
And the creature notices this.
Their eyes may be rotting but they don't need that.
It's their aether core that allows them to function.
And it's that core which resonated with the rage filled pulses of your heart.

It raises its misshapen arm to strike but it's too late.
You can not control yourself any longer.
These things... you can't tolerate them any longer! These dead have suffered enough!

Thrusting your arm forward you pierce its decaying chest easily with your bare hands.
As you crush the clumped up rock of aether you move out from your hole and throw a knife straight into the core of the one that had its back turned to you.
Now drenched in your own blood thanks to the spikes and barbs you stand face to face with the last monster that must be put in the ground.
You reach for your shovel and with one wrathful strike manage to almost cleave the thing in half.

No longer concerned with remaining undetected you march onward until you reach the end of the road and find yourself at a clearing.
In the middle of which laid a log house that this wretch must've constructed using his horrid creations.
Grabbing your healing tonic you tore out the cork with your teeth and drenched yourself with it to stop most of the bleeding.

There are plenty of undead around here...
Plenty of holes to dig.
But if you take out the one causing all this... then the corpses will return to how they should be.

>Start eradicating these abominations
>Ignore the zombies and run for the house
>It's time to start a fire
>Other? (write-in)

>>2635508
>>Ignore the zombies and run for the house

>>2635508
>Start eradicating these abominations
Though if we could just shove them into the tangle to get them out of the way until they can be dealt with that would be good too.

Just don't really want to get flanked.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Hmmm...
Looks like we are at an impasse

Fine.
QM rolling
1=Ignoring zombies
2=rampage

Okay then.

While I'm writing please roll 3d10.
Best of 3
DC: 15 no crit

>writing

Rolled 8, 9, 5 = 22 (3d10)

>>2635615

>>2635633
Well then...

Wait a second
What did you sacrifice to RNGesus to constantly roll 22s like they are nothing?

>>2635643
I don't remember sacrificing anything... should that worry me?

>>2635663
Not really.
That just means you're blessed

>>2635667
Blessed with building debt to RNGesus, to be extracted from your hide at a vastly more important moment

The dice always get their pound of flesh, in the end.

Rolled 3, 9, 7 = 19 (3d10)

I also forgot my dice

These piles of walking meat are of no consequence.
In truth you don't even need to fight a single one of them.
The one thing you have to kill is the one that made them.

But the fact that they are patrolling the area relentlessly makes approach quite difficult.
Still... there is a way to get past them.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGcv09G5MYc

You took a deep breath and began to focus.
Ever so slightly the back of your throat began to tingle and the flames of your rage condensed into cold steel.
Unflinching, unwavering, uncaring.
You were ready.

A pulse of energy rushed through your body as you take the first step.
You saw the movements of the monsters and followed a path through their blind spots in hopes of avoiding them at least for a bit.
It took a great amount of effort from you to move as silently as possible but you somehow managed.
These dumb golems of flesh hardly even noticed you even when you dashed straight past their backs.

But with the momentum you built up it was not an option to slow down before the door so you decided to crash straight through it.
Which in fact did get the attention of the undead freaks.
However you reached your goal. It no longer mattered that they detected you.

Due to your explosive entry into the building the man responsible for these horrors fell out of his chair and was now laying on the ground before you.
He stared at you in disbelief as he had no idea you were incoming.
But that quickly subsided once he realized just what you are.

"NO!
This can't be!
NOT NOW!
I NEED MORE TIME!
YOU!"
He points at his creations.
"KILL THE GRAVEGUARD!"

The rotting corpses that rushed to their makers aid then proceeded to squeeze through the tiny doorframe.
But you were not about to let them in just yet.
Throwing one fluid filled globe at the horrid creatures followed by a knife you decided to stop them.
Your blade shattered the container, showering the abominations in a fluid which quickly did its job.
In mere moments the creatures that were affected slowed to a crawl and eventually stopped as whatever blood they still had thickened and bound them like glue.

Now staring down at him you began slowly walking towards him as he scurried to stand up.

He's backed into a corner and he has no chance to escape.
Once he attempted to run for the window but you quickly threw a knife at him and he quickly reconsidered as it grazed his cheek.

"H-How did you find me after all this time?!
Tell me!"

It doesn't matter how you found him.
Only the fact that you did.

"Listen! Listen!
My work it's-"
He points at the table which has been covered by a table cloth.
"over there!
Please! Do anything to me j-just...
Don't harm it!"

You don't even budge at his words and instead retrieve your pickaxe just so you could pierce his leg with it.
He falls to the ground screaming as he tries to pull out the heavy tool from his foot.
Now that he's incapacitated you turned your attention to his so called "project".

After pulling it free of its cover things suddenly started making more sense.
You see a strange device, looking like an oversized syringe injecting what looks like blood into the corpse.
But it's not just any corpse, oh no.
Unlike every other creation of his this one was put together with great care.

Looking almost exactly like a regular human the corpse has embalmed with great care.
Its body covered in only a minimal amount of scars which you suspect are remnants of the surgery this man did to restore its organs.
This "woman" is an almost perfect imitation of life and an indication of the necromancers intentions.
Either it was a loved one he desperately wants to bring back to life or a new being he wants to "birth".

You pull out the device and see three bloody needles at the end of it.
This is definitely what you were after.
"HEY! PUT THAT BACK!
YOU'RE RUINING IT! NO!"

You drop the device to the ground and using your shovel you break it apart right before his eyes.
Then to give that knife in him a good twist you uncorked one of your acid flasks and poured it over his beloved masterwork.
In a truly magnificent display his eyes were even more dead than his creations as all hope was drained from them.

"You are all the same...
You know who she was?
My dearest Anna..."
He looks up at you with fury giving life to his deadened eyes.
"YOU BASTARDS HUNG HER BECAUSE SHE FOLLOWED THE WAYS OF HER ANCESTORS!
And then... AND THEN!
AND THEN YOU WOULDN'T EVEN GIVE HER A BURIAL!"

The man then broke down in tears, similarly to the peasant earlier.
You thought you couldn't care less about him but then here came this necromancer to prove you wrong.
A necromancer that married to a culter.
If it was possible to excommunicate and execute someone twice... he would've earned it just now.
This pile of human filth truly disgusts you.

Worship of the Dead God is not mandatory...
However worshipping anything else is forbidden.
To tangle with the Gods is to invite disaster onto the world.
Now you don't feel bad about melting that whores body.
And once you finish him you are certain you'll sleep well tonight.

You walk towards the fat piece of shit with your shovel readied.
Unable to move or resist in any meaningful way he resigned himself to just shouting at you.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND YOU MUTE BASTARD?!
YOU PEOPLE ARE MONSTERS!
YOU ARE THE SCUM OF THIS WORLD!
I HOPE WHEN YOU DIE YOUR BONES GET DESECRATED!"

You want to respond to him. You really do.
Nothing would bring you greater satisfaction than putting him in his place.
But the teachings of the clergy echo in your mind.

"Do not spare a thought nor a word to a necromancer.
You need not lecture every insect you step on.
Do not tolerate their presence and eradicate them!"

But even so... you just couldn't help yourself.
Removing the mask from your face you gave him something which said more than a thousand words ever could.
A smile. The satisfied, cocky smile of a man who has done his job right.
Just looking at you he knew his fate... He will die here, his bones will be buried in a hole, without a proper ritual.
And that means one thing:

"The cosmos takes you!"
That was the first and last thing you said to him.
And you could see dread slowly setting in on him.

>Kill him quick. He sullied this world enough as is
>Take your time. After all, he deserves it
>Other? (write-in)

>>2636004
>Kill him quick. He sullied this world enough as is

>>2636004
>>Kill him quick. He sullied this world enough as is

>>2636004
>Kill him quick. He sullied this world enough as is

That is another obvious one

>writing

File: mausoleum2.jpg (3.51 MB, 3840x2160)

3.51 MB JPG

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRgNvZb15jY

With him pinned like that it was childs play.
Raising your shovel you pointed it at him as you pulled the tool back.
Of course when the time came for your thrust he tried to dodge it but your reflexes were far better than his.
And after knocking out a few of his teeth upon impact the sharpened edge of the spade neatly slid forward, breaking his jaw bone and neatly severing the remainder of his skull from the rest of his body.

After removing your tool from him his head fell to the ground without much grandeur.
Looking over your shoulder you saw the undead freaks fall to the ground all at once and you let out a sigh of relief.
"Finally..."

Putting away your shovel you also withdrew your pick from his leg and returned it where it belongs, at your side.
But now that it's all finished you really have to take care of the mess you left.
It's a horrid job but one that you have to do.

One by one you dragged all the aberrations into the wooden house before setting the whole thing on fire with your firebomb.
Once it was aflame you cared little about what happens to the rest of the forest.
It would be best if the corrupted glade also got reduced to ashes but that would be a short term solution at best.
Sooner or later it would return and it's not like corruption can spread that easily anyway.

So leaving these accursed woods you returned to the graveyard you call home and put your armaments where they belong.
And now that nothing is interrupting you the time for finally finishing your job has come.
First you placed the already prepared skeleton in its rightful place within the catacombs.
Rows upon rows of bones adorned the walls, all neatly placed next to one another.
Some complete, some of them is only a hand. In the end it matters not, what matters is that their souls are saved from the horrors of the cosmos.

With a satisfying crack the bones snapped into place as they became a part of the wall.
Soon enough the remains of the boy followed it.

By the time you were done with all your work the day has ended as the lightwell set beyond the horizon.
With the corpses given their final rights it was time to empty the coffer.

One solitary coin. A boys life.
There is a saying in Midland: "The empty ring of a graveguards box brings good luck."
You never agreed with that logic.
By its very nature every ring is a tragedy, regardless of how full or empty the offering box is.

But sadly you still were not done with today.
Quickly you set down to write a report to the church that you hunted down a practitioner of the forbidden arts today.
Once the raven arrives with this weeks allowance you'll be able to send it back to the bone priests.
Hopefully they'll notice your achievement.

Placing down the quill after finishing your little letter you stretched your arms in satisfaction.
"Aaaaand done!
*phew*
What a day...
I think I'm gonna sleep well today!
...
Hmmmm...
Oh yeah... I completely forgot to eat...
Again."

Aaaand that's a wrap folks!

Archives are up and I hope you enjoyed this little experiment.
Next session we'll be getting into the actual story and the meat of the quest.

If you have any questions feel free to ask them.
I'll try to answer all of them sooner or later.

As for those who might be new...
I have two places where I can be reached.

Twitter: @SpookyngQM
Here I'll post my schedule and when I'm running
The links to the future pastebins will also be available here once I make them

Ask: @Spookyng
You can ask questions here as well

See you guys later.

>>2636249
Neato

>>2636249
this was cool, thanks for running

Just figured I'd mention here that I'm a dedicated reader of your stuff, but generally don't actively participate because my work hours are fucked and I can't make the threads more than once every few months.

I'm sure I'm not alone in that, but I just wanted to express my thanks to you for your continued storytelling!