Undead Reckoning

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WolfofWords
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Undead Reckoning

Post by WolfofWords »

Lord Callum Blackrance
Blackrance Manor
Silvershore, Eastern District

4th Orombre 2168

Sgt. Talbot Hawkwing
Cragrock Apartments
Flatdale, Northern District

Dear Sgt. Hawkwing:

You do not know me but I am not naive enough that you may recognize my name. In my life, I have been fortunate enough to have found the opportunities to bring me great wealth. As I have aged, I have tried to use the advantage of my wealth more charitably. Gone are the days of excess and mindless luxury and now I am most focused on justice and peace. To that end, I have funded mercenaries and adventurers on missions for the greater good. You may have heard of campaigns I funded to capture Korag the Mad Mage, to sink the river pirate Killi Sharkmaw, and to sack the stronghold at Riverden. However, I have not written to you simply to shower praise upon myself.

In fact, you may be wondering at this point why this letter was sent to you. You may also be wondering about the large sum of gold included with this letter. I will endeavor to explain in text what I wish I could explain face to face like true men of honor. I have come to you because of your success in the Elf Wars. I gather that you especially acquitted yourself well in the Battle at Snake Bend. I gather that you have since left the service of the military and you may be free to take on one of my missions.

I recognize that you have laid down your arms and may be reluctant to return to the fray. However, I would not ask if the situation was not dire. In short, I propose a quest to the magic wastes to the south in order to hunt a necromancer. As you know, necromancers cannot be tolerated to exist in this world. I feel that a marksman of your caliber would be necessary to the success of the mission. In truth, I have been assured that this is the case. I implore you to take up arms and join my expedition.

If you accept this offer, I promise a large sum to be paid to you upon completion of the quest. If you decline this offer, please keep the money that I have sent you as payment for your time. If you accept, please take a train to Fallshield and await further instructions. Your presence or absence in Fallshield will be taken as your response. Be well, Seargeant.

Sincerely,

Lord Callum Blackrance

P.S. I have accompanied this message with a gift that may be useful in this mission.

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Re: Undead Reckoning

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Talbot put down the letter and leaned back in his chair. He took a couple of deep breaths and then stood up from his desk and started pacing. Astonishment quickly turned to anger. Who was this Lord Blackrance? Talbot did not recognize his name but there were so many lords and ladies in the Eastern District and especially in Silvershore. He was more focused on the nerve of this Lord raking up Talbot's past. The only thing keeping Talbot from flying into a greater rage was the question of whether Blackrance was being purposefully incendiary or just ignorant.

Either way, he certainly should not have referred to Talbot Hawkwing, of all people, by his military title. Talbot had decidedly soured on the military at the end of his involvement in the Great Elf Wars. In fact, the Battle of Snake Bend was his last major conflict for a reason. Talbot's only brother had died in a volley of fireball spells. Talbot himself had been burned intensely in the attack and had only been able to cradle his brother before support could put out the fires.

After he was free again, he personally executed eleven wizards and sorcerors. He shot them dead like rabid dogs and never felt a moment of remorse. Well, not until later. He had wondered who he had killed. He had wondered if the cause he had fought for was nobler than the cause of those he killed. He and his brother had been recruited to kill Dark Elves because they were evil. Then at the end of the war, a historic truce was reached and leaders from both sides were found to be corrupt and many were imprisoned or allowed to fade into obscurity. The whole thing had turned Talbot's stomach and he knew he was not alone. A lot of the old racial enmity had evaporated decades after the truce.

Talbot had put down his rifle forever. In fact, he had sold the damned thing a long time ago to help fund his new life as a partner in a carpentry business. He liked his quiet life. He had no wish to return to a life of adventure. However, he had to admit that curiosity was starting to rear its ugly head. He returned to his desk and picked up the leather pouch and opened it. There were certificates worth three hundred gold. Far too much money to just consider an offer. He looked at the wrapped package and suddenly knew what the special gift must be but shook his head.

He finally sat back down and started to unwrap the package. He cut the string and opened the long wooden box and then started to pull aside the cloth. It was a rifle. He dropped it back into the box. It was not just any rifle, it was his rifle. The one from the service that he had sold ages ago. How was this possible? Who was this Blackrance? How connected was he? Perhaps Talbot would travel to Fallshield if only to tell this Blackrance to stuff it. He did not care about money. It was not his job to take on a necromancer in the wastes.

He would have to make preparations. He would notify his partners that he was taking a short vacation. He would be back in a week. He would talk to this Blackrance in loud tones and then return home. It would hardly take any time and he would be able to satisfy his curiosity and then get back to it.

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Re: Undead Reckoning

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Talbot arrived at the shop the next morning and was surprised to see a light already on inside even though the sun had yet to rise. He had thought he might have at least a few moments to himself to collect himself, but it could not be helped. He would have to tear the bandage off eventually so it might as well be right away. He pushed the door open and took off his jacket and hung it up. He turned and there was Cara Moonweaver standing there with a slight smile on her face. She always looked so fragile with her thin, willowy limbs but Talbot knew that she was sturdy and strong. She was the senior partner, having started the carpentry shop while Talbot was still in the military and before Silas had arrived from Corria. She was holding two cups of tea.

"Join me for a morning cup?" Cara asked. "It's still a little chilly out there especially before the sun comes up." Cara really did not complain about much but she did consistently complain when it was cold. She was very thin so it made sense.

"Thank you, Cara," Talbot said, taking one of the cups. "It is a relief on an early cold morning."

"It is early for you," Cara said, narrowing her eyes. "Is something the matter? Could you not sleep?" Cara had always been extremely perceptive. There were times when Talbot wondered if she might have a slight psychic gift. Her keen insight was why Talbot often came to her for counsel.

Talbot sighed. "To tell the truth, I did not sleep well," Talbot said. "I was wrestling with something last night."

"Bad dreams?" Cara asked. "You haven't had those since your early days here when the war was still fresh behind your eyes." Over many years, Talbot had probably told Cara the most about his life. His emotions had been more raw when they met and her friendship and the routine and art of carpentry had eased his pain.

"Funny you should mention the war," Talbot said. He rarely mentioned the W-word. "I received a letter yesterday afternoon that made my thoughts turn dark. My trouble continued into the night."

"You'll never truly be at peace until you leave the past behind," Cara said. "time only heals wounds if you allow them to close." It was something she had said many times.

"I know you're not wrong and I thought I was past it," Talbot said. "but some things tend to reopen those wounds. Like this letter."

"Tell me about this letter," Cara said and sat in a chair gracefully.

"Have you ever heard of a Lord Blackrance?" Talbot asked. "Silvershore in the Eastern District."

"I have not," Cara said. "his influence has not spread up here. My family would have heard about them but I could put in some inquiries if you want."

"Thank you but I don't think that will be necessary," Talbot said. "I'll explain that in a minute. He sent me a letter trying to recruit me to take up arms again against a necromancer out in the wastes."

"You're not actually considering going out there are you?" Cara asked. "That sounds like a really bloody affair to get involved with."

"I don't plan on fighting anything or anyone anymore," Talbot said. "but I do want to give this Blackrance a piece of my mind. I would like to do it in person. It only involves going to Fallshield so it would be a relatively short trip."

"You feel that it's necessary to turn this man down in person?" Cara asked.

"I do," Talbot said. "If I simply turn away, I feel like I am running from my past again. If I go and talk to him, I will confront everything. It is not something I look forward to but, through our discussions, I think I need to do it."

"A confrontation instead of merely sending a letter back, though," Cara started, sounding like she was trying to be careful. "It is a big step. Do you think that it might be an inordinate response?"

"I don't think so," Talbot said. "You know me. I consider myself to be a man of honor. This Blackrance drug up a lot of dark things from my past but he also paid me several compliments. It is only right that I refuse him face to face. I could give him a few tips as well."

Cara took a beat and then spoke calmly and even. "What would your brother think?" she asked. The question hung in the air. If it had been anybody other than Cara who asked, Talbot would have been angry. However, it was an astute question. Cara was incredibly wise.

"Honestly, I don't know," Talbot answered. "Barrold was always seeking adventure. He would have jumped on a chance to hunt down a necromancer."

"You would have jumped on it as well decades ago," Cara said. "You have an instinct to protect people and a necromancer threatens society itself."

"Those days are gone," Talbot said. "Besides, I made a promise to Barrold's grave that I would give that life up and I would live for the both of us."

"He never asked you for that promise," Cara said. It was true, Barrold would have never tried to control Talbot's life. He would have supported any decision that Talbot made.

"I still intend to keep it," Talbot said. "I'm done fighting. I'll go and close the door and then I'll come back. It should only take a week at the most by train."

"Do you need my blessing?" Cara asked, a small smile creeping onto her face. "You have it if you want it."

"I don't need it but it is appreciated," Talbot said with a smile. "All I need is for you and Silas to watch the shop. I promise to pick up the slack when I return."

"I do not think he will be as understanding," Cara said. "but you will have to explain things to Silas."

The shop door opened during that last moment and Silas walked in.

"Explain what to me?" he asked.

Cara and Talbot looked at each other for a beat.

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