We arrived at the White Keep with little incident, avoiding any groups of undead as we went. The Keep looked to be in better condition than many of the other buildings in town. There was blood smeared on the walls and corpses littered the ground but it’s doors and windows were intact, as well as locked. Not only were the doors barred, but there was another note regarding The Whispered One nailed to it. Who is placing these notes, and to what end? We then headed through the courtyard in the direction we thought we had spotted a possible survivor. As we continued we noticed that many of the stone buildings were pitted, as if acid had been corroding them for years. An eerie similarity to the stone bridges of the black dragon’s lair was not lost on us. We spread out and suddenly heard a horrible shriek. Varis climbed a building to gain a better vantage, but before we knew what was happening, a horrible sense of dread filled the air, and banking from around one of the larger buildings the undead, skeletal corpse of what I swear looked just like the black dragon we had slain, was flying straight for us. I looked to my companions, but they were all stuck in their tracks, as if the dreadful sight of this beast was simply too much for them to bear. All but Alacry, she had the strangest grin on her face and was notching an arrow. I quickly called to bear my most powerful arcane attacks to try and slow the horrible undead beast down, and dashed towards Benus, we would need him if we wished to survive. All hell broke loose after that. The group was scattered and every once in a while I would catch a glimpse of one of them, apparently regaining their senses, and looking for an opportunity to engage in combat or attempting to take refuge. The beast may be dead, but it was smart. It circled around the buildings and would come flying in to rain acid down upon us, or to bite and claw at us when we were separated and vulnerable. Eventually we all took shelter in buildings and hunkered down. The seconds seemed to pass like hours, but all fell quite. When we finally ventured back to the streets Jacare yelled out to see if there were any surviving villagers, but all that did was draw a huge crowd of zombies to our location. We all dashed to the White Keep and I used a simple trick of magic that my mentor had taught me to open the doors. All was quiet within.
I had spent much time in the Keeps library in the past and thought I had learned all there was to learn regarding our investigation. How wrong I was. After gaining entry we searched for clues regarding what had transpired with the undead invasion. We found little, save for a lone note on a desk stating that an evacuation was taking place. We did find the cities tax records however, and low and behold our good friend Tyrus’ address was listed. We may have to pay his home a visit. After that we decided to search the library for clues one last time. We discovered some old parchments regarding the history of the region, and more specifically The Grey Family History. I suggested we cross reference these documents with the current tax records to look for any living relatives of the Grey Family and too our astonishment we found one. It was none other than Badger! He seemed as shocked as we did to discover that he came from a family whose line was considered the founders of the Grey Vale. What does this all mean? We needed to rest so we looked for the safest place and eventually found a bunker with a passage to it secreted behind some furniture. It was well stocked and we decided to rest. But my mind was racing with all of this new information, and so I returned to the library and began pouring through the oldest of records, Varis assisted and proved invaluable. What I discovered next was simply astonishing.
In a nook of the library, back behind several crates, I found some of the oldest documents. The ink was faded, Varis brought me extra candles. The language was odd, but I eventually was able to translate, an old dialect that was a mixture of several languages and remixed with a version of the common tongue. The documents were brittle, great care had to be taken. It was then that I read a passage about The Whispered One! I stopped and re-read the passage again. The Whispered One, God of Necromancy, God of the Undead, Lord of the Rotted Tower, The Undying King, God of Secrets, The Maimed God, and then finally a true name, Vecna. It spoke of this God being betrayed by his lieutenant and his hand being chopped off, his eye taken out. Is this the one and the same Whispered One that we are finding notes about? But there was more. All of the children’s stories about Gods. Bahamut, a god of healing, and an ancient legendary silver dragon; The Raven Queen, goddess of undeath; Morradin, god of the dwarves, one of strength, morality and goodness, and Talos Stormcaller. But these were not just references to the gods. These texts spoke of them as if they had existed and that their followers could draw great power and strength from them. But something happened, they began to fade, their followers lost their powers, and the gods retreated. Retreated it said, but did not die. Were the gods real, did they exist? Do they exist? Are these strange events regarding the undead attack and the notes all part of The Whispered One’s followers trying to revive their god? What other myths are possibly true? And what time was it? The growls of my stomach were the only thing that let me know that I had passed the night in research, my mind was spinning. I rarely felt the need to rest, but I had to stop, to think, to take pause. I retreated to the bunker and related my findings to my companions. They were skeptical to say the least. All but Benus. After I described Bahamut he came to me and asked many more questions. Eventually he told me he had a dream during the night. In it he saw the image of a man appear before him. A tall man, taller than any he had ever seen with silver hair, a silver goatee and a comforting face. Odd. Also amongst our discoveries this day was the journal of Lady Saldor. Apparently she was concerned about some terrible creature of the undead being freed from one of the mausoleums. She was planning to investigate it as soon as she could. No other entries of interest. I must rest, then we set out again.
Before we set out the next morning we took the time to climb one of the towers of the keep and look towards Tyrus’ home. What we saw concerned us. That great skeletal dragon was circling the area and perching on a building every once in a while. We decided we would head towards the mausoleum first to investigate what may have become of Lady Saldor. We hadn’t been in the streets for more than a few moments when that horrible sense of dread started to creep up inside me. This time it was too much. Seeing the skeletal dragon flying at us I ran. I ran like I have never run before. Only one thing filled my mind. Fear, an unnatural fear that I could not shake. I wasn’t the only one running. We all ran as quickly as we could towards the entrance of the mausoleum. We got there just in time, as Benus and Alacry were just darting in when a gush of acid came spewing forth! Quickly they slammed the doors to the mausoleum. We were safe. Or were we?…