14th of Cylus, Arc 719
Outside of Etzos
Neronin gestured with his hand, though the mental projection was what really commanded Yoriq. Neronin still maintained a semblance of mundane control to trick himself into believing Yoriq was something of an ally rather than a mindless extension of his own will. Being alone save for one’s own puppets and hated by all else could be taxing. Even for an aloof anarchist like himself.
The revenant hefted his longsword and nudged open the door with his foot. The farmstead, the family home of an influential river merchant of Etzos, was desolate. It had been ransacked previously, though not long ago. Neronin had heard about it from one of the many undead ravens he now employed to gather intelligence around the region. The raven had heard the neighbors talking about it in the next town over.
Any mention of magic was worth investigation…
Neronin had just stepped through an impossibly loud portal with Yoriq in tow. The two made a macabre scene, both pale and darkly garbed. Yoriq kept muttering his nonsense and shaking slightly. The mage waved him inside. The small house had been ransacked professionally. In his time in the Al’Angyryl Neronin had come to understand and appreciate a professional ransacking. He had seen a few conducted by Noth and his lieutenants. This hadn’t been them, however.
Neronin was sure this had been the rogue group he had heard whispers of. Once he had been attacked by a mage claiming to be a part of such an organization. Then he had heard rumors of such mages causing violence in the countryside under order of Vuda. What was that old bastard up to? Who exactly were these people he had apparently come into alliance with, and why? Neronin thought they knew him, having sent an assassin to try to off him. Thus he endeavored to learn of them as much as possible.
This was why he had invested in so many undead ravens flocking to nearby towns and homesteads. He heard rumors that this home had been burned in retaliation for the merchant’s meddling in some affair of the coven. Neronin did not have knowledge of details. He heard through his minions that the place had been burned with magical fire and trashed with shapeshifting monsters. Mages. But the connection to the Coven was a stretch, and perhaps speculation he should not indulge without proper investigation. Hence, he was here. Either way, violent mages were something to be dealt with regardless of their loyalties.
Yoriq stepped further into the room and nudged a fallen chair out of his way. He settled into an expert ready stance. At least the desiccated corpse-man was a competent warrior if nothing else. The revenant now served as Neronin’s right hand and his bodyguard. There was certainly something to be left desired in him, but Neronin’s choices were limited at the moment and he took what he could safely and stealthily get.
Neronin stepped in after the revenant and cast about for clues with his cold gaze. There was movement nearby and both undead and mage turned to face the door. A small black cat slunk out of the house and disappeared into the tall grass. Neronin dismissed it and turned to investigate the house more completely. He found nothing there of consequence. There were many burns along the rafters and the floor that seemed odd, probably defiance at work. There were haunting ghastly clawmarks and blood. No doubt something dangerous had destroyed the people who lived there, not bothering to clean up. But the farmstead had been hit because of the relation to the merchant apparently, not because it housed anything of importance.
Outside of Etzos
Neronin gestured with his hand, though the mental projection was what really commanded Yoriq. Neronin still maintained a semblance of mundane control to trick himself into believing Yoriq was something of an ally rather than a mindless extension of his own will. Being alone save for one’s own puppets and hated by all else could be taxing. Even for an aloof anarchist like himself.
The revenant hefted his longsword and nudged open the door with his foot. The farmstead, the family home of an influential river merchant of Etzos, was desolate. It had been ransacked previously, though not long ago. Neronin had heard about it from one of the many undead ravens he now employed to gather intelligence around the region. The raven had heard the neighbors talking about it in the next town over.
Any mention of magic was worth investigation…
Neronin had just stepped through an impossibly loud portal with Yoriq in tow. The two made a macabre scene, both pale and darkly garbed. Yoriq kept muttering his nonsense and shaking slightly. The mage waved him inside. The small house had been ransacked professionally. In his time in the Al’Angyryl Neronin had come to understand and appreciate a professional ransacking. He had seen a few conducted by Noth and his lieutenants. This hadn’t been them, however.
Neronin was sure this had been the rogue group he had heard whispers of. Once he had been attacked by a mage claiming to be a part of such an organization. Then he had heard rumors of such mages causing violence in the countryside under order of Vuda. What was that old bastard up to? Who exactly were these people he had apparently come into alliance with, and why? Neronin thought they knew him, having sent an assassin to try to off him. Thus he endeavored to learn of them as much as possible.
This was why he had invested in so many undead ravens flocking to nearby towns and homesteads. He heard rumors that this home had been burned in retaliation for the merchant’s meddling in some affair of the coven. Neronin did not have knowledge of details. He heard through his minions that the place had been burned with magical fire and trashed with shapeshifting monsters. Mages. But the connection to the Coven was a stretch, and perhaps speculation he should not indulge without proper investigation. Hence, he was here. Either way, violent mages were something to be dealt with regardless of their loyalties.
Yoriq stepped further into the room and nudged a fallen chair out of his way. He settled into an expert ready stance. At least the desiccated corpse-man was a competent warrior if nothing else. The revenant now served as Neronin’s right hand and his bodyguard. There was certainly something to be left desired in him, but Neronin’s choices were limited at the moment and he took what he could safely and stealthily get.
Neronin stepped in after the revenant and cast about for clues with his cold gaze. There was movement nearby and both undead and mage turned to face the door. A small black cat slunk out of the house and disappeared into the tall grass. Neronin dismissed it and turned to investigate the house more completely. He found nothing there of consequence. There were many burns along the rafters and the floor that seemed odd, probably defiance at work. There were haunting ghastly clawmarks and blood. No doubt something dangerous had destroyed the people who lived there, not bothering to clean up. But the farmstead had been hit because of the relation to the merchant apparently, not because it housed anything of importance.
