You have to admit, the idea has crossed your mind a bit. A small part of you does wonder about embracing the whole hero image and deliberately doing grand deeds that go beyond the call of your duty. You suppose that you’d at least really feel like one if you did that.

However, more often than not real heroes don’t live long. You’re wondering what exactly this Mr. Warnov has in mind for you and given his demeanor, his appearance and just your own feelings of uncertainty about him, you decline. You know your limitations even if others don’t see them. So, no you won’t be hunting down some artifact of unlimited power and then single handedly taking out a Demon Lord or Necromancer Lord in their own throne room.

“No, I don’t think so Mr. Warnov. As I’ve often said, I’m no hero. I’m just doing my job and providing for my family.”

Mr. Warnov looks disappointed and sighs, but accepts your decision.

“Very well. This is a shame though. Despite your humble birth you seem to have lots of potential. You could’ve made an excellent addition to our…organization. I’ve also heard your lute playing wasn’t bad either, we don’t have any musically talented types anymore…oh well.”

Mr. Warnov leaves rather quickly after his last statement. Something about him seemed very odd and you’re sort of glad you didn’t take his offer. You go back to your target practice for awhile when you suddenly hear an alarm cry out loudly through the fort about a small demon army being sighted over the hill.

“Well back to work…” you say and prepare for battle once again.

Two years pass…

It’s been five years since the Nuro Incident and things have gotten worse.

Both the Necromancer Lord and Velzix have made progress. Too much. The Grand Alliance hasn’t been able to do anything except fight them to a stalemate. All three sides are looking to gain an advantage and somehow you don’t think it’ll be yours.

The Zalan Empire has become increasingly totalitarian. It’s been increasing its influence over how the Grand Alliance should be run and its strategies. Some of Zalan’s officers have been transferred to become more prominent in leading and commanding the bulk of the Grand Alliance army. You’re not sure if this isn’t a bad idea. Bullying or not, one final voice in matters would probably help the Grand Alliance at this point. There’s been some grumbling by other nations though.

However it’s also begun several repressive internal measures to keep itself safe. Your mom has mentioned in letters back to you of seeing routine patrols now near the farm. Talks of seizing private property for the good of the Empire are being discussed. You don’t really like the sound of that, but it’s not really like you can do anything about it. You can only take solace in the fact that being part of the Zalan army will at least result in your family not becoming homeless. They would probably still be able to live and work on the farm…it just wouldn’t be your family’s anymore. There’s also talk of a draft. You don’t like the sound of that either. Your brother Mallack would certainly be conscripted now. You can’t imagine him dealing with the things you’ve had to face. You hope it doesn’t come to that.

Your position at Virtue is looking worse and worse each day. Parts of the fort are severely damaged, you’re short on man power and you don’t even have any decent wizards or healers. You’ve attempted to talk to Captain Eckard about withdrawing and falling back to a safer position, but he won’t hear of it. This fort is NOT to be abandoned.

The only good thing is that there’s apparently been a small contingent of mercenaries severely messing up things for Velzix in his own territory. They must be incredibly brave or completely mad for Zalan gold to perform such a task. You can’t help but think that maybe YOU would be there right along side them, if you’d joined up with that mercenary company years ago. A sobering thought.

Time to go on patrol again. You gather up some soldiers and get ready. You look at all of them and wonder which ones won’t be coming back this time. You look at yourself and wonder if you will. A few years ago, everyone coming back alive was at least a possibility, but now it’s not even certain.

You go out and change up your routine path again. Always have to be different, can’t become predictable.

A couple of imps attack. Nothing to worry about. Easily dispatched. You know you’ll encounter worse before the day is over though.

A group of Tulan “citizens” led by their demon overseer attacks you next. Made up of hapless slaves and misguided idiots who think serving the demons is going to pan out in the long run.

Finally you come across something a little more unusual. A small group of dwarves fighting off a large demon ambush. They look ragged, wounded and in dire need of help. So you help them.

You unleash five arrows into the head of an Eviscerator before two of your number are fried by a hellfire blast from a Flame Child. The fighting doesn’t get any cleaner from there. You see another one of your members getting shredded, before a path is cleared for the dwarves to follow you back to the fort. One of their own chooses to stay behind to give the rest a chance to escape. As all of you run, a large explosion is heard followed by several yelps, howls and screams. The dwarf has blown himself up with whatever explosives the dwarves are fond of making.

Finally you get back to the fort where it’s relatively safe, and all you’re thinking about is how you’ll have to do this all over again tomorrow. You retire to your private room where you play your lute and hope you aren’t disturbed by another attack on the fort. Happily, that doesn’t happen, but you are disturbed by one of the dwarves you rescued earlier instead. He’s come to thank you.

“Hey lad, I just want to say thanks to your actions at least a few of us survived from our clan. Such as it is now. Something about you looks very familiar. Normally you humans all look the same but…ah hah! You’re that lad who I saved near that farm five years ago! Looks like you returned the favor! Stagir’s the name.”

You didn’t realize it either, but then with all the fighting and the chaos you’d barely survived during that particular day, you weren’t really paying attention to faces. You were just glad someone came along when they did.

“Yeah…small world I guess. So what happened to your clan?”
“Wiped out lad.” Stagir says mournfully. “At least when you humans were fighting each other you didn’t mess with us, but getting caught between the undead and demons…well it’s a bit different.”
“The undead are that far now?” you ask.
“Aye. They and the demons have been involved in skirmishes here and there. Got no problem with evil fighting evil, but it was just our bad luck that my clan was caught in the middle. The demons are evil incarnate to be sure, but the undead…I dunno. Something worse about them. In the final days, I had to kill clan members who I once called friends and family because of the fucking necromancers raising them from the dead. Some stayed behind to fight since they refused to run. They’d rather die than run from their home. Normally I’d agree, but after seeing that this was a losing battle, some of us decided that it would be better to run. After all we would just be raised again to be used as puppets of the necromancers when we die. Not even free will to choose, or the threat of a demon’s whip. You just become one of them. Can’t let that happen to me. Never.”

You know something of it, having had to do a little of that five years ago at Nuro, but actually killing undead parodies of family members would be pretty horrific.

Stagir attempts to lighten the mood a bit by asking you about what you were playing before he interrupted. When you tell him, he tiches and says something about how elven songs are nothing compared to dwarven ones. You never really thought of dwarves having a musical interest before, but Stagir boasts about how they have quite an extensive musical history.

He takes the lute from you and shows you a couple of dwarven songs, breaking strings in the process. His insistent singing accompanying the songs isn’t exactly pleasant either. He complains about the human made strings not being strong enough to play the songs properly, but thanks you again for saving his life before leaving.

Every now and then you play these songs for your new dwarven allies who have taken it upon themselves to strengthen and rebuild the fort the “proper dwarf way”. They seem to appreciate it. You’re a little more careful with the strings and don’t indulge in the singing though. (But unfortunately for the rest of the fort, the dwarves do)

A few months pass and the demon attacks seem to decrease. The strengthened fort certainly helps, but something else is going on. Eventually you’re seeing less and less of them. Eventually some ragged refugees come to the fort and after a bit of babbling and thanking the gods, a few of them explain.

There are a couple of conflicting stories, but it would seem Velzix is dead! He was killed by something or someone. Consensus seems to be that the mercenary leader died in battle with him though. Without Velzix’s leadership the demons are fighting amongst themselves and the realm is in complete disarray. The Grand Alliance is taking steps to retake the land immediately before the Necromancer Lord gets it. The Zalan Empire in particular is closer though, so naturally YOUR nation is going to get that land first!

While things may be looking up somewhat, they aren’t necessarily looking up for you. Captain Eckard has orders to begin an attack immediately. You aren’t looking forward to it mainly because you’ll probably encounter an undead army in the process.

You don’t have a choice though except for what role you can serve. Thanks to your skills and rank. You can either lead troops as normal, or be part of a scouting party.
> You choose to scout
If you’ve learned one thing, numbers doesn’t necessarily imply safety. With all the years of patrolling you’ve done along with your previous actions in Retlad so long ago, you actually feel more comfortable in smaller groups at this point. Your one and only rank and file battle didn’t go well.

Your choice isn’t surprising, if anything more people feel comfortable with you scouting ahead.

As you journey further into former Tulan territory, you don’t encounter too much resistance. A few demons and crazed followers here and there, but nothing you can’t take care of. It also occurs to you how “planted” you’ve been for the past five years. While it’s true you did leave the fort a lot, you never ventured far from it. This is first time you’ve actually traveled. Ironic, since one of the reasons why you joined the army was the possibility of traveling to interesting places.

However, it seems like you only visit these interesting places after they’re already destroyed. You’re basically seeing the aftermath of the demon occupation. It sort of reminds you of what you’d seen back in Retlad when the Quillars were killing folks except the landscape is in even worse condition. The demons weren’t content on just corrupting their mortal slaves; they were attempting to turn the entire land into their infernal realm. You can only imagine what sort of hell was going on while they were actually here.

You get to a small town that’s completely wrecked and seemingly deserted. Its night time and normally you’d go back and wait until morning to scout it, but Captain Eckard is insistent on getting to the former Tulan capital as quick as possible. You split up into small groups to scout the town quicker and tell everyone that if they come across anything more then they can handle, to run and alert everyone else.

You go building to building not really encountering much of anything. Not even survivors. Lots of half eaten dead bodies in various states of torment though. You expect when Velzix was killed the whole realm descended into anarchy pretty quickly and the demons reverted back to their chaotic natures causing as much mayhem as possible without too much repercussion.

You enter a shop with two of your other team members. You hear a creaking sound, which doesn’t sound good. One of your team members goes a little further in, and it gets louder.

“Step back! The floors is…” you utter and then a large portion of the floor collapses underneath him. You attempt to grab his hand, but fail and the rest of the floor collapses underneath you as well.

You don’t fall too far, but you definitely feel it. You recover as quick as you can and hear your other subordinate who managed to avoid falling through the floor.

“Sarge! Are you alright?” Private Ramusen shouts.
“Yeah, yeah private. I’m just a little bruised.”
“What about Gannon? Is he alright?”

You take your tinder box and make a small light. You look around and see that you must be in the basement of some sort of music shop from all the instruments you see. You didn’t even notice when you first entered the place, it just looked like any other ransacked shop.

Upon further inspection you see a body lying on the floor. It’s Private Gannon and he’s dead. He didn’t land in the “good way” you did and broke his neck.

“He’s dead.” You call up to Ramusen.
“Shit! He’s fuckin’ dead?”
“Yeah private, I just said he was! Now let me get the hell out of here…fuck! The damn stairs are completely destroyed. I can’t climb up, or even attempt a jump. Ramusen, throw down a rope and make sure you really secure it!”

While you wait for Ramusen to complete this task, you take a look at some of the instruments. Lots of flutes and other wind instruments that don’t interest you. You grab an old looking mandolin. It’s definitely human design, but it seems very ornate though, must’ve been a specialty piece that wasn’t for sale.

You pluck at the strings and despite the dirt, grime, and neglect of the instrument; it still manages to produce a fairly pleasing tone. You play for a good five minutes before you realize that Ramusen hasn’t thrown down the rope yet.

“Private?” is all you utter, when you hear the slumping of a lifeless body, followed by a low voice.

“Beautiful…”

You grab your bow, when you see a dark figure loom above you. You fire, but miss due to the figure dodging quicker than anything you’ve ever encountered before. It doesn’t help that this same figure has jumped down the hole beside you before you can blink.

You’re standing right before the figure now. He has a pale, but familiar face, though the blood around the mouth is new and not encouraging. He knocks the bow out of your hand, but does nothing else to you. You wouldn’t be quick enough to draw your sword given what you’ve seen. In fact right now, all you’re feeling is fear.

“Almost hit me…you would’ve made a good addition. Maybe you could’ve even…no. Nobody can. This world is lost now and soon my kind won’t even be around to guide your kind to combat the inevitable anymore…” Warnov says.
“What…what are you talking about?” you ask unsure what’s going to happen next. Warnov looks as if he could tell you more than you’d ever want to know about lots of things, but instead he just shakes his head.

“Nevermind human. Telling you the whole story would not help you anyway. Perhaps it’s best you hadn’t joined us, seeing as I have been marked now. It won’t be long before the rest of my kind are hunted down. He’s really quite pissed at us, and worse, he can sense us you see…(sigh) I can only imagine what he did to poor Count Rostov…”
“Who’s pissed?”
“Who do you think human? The Necro…I mean the Great Lich Lord of course. Oh yes. He’s back…and this one isn’t going to lose like the last one did so long ago.”

You’re not following all of Warnov’s cryptic speak, but if the last bit he’s said is true, he’s scared the hell out of you more than he has with his actions. Warnov grabs your shoulder and looks into your eyes.

“I do not envy your fate human…the extinction of your species will soon follow my own. My advice to you? Live human! Live while you can, for eventually this whole world will be dead and under his complete control.”

Sensing that he’s brought enough doom and gloom to you, he relents and steps back.

“Play me a song human.” He says catching you off guard.
“…what did you want to hear?” you ask shakily.
“I don’t know…anything. Play what you were playing before.”

You slowly pick up the dropped mandolin and begin playing the song that you were playing before and you play as if your life depended on it, though you get the impression that Warnov has no intention on killing you.

He sits quietly listening in the darkness, after finishing the song; he leaps back up through the hole.

“Beautiful…such talent…such a waste…”

A rope is thrown down and the sounds of feet running off are then heard. You wait a minute and then climb up the rope, taking the mandolin with you. You see private Ramusen lying nearby with his throat ripped out and thoroughly drained of blood.

You’re also just in time to hear other members of your group coming to your position when you exit the shop.

What the hell are you supposed to tell them? Death to the world, reborn lich lords…you start thinking, what’s the point of all this? Maybe Warnov was right, maybe you should LIVE while there’s still time. Granted his information is spotty, but you can’t help but thinking he’s probably more informed on the situation than most people.

You’ve pondered it several times before, and you’ve even attempted it once, but deserting is looking very desirable again. In this day and age, who’s going to know if were killed or not?
> You stay and inform your squad of the situation
If the information that the vampire said was true, you think it might be better to inform your superiors of it so that something can be done now. It won’t do any good to run off with this vital info and let them find out when it’s too late and your “freedom” won’t mean anything as death takes over the world.

You meet up with the rest of your men who are calling out your name. They ask if you’re okay and you reply you are, but you need to inform the captain of the new info you learned.

When you return, you tell Captain Eckard exactly what happened, but instead of stopping to assess this new info or taking it immediately to his superior, he dismisses it! He said the vampire was probably just fucking around with you.

“That vampire was probably toying with you like a cat would a mouse. He probably has your scent now, so he’ll hunt and attack you later. The stories he’s told you are probably just to keep your mind occupied with nonsense as well as to give us misinformation. Hell, he’s fucking undead! He’s probably WORKING with the Lich Lord!”
“But…but it was an agent of the Zalan Empire. Agent Warnov. He…”
“NO! He LOOKED like Warnov. Vampire can change their form you know! And even if it was the real Warnov, he’s undead now and working for the enemy!”
“Well if that’s the case shouldn’t we still inform head quarters immediately? He probably had lots of vital information that…”
“Look, the only thing we need to do is take the territory of the former Tulan Kingdom before the undead do! THAT’S our primary concern! So I’ll have no more discussion about it sergeant! Get ready to march tomorrow! We’re heading for the former capitol!”

You leave Eckard’s tent and shake your head at his stupidity, but there’s not much you can do about it now. You do decide that you’re going to inform another high ranking officer when you can though.

Soon the company is on the move to its destination. It gets more dangerous the closer you get though. You’re getting ambushed by demon bands of them all the time. Not enough to destroy you of course, but certainly enough to whittle your numbers down. Captain Eckard gives you more troops to supply your losses, but by the time you get to the capitol, the whole company has lost at least a third of its original strength.

Things don’t get any better at the capital. Most of the citizens there have been so corrupted or beat down by the demons at this point that they’ve either sold their own souls to Hell or gone completely mad. You’re attacked by them and a few of the demon hold outs.

By the time you subdue and hold the territory, you’re down to half of the company’s original strength.

Then after a few days the undead arrive.

Captain Eckard’s rather inept handling of things don’t get any better. Instead of shoring up the defenses of the capital’s gates and walls and waiting for reinforcements which were going to arrive soon, he orders an open attack on the battlefield!

You are very reluctant to do this, but again you don’t have any choice now. You fight and barely survive long enough to fallback when Captain Eckard calls for a retreat after finally realizing he’s hopelessly outmatched. Unfortunately he’s just provided more troops for the undead army, as the necromancers in charge raise the recent dead. They also start raising the dead citizens IN the city which haven’t been cleared out!

It’s an ignoble death as you’re eventually surrounded, overwhelmed and cut down by zombies and skeletons. You join their ranks soon afterwards.


If you’ve learned one thing, numbers doesn’t necessarily imply safety. With all the years of patrolling you’ve done along with your previous actions in Retlad so long ago, you actually feel more comfortable in smaller groups at this point. Your one and only rank and file battle didn’t go well.

Your choice isn’t surprising, if anything more people feel comfortable with you scouting ahead.

As you journey further into former Tulan territory, you don’t encounter too much resistance. A few demons and crazed followers here and there, but nothing you can’t take care of. It also occurs to you how “planted” you’ve been for the past five years. While it’s true you did leave the fort a lot, you never ventured far from it. This is first time you’ve actually traveled. Ironic, since one of the reasons why you joined the army was the possibility of traveling to interesting places.

However, it seems like you only visit these interesting places after they’re already destroyed. You’re basically seeing the aftermath of the demon occupation. It sort of reminds you of what you’d seen back in Retlad when the Quillars were killing folks except the landscape is in even worse condition. The demons weren’t content on just corrupting their mortal slaves; they were attempting to turn the entire land into their infernal realm. You can only imagine what sort of hell was going on while they were actually here.

You get to a small town that’s completely wrecked and seemingly deserted. Its night time and normally you’d go back and wait until morning to scout it, but Captain Eckard is insistent on getting to the former Tulan capital as quick as possible. You split up into small groups to scout the town quicker and tell everyone that if they come across anything more then they can handle, to run and alert everyone else.

You go building to building not really encountering much of anything. Not even survivors. Lots of half eaten dead bodies in various states of torment though. You expect when Velzix was killed the whole realm descended into anarchy pretty quickly and the demons reverted back to their chaotic natures causing as much mayhem as possible without too much repercussion.

You enter a shop with two of your other team members. You hear a creaking sound, which doesn’t sound good. One of your team members goes a little further in, and it gets louder.

“Step back! The floors is…” you utter and then a large portion of the floor collapses underneath him. You attempt to grab his hand, but fail and the rest of the floor collapses underneath you as well.

You don’t fall too far, but you definitely feel it. You recover as quick as you can and hear your other subordinate who managed to avoid falling through the floor.

“Sarge! Are you alright?” Private Ramusen shouts.
“Yeah, yeah private. I’m just a little bruised.”
“What about Gannon? Is he alright?”

You take your tinder box and make a small light. You look around and see that you must be in the basement of some sort of music shop from all the instruments you see. You didn’t even notice when you first entered the place, it just looked like any other ransacked shop.

Upon further inspection you see a body lying on the floor. It’s Private Gannon and he’s dead. He didn’t land in the “good way” you did and broke his neck.

“He’s dead.” You call up to Ramusen.
“Shit! He’s fuckin’ dead?”
“Yeah private, I just said he was! Now let me get the hell out of here…fuck! The damn stairs are completely destroyed. I can’t climb up, or even attempt a jump. Ramusen, throw down a rope and make sure you really secure it!”

While you wait for Ramusen to complete this task, you take a look at some of the instruments. Lots of flutes and other wind instruments that don’t interest you. You grab an old looking mandolin. It’s definitely human design, but it seems very ornate though, must’ve been a specialty piece that wasn’t for sale.

You pluck at the strings and despite the dirt, grime, and neglect of the instrument; it still manages to produce a fairly pleasing tone. You play for a good five minutes before you realize that Ramusen hasn’t thrown down the rope yet.

“Private?” is all you utter, when you hear the slumping of a lifeless body, followed by a low voice.

“Beautiful…”

You grab your bow, when you see a dark figure loom above you. You fire, but miss due to the figure dodging quicker than anything you’ve ever encountered before. It doesn’t help that this same figure has jumped down the hole beside you before you can blink.

You’re standing right before the figure now. He has a pale, but familiar face, though the blood around the mouth is new and not encouraging. He knocks the bow out of your hand, but does nothing else to you. You wouldn’t be quick enough to draw your sword given what you’ve seen. In fact right now, all you’re feeling is fear.

“Almost hit me…you would’ve made a good addition. Maybe you could’ve even…no. Nobody can. This world is lost now and soon my kind won’t even be around to guide your kind to combat the inevitable anymore…” Warnov says.
“What…what are you talking about?” you ask unsure what’s going to happen next. Warnov looks as if he could tell you more than you’d ever want to know about lots of things, but instead he just shakes his head.

“Nevermind human. Telling you the whole story would not help you anyway. Perhaps it’s best you hadn’t joined us, seeing as I have been marked now. It won’t be long before the rest of my kind are hunted down. He’s really quite pissed at us, and worse, he can sense us you see…(sigh) I can only imagine what he did to poor Count Rostov…”
“Who’s pissed?”
“Who do you think human? The Necro…I mean the Great Lich Lord of course. Oh yes. He’s back…and this one isn’t going to lose like the last one did so long ago.”

You’re not following all of Warnov’s cryptic speak, but if the last bit he’s said is true, he’s scared the hell out of you more than he has with his actions. Warnov grabs your shoulder and looks into your eyes.

“I do not envy your fate human…the extinction of your species will soon follow my own. My advice to you? Live human! Live while you can, for eventually this whole world will be dead and under his complete control.”

Sensing that he’s brought enough doom and gloom to you, he relents and steps back.

“Play me a song human.” He says catching you off guard.
“…what did you want to hear?” you ask shakily.
“I don’t know…anything. Play what you were playing before.”

You slowly pick up the dropped mandolin and begin playing the song that you were playing before and you play as if your life depended on it, though you get the impression that Warnov has no intention on killing you.

He sits quietly listening in the darkness, after finishing the song; he leaps back up through the hole.

“Beautiful…such talent…such a waste…”

A rope is thrown down and the sounds of feet running off are then heard. You wait a minute and then climb up the rope, taking the mandolin with you. You see private Ramusen lying nearby with his throat ripped out and thoroughly drained of blood.

You’re also just in time to hear other members of your group coming to your position when you exit the shop.

What the hell are you supposed to tell them? Death to the world, reborn lich lords…you start thinking, what’s the point of all this? Maybe Warnov was right, maybe you should LIVE while there’s still time. Granted his information is spotty, but you can’t help but thinking he’s probably more informed on the situation than most people.

You’ve pondered it several times before, and you’ve even attempted it once, but deserting is looking very desirable again. In this day and age, who’s going to know if were killed or not?
> You sneak off
Last time you were wounded and had the misfortune of running into demons. Well you aren’t wounded this time and you’re pretty sure you won’t be running into too many more demons. You’ll be able to pull it off this time. You can’t do this army shit anymore, as much as you want to help your family out, you’ve got to live your own life regardless of what the future holds. You aren’t even worried about committing an executionable offense.

You easily sneak away as you hear your men call out your name looking for you. You’re glad you didn’t leave too much back at the fort, except your lute, but you’ve got your newly acquired mandolin to make up for it. Eventually you’re away from civilization altogether.

While you’re out in the wilderness you think about your family again, and you have to at least let them know you’re still alive. Maybe you can still do something about them, after all it doesn’t sound like the Zalan Empire is becoming a great place to live anymore. Perhaps you could convince them to move?

It takes a week of sneaking around and keeping out of sight, but eventually you make it back home. Zalan looks a lot different; hell home looks a lot different. There was a small wooded area near your farm, but most of the trees have been cut down now. You also remember fewer patrols. Your house looks in better condition however. You guess at least your family seems a lot safer, but for how long?

You knock on the door in the middle of the night and your sister Randi answers, Not too surprising as she always was a night owl when she was little. At least she used to be little. The passing of the years and she’s now a teenager and grown quite a bit. You’ve been away so long.

What does surprise you is the flintlock pistol that she’s currently pointing at you!

“Whoa! Hold on! It’s me, your brother!” you say.
“…it is? It is you!” she exclaims and puts down the gun before hugging you.
“What the hell are you doing with a pistol?”
“The money you sent us allowed to buy new things you know and a traveling merchant was selling this for cheap!”
“No I mean, what are YOU doing with one? You’ll blow your damn head off with that thing! Those things are unstable.” You scold.
“What are you doing home? Are you on leave?”
“Uh…that’s a long story. Wake up the rest of the family; I have to talk to you all.”

Randi complies while you step inside the house and take in its new look. Eventually your Mom enters, followed by your brother Mallack and finally your youngest brother Calwin and sister Makana.

You all sit down at the dining room table. (You realize you haven’t done that with your family in years) and you tell them everything. You get a lot of worried reactions. More for you than the other world impending doom stuff though. At least you know that they care.

“You gotta get back to the army right now! Say you got captured by something and it took you awhile to escape!” Mallack exclaims.
“While I’m sure that MAY work, I just don’t want to do it…I can’t take this anymore. The whole time I’ve been in the damn army, my music has kept me sane. I’ve noticed it have an effect on others as well. Never thought it would. I mean I have talent and…”
“…you feel like you’ve wasted your life?” your mother replies.

You pause for a moment. You almost want to say yes, but you can’t even if you wanted to. You haven’t wasted it, its just you’ve never really had the chance to do what you’ve ever wanted to do.

“No…I guess I haven’t… it’s just…”

Your mother takes your hand and speaks to you.

“I know. It’s not fair. It’s not right. Life isn’t fair and it’s starting to get a whole lot less fair. I know I’ve mentioned it in letters to you, but the Zalan Empire WILL be taking the farm…and it’s looking like Mallack’s going to be drafted if things are going the way they seem to be.”
“But…see that’s what I’m saying! We could all move! I mean of course I have to go into hiding, maybe Mallack could come with me. And the rest of you could use what money you have left and move to Retlad! It’s a nice place. It’s away from most of the fighting, and there aren’t anymore Quillars there!”

Your mother shakes her head.

“You must be behind in the news, because Retlad is finally going to become part of the Zalan Empire soon, so going there to live wouldn’t make any difference. The Empire can take this farm, but in spirit this will ALWAYS be ours. The Empire has said they will allow us to continue working it and living on the land and even if they didn’t they’d have have to drag us all out and stick our heads on pikes before we’d leave. Your father and his father build this farm up to what it is. Our family is going to be here until the end.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of…what about you Mallack? You’re probably going to be drafted. You aren’t worried about that?”
“Sure I am. But what am I going to do, run? Where? From what you described you practically think the whole world is doomed anyway! I might as well take some of the undead bastards out before I go. I was getting bored of the farm anyway. Let Randi take over! Ha ha!”

Your mother addresses you again.

“Son, you know our family. We’ve always done the right thing, even if it doesn’t coincide with what we want…I think you know what you have to do.”

And so you do. So you do.

You spend one night with your family and make the most of it. You all laugh and joke, trying to put all the problems of the world out of your mind and of course before you leave you play a song for them.

Eventually you hug them all goodbye and take your leave. More than a few tears are shed on both sides.
> You head back to the army
Now you have to figure out a plan that’s going to prevent you from getting executed. You figure your brother’s plan isn’t exactly a bad one. Your record is good enough that you’d probably be believed. You think up a lie explaining that you were captured by a particularly sadistic vampire who was planning on draining you slowly to keep you as ongoing food. He took you to a cave in the hills where you barely killed him and escaped with your life. You would’ve made your way back sooner, but there were large groups of marauding orc raiders and demons escaping the ruins of the former Tulan kingdom that caused you to be extra cautious and forced you to hide for a few days.

Yep, that sounds good. You head out with the plan of meeting up with Captain Eckard’s company which is surely at the Tulan Kingdom now.

Eventually you reach the same town you were at when you made your decision to try to leave. You find it occupied right now, it’s not your company, so you’re about to press on, but someone on patrol sees you.

“HALT! Where are you supposed to be soldier?!”
“Oh…uh…” you say getting caught off guard. You mentally curse yourself for not being more aware.
“Speak up! Wow, you look a little worse for wear…what company are you with?”
“I was with Captain Eckard…but…”

“Captain Eckard’s company? Holy shit! We thought they all got killed! The undead reached the Tulan capital first and ambushed them! But why am I telling you? You were there! You must’ve just barely escaped! Don’t worry; you can avenge your friends, we’re gathering strength to attack soon!”

You don’t believe this…

The guard begins speaking to you excitedly and asking you how you escaped. You just continue to say you don’t know, it all became a blur when the ambush occurred and how you attempted to fight, but it was just too much. The guard sympathizes and tells you that you can explain more to his captain. You notice he isn’t wearing Zalan armor, he’s wearing Azi Republic armor. You can only assume that perhaps this is a Grand Alliance company.

Your ideas come true when you do indeed notice several kinds of troop types, though the Zalan Empire soldiers seem to be leading, as the captain is wearing the armor. Your heart sinks when you recognize her and she recognizes you. It was years ago, but you both remember.

“…what are you doing here?” the female captain asks. “Last I heard you were in Captain Eckard’s company. A company that was reported to be wiped out completely. Have you managed to avoid death once again? You are the lucky one aren’t you?”

Suddenly surrounding soldiers start to recognize you more closely. The Zalan ones especially.

“Holy shit it’s him! You fuckin’ survived not one but TWO overwhelming undead hordes! We gotta take him captain, he’s obviously good luck!” the guard says a little misguidedly.
“Good luck? If you haven’t noticed, only HE seems to be getting out alive on these things! I’d say he’s bad luck!” someone else says.
“Nonsense! I heard how he’s killed countless demons with his bow! We could use someone like that in our next attack.” another says.
“Isn’t he the guy that plays the lute really well?”

A few people start arguing until the female captain speaks again.

“ENOUGH! I’ll handle this. You in my office now, I’ll speak with you in private. And for the rest of you, get ready to move out. We’re attacking tomorrow.”

She turns away and enters a building; you slowly follow, while everyone else disperses.

When you enter the wrecked “office” she closes the door and tells you to sit down, but she doesn’t. Instead she stares at you hard at you and draws her sword.

“Okay Mr. Survivor. Convince me.”
“Convince you of what?”
“Convince me that you aren’t some fucking undead spy!”
“WHAT?! How? I mean…”
“Easy! In the two encounters you had with the undead on any major scale, you’ve been the only one to survive. Once, maybe. But twice? Mighty suspicious…”
“But I mean…I’m not undead! Look I even walk around in the daylight, I’m not even pale!”
“I didn’t say you were undead, I said you were a spy. There are few of those misguided traitors that think their necromancer overlords will be kind to them, by killing them last. Madness.”
“But I’m not a spy! I killed…” you begin to stutter under pressure.
”Yeah, yeah, you killed demons. Big deal. The undead and demons weren’t friends either. What better way to be a spy than to make yourself a hero?”
“But I’m not…”
“You’re not what?”
“I’m not…”
“What? More lies? Spit out the truth spy!” she demands pointing her sword at your throat.
> You blurt out the truth
You can’t take it anymore.

“I’M NOT A FUCKING HERO! OKAY!? I NEVER WAS AND I NEVER WANTED TO BE! (sob)… I just wanted to go home…(sob)”

You weep for a few minutes before the captain speaks again.

“Alright then what happened? Tell me the entire truth and maybe you’ll avoid the executioner’s axe.”

At this point you have little choice. You’re too distraught to say anything else. You give a relatively condensed version of what happened. At Nuro and what happened recently. Your encounter with Warnov seems to surprise her quite a bit. You also go on to explain that it was high ranking Zalan officers that insisted on this hero nonsense. She believes you, like she knows something of it.

“(sigh) Yeah there’s a statue of my dad in the Zalan capitol…but I know better…”

You don’t question anymore about this quiet outburst from her since you’re still too worried about what’s going to happen to you.

“So why did you come back? You probably could’ve gotten away with it.”
“The same reason why I joined. My family. I guess I just needed a reminder of that first hand. And if there’s any hope of changing the tide of this war with the undead then I need to stand by my decision of joining the Zalan Army and making the world safer for them.”

Once again the captain seems to soften. She almost looks like she’s going to tear up as well, but she turns away.

“My family…I…” are all she says before taking a deep breath and turning back towards you, with a serious mindset again.

“Alright, I shall trust your word for now sergeant, but I will be watching you VERY carefully! Consider yourself lucky for evading death once again, perhaps you do have knack for avoiding it. Let us hope that luck rubs off on the rest of us in the upcoming battle. I’m putting you in charge of the Retlad archery platoon. They’ll probably like you. Dismissed.”

Before you leave she says one last thing.

“And sergeant, don’t listen to what that bizarre vampire said. We’re not going to become extinct. We’re going to win and survive a long time. Besides you still have to play that song for me.”

As you leave you feel a sigh of relief that you won’t be dying just yet, but given that you’re heading into battle soon with the undead, you’re wondering if you just didn’t postpone the inevitable.

Two years pass…

Seven years since the Nuro Incident changed the world into this living hell.

Your time served in the Grand Alliance has not really changed much. The Grand Alliance and the Zalan Empire are basically one of the same now thanks to the complete embrace of a totalitarian system. Might makes right. Nations like the Azi Republic protested, but there was little that they could, after all Zalan has been practically defending the world by itself for the past few years. You get the impression that if this war is won; the Zalan Empire is going to throw its hat in to be a one world government.

Amazing how power and conspiracy is plotted even when it probably won’t happen. “Probably won’t” because your superiors and political leaders are a lot more “optimistic” about winning than you are, but then they haven’t had to face the horrors you’ve faced.

And horrors are a completely accurate word. You’ve gotten over your fear of the undead, but it doesn’t make it any easier. You’re starting to lose ground. Everyday the living lose someone, the Great Lich Lord gains. It’s a question of numbers and quite frankly your side doesn’t have them.

You sort of wish your old captain was here. She was a very good leader and inspirational, but then again that’s why she was made a general and sent elsewhere. She asked you to play that song before she left though. Somehow it seemed to make her sadder afterwards.

“Captain, undead are on the move, they won’t be long now.” One of your messengers says.
“Yes, I can sense it. Here. You head back to my home. You know where it is by now, and give this message to my family. If you get back here and see undead, well get the fuck out and run back to Zalan territory.”

Being a captain hasn’t really turned you into a copy of the captains you served in the past, but then again you didn’t even think you’d ever be promoted to one. Your reign as one has been a little unorthodox as you’ve applied more guerilla tactics than traditional ones, but given your assignment and your background it makes a hell of a lot more sense.

You’re currently stationed on what remains of the Garwold Confederacy. It was a relatively peaceful nation made up mostly of Halflings and Gnomes, with lush green fields and flowers. Now it’s just slowly becoming another massive graveyard and example of genocide.

You’ve gotten to know quite a few of them and you’re always amazed of how they can keep their sense of humor in the face of utter destruction. One of them actually gives you an answer.

“To keep from crying.”

Indeed. You’ve been playing quite a bit when you’re not battling the undead. (The Garwold citizens enjoy your playing a lot) It’s gotten to the point where you don’t just play anymore to keep your mind off of things, it’s like it transports you to a different world. A better world.

If only.

You often wonder how your brother Mallack is doing. He’s been stationed in a relatively safer location back in Zalan territory. You’re guessing that it lowers the odds of having your mom lose both of her sons at the same time. Like it makes it any better if she lost them within any length on time of each other. You wonder if the war is going to go on long enough that by the time Calwin grows up he’ll be drafted as well.

If he even gets the chance to grow up.

You can’t think about it now. A massive undead horde is coming and there’s no where left to hide. There will be open battle and you need to stay focused.

You go through the whole order thing, and making sure your strategy is sound. You wish you had more wizards, but they seem to be in shorter supply these days. It’s almost like they’re being targeted deliberately sometimes…actually you don’t think it, you KNOW that they are.

You see the undead horde approach. You look through some new fangled dwarven invention called an eye piece and see something makes your job a hell of a lot worse.

You don’t just see the usual undead. You see fully armored Death Knights. Harder to kill than even a zombie giant. You see Blood Specters. Dark crimson spirits that can cause their victims to bleed from every orifice with their shrieks. Both of those are at the head of this horde, and this isn’t even counting that you’re severely outnumbered by just the regular zombies, skeletons, ghosts and the like.
> You break off into a smaller skirmishing force
You know that this is most likely a losing battle, but some hope might be gained, if you can somehow draw out the knights and specters and get them by themselves. As powerful as they are, they’re very hard to control even by necromancers and get easily agitated by living creatures.

You can’t do it alone though. You take your best archers and a couple of your best wizards and mention your plan. You don’t ask for volunteers, you just assign. You’re in charge and you have to make the hard decisions, even if it might mean you’ll die. They don’t look enthused, but you aren’t either.

You tell everyone else to hold their ground while you and your small platoon ride towards the horde.

“Ready those blessed silvers men, and you robe wearers melt those dead tin cans!”

You get close enough and you unleash as many blessed silver arrows as you can at the Blood Specters. You kill a few. The wizards don’t do quite as well with the knights. However, both attacks are enough.

You see the Specters and Knights making whatever unearthly noises they do and begin to advance towards you far ahead of the slower yet steady moving horde. It apparent that the necromancer controlling them is attempting to bring them back under control, because they begin to squirm back and forth which gives you some more time to kill a few more during their confusion. Eventually the necromancer must give up total control because they stop squirming and advance upon you once again.

You ride back as quickly as possible with the Specters and Knights in full pursuit. You didn’t expect those Specters to be so fast. A few of them manage to catch up to some of your men with grisly results. You yourself almost get smacked upside the head by a Death Knight mace. When you get back in range the rest of your awaiting army deals with your pursuers. More blessed arrows fly into the Blood Specters before they can do anymore harm, and eventually the Death Knights are brought down as well.

There is no time for a reprieve though, as the main horde is now almost upon you. You order a regrouping as best you can, and face the enemy, telling if possible for someone to aim for the necromancer in all of this rotting mess.

Bones and limbs from both sides are broken and hacked off. A zombie skull is smashed, splashing maggots, blood and brains all over you and you’re not even thinking about it. You just have a tune in your head to take yourself away from the massacre. Somehow in all of the chaos, you single out the necromancer leading this army, he stands a far piece away from the main fighting, but he’s arrogant enough to be close enough for you to hit him with an arrow.

And you have to hit him now. You see a Grand Alliance soldier who just took a fatal blow to the chest begin to rise…

Not many arrows left and not much time, you just load up and shoot, hoping you hit the bastard.

Your shot is straight and true. It strikes the necromancer in the stomach, causing him to fall back, which in turn causes the undead horde to momentarily stop their vicious attacks, giving your side a chance to turn the tide a bit.

Then you shoot another arrow when you see the necromancer attempt to get back up, which turns the tide completely in your favor. Zombies and skeletons fall. Ghouls flee at the loss of leadership and any remaining undead are quickly dispatched. You don’t take chances though. You walk up to the corpse of the necromancer and shoot your last arrow directly into his head and stab him a few times.

You then start laughing.

“If this was the Great Lich Lord, I’d be a real hero right now!”

You quickly sober up from this macabre outburst when you hear shouting from some of your men and you look up.

It’s another horde. Just as big. You look behind you and see that your own numbers are completely insufficient. The Garwold citizens are either mostly dead or demoralized at this point.

Even when you win…you lose.

Having no real options, you sound a retreat to fall back to the Zalan border and suggest that the Garwold citizens do likewise as there is nothing more for them here.

The Garwold Confederacy is now just one more loss for the living. The Zalan Empire won’t be far behind.

Three years pass…

Ten years since the Nuro incident and The Grand Alliance is nearly just consisting of the Zalan Empire now, which in turn has had to adapt a siege mentality. There is no “going on the offensive” anymore. You’re purely on defense.

Your brother Mallack died two years ago. Transferred to a location with more fighting due to lack of manpower. Like it matters. Didn’t even get to say goodbye. You can only hope he didn’t become one of those things…but you know he probably did.

You’ve been urging your family to run where it’s safer, but of course they won’t budge. The undead have been penetrating deeper into Zalan territory, you know it’s only a matter of time before the Great Lich Lord decides to stop toying with you and makes his full scale attack.

Sure enough it happens. Town after town is taken; you’re pushed back further and further, and you know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

An order is given to everyone to fallback to the capital and help defend it from an upcoming attack, but at this point you’re just wondering if the rest of your family is still alive.
> You report to the captial
Everything tells you that you should go to your family, but you question if they are even still alive. You don’t want to think about it really since it’s starting to upset you. The thought of your remaining family being killed and turned into undead parodies of themselves, makes you not want to know if that’s what happened.

You wonder if they might’ve even fled already like you’ve been telling them to in your letters. It’s certainly possible, even as stubborn as your Mom is, she might’ve taken your advice at least for the sake of the rest of your brother and sisters.

You mind suddenly goes elsewhere…

…Yeah…they left already. There’s no point in going to your home. It’s been abandoned. They’re probably all safe in Retlad by now. No need to worry. You’ll see them later. Surely this attack on the capitol won’t be that bad. You’ve survived a lot worse. You’ve got orders and you need to follow them, because if there is any chance at stopping this dead plague, this is going to be a crucial battle. You did join the army to help your family after all, and what better way to help them, then to ensure their future?

After having this little delusion, you feel calm again. Oddly so. Even a little hopeful. You head off to the capitol with your troops.

When you get there, the general attitude is pessimistic. Most people don’t seem to think they’re going to win. You’re getting that vibe even from the generals of the Grand Alliance. You don’t see why. Surely the Great Lich Lord has finally overextended all his resources now. This attack will be a failure and from here you will be able to make a counter attack! Sure it won’t be easy, but it can be done.

People are finding your optimism a little weird, especially those that have served under you since they know how that really isn’t your personality. You don’t think you’ve changed at all though. You just go about following your orders of making sure your troops are prepared in their defense of the south wall, humming little tunes as happy music fills your head.

A few days pass and you’re visited by your old commanding officer who’s constantly making sure everything is in place. She looks very tired; you tell her she needs to think positive. When she asks if you’re feeling alright, you just laugh and ask if she’d like to hear a song.

She tells you no with a grim look. She also tells you point blank that she wants to get laid one last time before this battle. Being in the somewhat scattered mind frame that you’re in right now, you ask who the candidate is.

A couple hours later, you have your answer. Before you leave her room, she asks you to play a song for her after all. It’s the one she asked to play before. The one her mother sang to her.

As you play she noticeably begins to weep. She doesn’t attempt to hide it. You stop playing and hold her until she calms down which eventually she does and composes herself.

She gives no further information and simply tells you to go back to your post and to carry on as if nothing happened. You do so without pressing the issue.

A week passes and the undead horde arrives. It’s much bigger than anyone expected, and even worse, the Great Lich Lord himself is leading this attack.

Now your mind suddenly comes back to grips with reality.

The undead horde surrounds and storms the city. An attempt is made to kill the Great Lich Lord, but he merely gets back up from the hail of gunfire and arrows that strike him.

Soon the gates are compromised. You order your troops to take to the streets and fight off the invading hordes with the rest of the soldiers. You do likewise, though now you’re really wondering about a way to try to escape. Its no use though, the dead are everywhere butchering anything alive. You kill one walking corpse and five more take its place.

In one particular brutal sneak attack, a ghoul jumps from a rooftop and tackles you. You feel a paralyzing bite as it sinks its teeth into you. Darkness soon takes you and you begin you new mindless undead life afterwards.


You know that this is most likely a losing battle, but some hope might be gained, if you can somehow draw out the knights and specters and get them by themselves. As powerful as they are, they’re very hard to control even by necromancers and get easily agitated by living creatures.

You can’t do it alone though. You take your best archers and a couple of your best wizards and mention your plan. You don’t ask for volunteers, you just assign. You’re in charge and you have to make the hard decisions, even if it might mean you’ll die. They don’t look enthused, but you aren’t either.

You tell everyone else to hold their ground while you and your small platoon ride towards the horde.

“Ready those blessed silvers men, and you robe wearers melt those dead tin cans!”

You get close enough and you unleash as many blessed silver arrows as you can at the Blood Specters. You kill a few. The wizards don’t do quite as well with the knights. However, both attacks are enough.

You see the Specters and Knights making whatever unearthly noises they do and begin to advance towards you far ahead of the slower yet steady moving horde. It apparent that the necromancer controlling them is attempting to bring them back under control, because they begin to squirm back and forth which gives you some more time to kill a few more during their confusion. Eventually the necromancer must give up total control because they stop squirming and advance upon you once again.

You ride back as quickly as possible with the Specters and Knights in full pursuit. You didn’t expect those Specters to be so fast. A few of them manage to catch up to some of your men with grisly results. You yourself almost get smacked upside the head by a Death Knight mace. When you get back in range the rest of your awaiting army deals with your pursuers. More blessed arrows fly into the Blood Specters before they can do anymore harm, and eventually the Death Knights are brought down as well.

There is no time for a reprieve though, as the main horde is now almost upon you. You order a regrouping as best you can, and face the enemy, telling if possible for someone to aim for the necromancer in all of this rotting mess.

Bones and limbs from both sides are broken and hacked off. A zombie skull is smashed, splashing maggots, blood and brains all over you and you’re not even thinking about it. You just have a tune in your head to take yourself away from the massacre. Somehow in all of the chaos, you single out the necromancer leading this army, he stands a far piece away from the main fighting, but he’s arrogant enough to be close enough for you to hit him with an arrow.

And you have to hit him now. You see a Grand Alliance soldier who just took a fatal blow to the chest begin to rise…

Not many arrows left and not much time, you just load up and shoot, hoping you hit the bastard.

Your shot is straight and true. It strikes the necromancer in the stomach, causing him to fall back, which in turn causes the undead horde to momentarily stop their vicious attacks, giving your side a chance to turn the tide a bit.

Then you shoot another arrow when you see the necromancer attempt to get back up, which turns the tide completely in your favor. Zombies and skeletons fall. Ghouls flee at the loss of leadership and any remaining undead are quickly dispatched. You don’t take chances though. You walk up to the corpse of the necromancer and shoot your last arrow directly into his head and stab him a few times.

You then start laughing.

“If this was the Great Lich Lord, I’d be a real hero right now!”

You quickly sober up from this macabre outburst when you hear shouting from some of your men and you look up.

It’s another horde. Just as big. You look behind you and see that your own numbers are completely insufficient. The Garwold citizens are either mostly dead or demoralized at this point.

Even when you win…you lose.

Having no real options, you sound a retreat to fall back to the Zalan border and suggest that the Garwold citizens do likewise as there is nothing more for them here.

The Garwold Confederacy is now just one more loss for the living. The Zalan Empire won’t be far behind.

Three years pass…

Ten years since the Nuro incident and The Grand Alliance is nearly just consisting of the Zalan Empire now, which in turn has had to adapt a siege mentality. There is no “going on the offensive” anymore. You’re purely on defense.

Your brother Mallack died two years ago. Transferred to a location with more fighting due to lack of manpower. Like it matters. Didn’t even get to say goodbye. You can only hope he didn’t become one of those things…but you know he probably did.

You’ve been urging your family to run where it’s safer, but of course they won’t budge. The undead have been penetrating deeper into Zalan territory, you know it’s only a matter of time before the Great Lich Lord decides to stop toying with you and makes his full scale attack.

Sure enough it happens. Town after town is taken; you’re pushed back further and further, and you know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

An order is given to everyone to fallback to the capital and help defend it from an upcoming attack, but at this point you’re just wondering if the rest of your family is still alive.
> You go to your family
Really, it’s the only thing that makes any kind of sense anymore. This war is lost there’s not even any doubt about it. Hope is fleeting and if this is truly it, then it’s going to be with the ones you did this for in the first place.

Your small groups of soldiers wonder where you’re going and you flat out tell them, in fact you tell them more than that.

“I’m going home, and I suggest if any of you have any family you go to them as well. This is it folks, there’s no happy ending here. It’s been a pleasure serving with all of you.”

You then ride home as quickly as possible.

The farm is scattered with undead. They attack and in some cases eat the livestock, while attempting to get into your house. Dead Zalan soldiers can be seen, except they aren’t properly dead like they should be. The farmhouse is being attacked and you can see your sister firing her pistol at the zombies from one of the broken windows. You trample a couple of the zombies with your horse and kill couple more with your bow, but eventually you dismount and chop up the remaining ones near the farm house, since you want to save your arrows for anything potentially more dangerous.

“Quick get inside through this window, the door is barricaded.” your sister Randi shouts when she sees you.
“No! It’s a death trap to stay now! This place is lost! You all have to come with me!” you shout back, keeping an eye on the advancing zombies.
“Can’t Mom’s hurt pretty bad. Got stabbed by one those corpses. We can’t move her. Help’s gotta come soon…”
“NO, it won’t Randi! The capitol of Zalan is being attacked as we speak! I came home to get your guys! This is the fucking end! We’ve lost! We just gotta…”

You’re interrupted when you have to cut down an advancing zombie. Your sister fires a shot at another one. Suddenly a scream from the house is heard, followed by another. That has to be Calwin, and Makana. Randi rushes from the window and you cut down another zombie before bashing the door down with relative ease.

More screaming is heard along with growling this time. You look around and run down the hallway where Randi is standing motionless. She’s dropped her pistol.

You push her aside and see your other sister Makana dead on the floor and then a quick scan to the left and you see your mother eating Calwin.

She’s one of those things…

You act where Randi failed and give a killing blow to the thing that was once your mother.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper and her blood splashes across your face.

Now you’re ready to get the hell out of the house, but Randi is still standing there motionless.

“COME ON! WE GOTTA GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!” you shout.
“Yeah...okay…” Randi says and begins to move like she’s in slow motion and picks up her flintlock.

You run past Randi in the hallway who’s still moving slowly.

“Randi get your ass mov…”

You hear a gunshot behind you. Followed by the slumping of a lifeless body. You don’t even turn around, you don’t want to see.

When you get outside, surprisingly the undead haven’t become unmanageable yet, and you cut down another couple with relative ease. Your horse unfortunately has run off, you’re on foot from here.

You don’t even know where to go. Where is it going to be safe? Nowhere, but you lack any other ideas, so you just head for unclaimed wilderness.

After about a day of running, hiding and maneuvering, you’re in a relatively safe location and that’s when you finally allow yourself to grieve for the loss of your family. You weep.

You’ve lost everything now. Everything you did was basically for them, and now they’re all gone. You don’t know if you can even continue. What would be the point? The world seems to be doomed anyway.

But then after you think about it, you decide that if death is taking over the world, you’re not going to make it easy. Death has already taken everything away from you except your life, and you’re going to hold on to that as long as possible. You’re going to live for your family and all the others that can’t any longer.

You’re going to survive, because ultimately that’s what you’ve always done. You’ve cheated death more than once already and you’ll continue to do it. Death itself is going to have to hunt you down if it wants your life.

After reaching this conclusion, you try to think of where you should go next. Going to any type of centers of civilization is out of the question now. You’d only have to move again, them being targets now.

So it’s the life of wanderer now. The question is where would be best? The forests aren’t exactly safe, but you’re more familiar with surviving in them. The mountains might be a little safer, but living in them is going to be a lot harsher.
> You stick to the forests
Running from the undead, only to die of starvation and the cold in the mountains isn’t your idea of survival. You’re sticking to familiar terrain. You travel further away from civilization and ultimately deeper into a large forest. You’re not exactly sure of where you’re at, but you know you’ve left the Zalan borders. You’re probably in the unclaimed area north of the Retlad province. You never patrolled that far when you were stationed there, so you’re unsure of what to expect. You’ll certainly have to be alert though.

A few weeks pass and you’ve got the hang of it. A few close calls with an Eberaw Hunter, but you’ve managed to make somewhat of a home for yourself. You mainly sleep in the trees. You get water from springs and small streams and as for food, well you always were good at hunting.

You pass the time playing your mandolin and just basically keeping watch. As the days pass by though, you get the impression that someone is watching YOU.

It’s not any undead though. You haven’t seen any in weeks. You haven’t come across any living creatures of higher intelligence either, but then again that doesn’t mean they aren’t around…

“Hello stranger. Do you like our forest?” you hear a small voice say.

You look around, but see nothing. You guess who ever it is, is invisible, and you nearly go for your weapon.

“Please, no need for that. You are among friends here, musical one.” The voice says and then you see your unseen host appears before you. She’s very small and probably only comes up to ankle. You’ve heard of fairies before, but you’ve never seen one.

“Are you a fairy?” you ask.
“We go by many different names. Technically I am a pixie, but if you prefer, fairy will do. We heard you playing over the weeks and I thought it was about time we told you our appreciation for it. We didn’t know you big people had gifts for it. You are human are you not?”
“Yes, and thanks.”
“So, what brings you out here? Are you a ranger perhaps? You seem to have skills about you that are useful in this environment.”
“No, not a ranger. Just trying to escape death like everyone else I suppose.”
“Hmm, you realize as beautiful as this forest is, it’s not without its dangers. Death is here as well, but I’m sure you know that.”
“Yes, but its at least reasonable. There aren’t zombies and wraiths terrorizing the place…well at least not yet…”
“What are you talking about stranger?” the pixie asks quizzically, you look a little surprised yourself.

“The Great Lich Lord of course. He’s destroying everything, and I dunno how he’s going to be stopped. I don’t think he can.”

Your words immediately make the pixie’s cheerful demeanor change immediately.

“…he’s returned?! But he was killed centuries ago! My clan has told the stories for generations!”
“Well, he’s back, or someone like him…you really didn’t know? I mean this war with him has been going on for years now. Ten to be precise. Don’t you leave this forest?”
“You must understand stranger, we have everything we want here. There is no need to leave. We also live in illusions, what you see now, is not necessarily what is. We remain hidden in our illusions so nobody may ever harm us and we can live our lives in relative isolation. It is only on rare occasions that we reveal ourselves.”
“But I’ve heard stories about your kind being elsewhere or even in cities.” You say.
“Well we are not the only fairy folk you know! Perhaps the others you heard of were sprites, or brownies or even a different clan of pixies. I can only speak for my clan and as far as I know we are the only fairy folk that live in this particular forest. There are other denizens of course, but thanks to our illusions we stay safely hidden. Even the occasional human or goblinoid that has wandered in here has not disturbed us. Quite frankly, you’d be the first person in centuries that we’ve revealed ourselves to.”
“There aren’t any elves in this forest?” you ask, sort of figuring that some might have retreated or made a home here, forests being their natural homes and all. Your question is met with slight annoyance.

“Most certainly not! This place has been elf free for millennia and hopefully stays that way! I’ll speak no more of this elven nonsense!”

You don’t press the issue, but up until now you figured fairy folk and elves were all friends, guess not. The pixie changes the subject since she wants to know more about this Great Lich Lord business and says her name is Qweet. Qweet tells you that she will return with the rest of her clan, as she will not reveal their home of course. In a somewhat playful yet firm tone she also warns you not to try to follow her, though as good of a tracker you are you doubt if you could anyway since she turns invisible again.

While you wait, you still can’t believe she and the rest of her clan don’t know anything about what’s going on; you almost envy them for living in blissful ignorance for the last ten years. You also feel like you’ve ruined things for them.

Eventually more pixies return and you tell them what’s been going on. They are saddened, but maintain a confident demeanor. They are certain that they will survive this plague due to their illusions. They explain that if need be they can hide the entire forest, which with the new grim information you gave them they are very inclined to do. They still have to discuss it.

In the meantime they say they hope you’ll stick around for awhile as they still enjoy your playing and you aren’t destroying the forest. You’re just glad you’ve met some friendly people that aren’t trying to kill you. It’s a nice change and after what you’ve been through recently, you welcome it.

One year passes…

Your time in the pixie forest has been relatively safe. Other than the occasional aggressive forest beasts, you haven’t had to do much combat. It’s been a relief. You’ve enjoyed the company of the pixies as well.

However, your natural curiosity has gotten the better of you on occasion and you have made a few trips outside of the forest.

You travel as far as the Retlad province and the first obscure village you stumble across is completely decimated, with undead roaming around. The scary part about it is this is very recent looking, which means they’re starting to head your way.

It’ll start with the occasional zombie or skeleton wandering in. Then more will come. How long before an army arrives? Again due to your information, Qweet and the rest of her clan have made the final decision to hide their forest entirely. They tell you that they would like you to stay. You would even be allowed to see their true home. The only stipulation is that you would not be able to leave. The illusion wouldn’t just hide the forest, but it would create a barrier preventing entry or exit. You can’t imagine how it would look to those on the outside of the forest.

Appealing to be sure, but as much as you like the company of the pixies, you don’t think it will be safe to dwell in their forest for too much longer, illusions or not. The Gnomes back in the Garwold Confederacy had some excellent illusionists as well, and it didn’t help them.
> You stay in the forest
This is probably the most satisfied you’ve been in a long time. Why bother running anymore? You’re not going to be any happier elsewhere as you eek out an existence. This is a place where you can play your music and have a regular appreciative audience. Perhaps the pixie illusion will fail, perhaps it won’t, but this is your home now.

“Queet, I’m staying.”
“That’s wonderful!” she squeaks.

The pixies go through with their plan of hiding the entire forest. They explain that for everyone else it will look like a rock mass and the magic shield will prevent entry in case someone bumps into the “rock”. Creatures inside will only see more forest outside the barrier and will probably be baffled to as why they can’t go any further, but will probably not make any serious attempt to do so even if they could.

The pixies also allow you to enter their little village. Naturally you’re much bigger, but a special arrangement is made so that you can stay nearby and they build you a tree-house of sorts and provide meals and drink for you.

Life with the pixies full time is relatively nice. Of course a few are prone to play jokes on you sometimes, you don’t get mad about it and they usually make up for it later. A few years pass and it gets to the point where you almost forget about what’s going on outside the forest since almost everyday is a pixie party filled with merriment and music. There’s one particular time when there was a brief magical disturbance in the illusion, but the pixies managed to correct it. It does cause you to get concerned, but the pixies still insist that you not worry.

After fifteen some odd years pass, the forest begins to signs of unnatural decay, and forest creatures seem to be dying way before their time.

Some of the pixies have made comments of not feeling themselves, which is very odd since being fairy creatures they don’t normally get sick. You haven’t been feeling up to your usual standards either. You at first chalked it up to age, but you know that it’s more than that. The Great Lich Lord’s influence has finally penetrated the illusion. Death is creeping in.

The months pass and the illusion begins to break down despite attempts to keep it up. At last for the first time in years you see the “outside world” again. It’s desolate and bleak. The Great Lich Lord has been thorough in his conquest of the world and with this new found green patch, it won’t be long before it becomes as dead as the rest of the landscape.

Perhaps because they’re magical creatures of nature, the pixies cannot withstand this death aura as well as you can, and they begin dying. Their illusions and happy lush world utterly destroyed.

“Wh…why is this happening?” are Queet’s last delirious words before she expires.

One by one they all die. You weep as you can do nothing for them. Nobody can. Once again you’ve lost another family. You wish you’d left the damn forest long ago just so you hadn’t deluded yourself and gotten so attached to the pixies only to watch them die.

However, you decide that this place will be your last stand as well and you’re too tired to run even if there was anywhere safe to run to anyway. You fight off undead creatures for a couple months as you attempt to survive in this now dying forest, but ultimately you’re overwhelmed and killed.

Sadly, unlike your pixie friends, you are not allowed to rest in peace as you wander the landscape in search of the last remnants of life to destroy in the Great Lich Lord’s service.