The little village was quiet now. The homes and shops all vacant and dark. Like the chill wind that screeched through the streets, stirring up dead leaves, had snatched away all signs of life. even at the edge of one's vision, they could see fog crawling in and thickening. Nature itself was strangling the last few desperate gasps of life from this soon-to-be necropolis. The sun had sank below the horizon, but close enough to turn the normally blue sky a rapidly darkening purple. As if to hint that her influence was still here, even when light itself seems to have abandoned this place.

The last bastion of life was in the small shrine. for a little over a month now the villagers had been falling to illness. It started with fatigue, until whatever it was sapped the victim's will to even breath. The victims all tended to die malnourished and dehydrated, despite only being ill for a couple weeks. The ever expanding burial mounds were faithfully consecrated by the village's priest, who'd taken the place of their local "doctor".

He had fallen victim to something. The first incident caused them to go to the little shack on the outskirts of town. the only inhabitant an elderly man who was some form of herbalist or alchemist from Lomedor. He'd always been friendly for the most part, helping people for small fees in the form of ingredients for his vast collections of elixirs. what the villagers found was an open door and a bedroom with bloodstained sheets.

His corpse never turned up.

Fearing the worse, they had dispatched messengers to Lomedor with what valuables they had. The young men had been ordered to find the group called BADI and hire someone to help their town in their ailment. They really couldn't think of anything else, having only heard small bits of the now-deceased doctor's ramblings of the legendary Guild. All that was left, was to pray to Lothlomendil and bury the dead.

That had been weeks ago, and no sign of BADI agents or their messengers returned. There was less than a twentieth of the population left living now. Nobody kept up the facade of normal life as they did before. Fields were left untended, letting weeds grow virulently. Animals were slaughtered and consumed in bouts of drunken revelries meant to ease the nerves and block out the cries of the afflicted with the laughter of the living. The handful of souls left here were gaunt, with shadows under their eyes from the sleepless nights. The weeks or worrying if they were next and the lost of loved ones ahd taken their toll. More than a few had taken their own lives or stormed off into the wilds.

None of them returned, despite whatever they spoke of. And if outsiders searched the misty forest enough, they'd find scattered corpses of individuals who seemed to have died of hunger and thirst by wandering aimlessly.

Those who were left had become desperate, begging the priest to use whatever arcane lore he knew. Regardless of the price. If it cost them their lives, so what? Their families were dead, the village they had stayed with to keep alive was a skeleton. There smut be something he can do to cure their ails, the cost be damned.

The good priest did try to sway them from this seemingly suicidal point of view, assuring them that faith in their goddess was the only weapon they had now there was nothing to do but wait with their devotion so that the truly faithful may be saved. Those please fell on deaf ears. None of them would hear of anymore waiting. They wanted results. Now.

It was odd to her, even now watching these events unfold. It had been terrifying, the first outbreak of this plague and the death of the alchemist. She'd actually went straight to the priest while the rest of the townspeople deliberated what to do. She confronted her teacher whether or not he had a hand in this. It was in the dank little crypt beneath the shrine that the old man told her the truth with a grin. The same grin he wore on his face when she used her first spell to animate a severed hand, the same grin he wore when he caught the curious girl spying on him at night. It was a Cheshire cat smile, the teeth of a demon.

With reassurance, he quieted her concerns. He was indeed causing this plague, but only for the best. To continue with his teachings, they needed larger spaces and more subjects. Naturally, necromancy is looked down upon particularly violently. did she want to return to a mundane life full of fabric and thread making clothing for a town no one knew about? Or did she want power, to bring the dead back to life and prove themselves more powerful than the gods.

To escape mortality and gain ever-lasting life.

Her conviction was unyielding, even as her friend fell sick and died. Even when her Mother became afflicted and passed away. It hurt to be without their love or warmth, and to see how much it hurt the others around here. Soon though, soon they'd all live again and would never be angry or upset ever again. She couldn't tell them that though, they would be frightened of undeath after life, so it had to be done forcibly.

So now here she was, watching the remaining townspeople, her father included, badgering the priest to help them. There was a slight twitch on her face, having an idea what was coming shortly when her teacher agreed to do so. she wasn't a very pretty girl, having calloused fingers from constantly getting jabbed by needles. Long, straight and plain brown hair with a pair of blue eyes. Her smiles were always slight on her freckled face, joy never really felt from boredom of her surroundings and the dreams of her parents.

There was a pause of breath as the priest instructed them to sit down, as if in prayer. Likewise she mirrored their movements, recognizing the words the priest began reciting. It was a spell, a necromantic one. Some of the villagers fidgeted, uneasy at the cold feeling the "prayer" gave off. It was the sounds of shuffling that alerted them. As one they stood up and turned towards the doorway while the priest shrank back slightly. She herself slid into a corner, sliding down slightly at was about to happen.

In the doorway, barely illuminated by the candles inside, was one of the villagers. His clothing filthy, the skin pale and withered, and the jaw hanging open from a lack of life. He was Farris Thayet, he'd been dead for almost a week now. Only now, he was there with the living. Shuffling closer, his dead lungs working into a groaning sound that might have been words if his mouth could move beyond opening and closing. Much like a fish. Other villagers began coming towards the shrine, hearing the beckoning call of their master.

She wasn't certain what happened or who did what, but their was a scream and the still living humans fought off the zombies, using what things they could. A torch, a censor, anything. Someone, from the voice it sounded like her father, said something about the priest. It was then she looked up from her huddled position, taking her hands off her ears. In time to see her dad drawing a whittling knife and going straight for her teacher. Half-jumping into a stumbled crawl her knees smacked the stone floor painfully and her left hand slapped the ground for support while the right extended pitifully with a screech "Stop!"

She didn't know before, and might not have understood it then, but he truly did love her. His body subconsciously responded to her shout, freezing him in place and turning to face her, worry etched across his wrinkled and tired face. they exchanged a look for but a moment, then there was a slick noise of steel and he became twisted with pain. Looking back, the priest had plunged a metal dagger deep into his chest, piercing his heart. with a fatal wound, his legs gave out and fell into the other man's grasp who laid him out gently.

There was a hollow pit in her stomach now. she had cried before, but now now. there wasn't even a moistening of the eyes, but why? She loved her family, but why couldn't she shed a tear over what she'd just done!? She had killed him. Not with the actual blade, but if she hadn't spoken...he'd still be alive.

With a swift motion her teacher was knelt beside her, taking her still extended arm into his cold and weathered hands before pushing it down. Putting a hand onto her head he ran it through her hair, stroking it while her distant gaze looked up at him. Slowly losing the glassy sheen of shock. "do not worry child, remember? Death is just a small phase, your family will be with you soon enough."

So engrossed by what'd happened, she didn't notice the screaming or yelling just a few feet away as the remaining villagers lost the fight against the zombies. Being mobbed down and devoured or dragged out and torn apart. To her, those deaths were inconsequential. the only other life she had left to care about was that of a master and an apprentice's...

Never did Zekhen envisioned his life to be so busy, he barely had time for himself. It all started with the day when he joined the beloved Bureau, or more commonly known as B.A.D.I., one, if not the most popular guild of Ea. However, as much of a stranger he felt within the safe haven of Lómëdor, these years spent away from the waste proved to be benefic for his development not only by physical means but the aspects of his mind as well. The greatest gift has been granted to him in the shape of knowledge, and a late enlightenment. For once, he did see everything around him as hostile and a potential threat, he had even come to prize his elven heritage which granted him many years to learn and evolve.

‘I will not become a memory…’That was his greatest fear, he wanted to have a place of his own on the pages of time, rather than become dust, blown into oblivioun by the winds of life.

---

Every single member of the guild had a busy schedule as of late as more and more missions came their way due to the fact that they were open to the public and were likely to accept any contracts that did not go against their principles. Regardless of what other thought, the Bureau was yet to experience its best of days, or at least that’s how it seemed from inside.
Zekhen found himself teamed up with Geis Coldfur for a second time, not in a mission of such amplitude as their last, a contract on the name of “Northern Guard’, but for a simple errand: they were supposed to deliver an envelope to a local landlord, both of them… The tanned elf couldn’t comprehend the meaning behind this, why two warriors were needed for this when a messenger of the guild could have done it much faster and without so many headaches. However, it was not in his nature to question his job, so he tagged along and accepted.

It seemed like one of those normal days, nothing announced the events that destiny had in store for them later that day, nothing, before he appeared…

The man was skinny and seemed fatigued beyond common sense, weakened by either illness or a very long journey, he fell into the arms of the desert elf, as he was just leading his horse by the reins out of the land of the local lord. The event caught Zekhen unprepared, but he was trained to deal with any situation. Slowly, the man was placed onto the ground and he tried to get as much information as he could from him.

“What happened to you?” Asked he, but the man was not able to respond for the first few seconds as his eyes seemed captivated by the badge that adorned the elf’s cape, by no means he could be mistaking, this was indeed one of the B.A.D.I. members.

“Help…” came the reply, in silent and fading words. “you must help… the Village…” he tried to reach to his still intact bag of gold, the very few the villagers managed to gather so they could employ some agents to release them from the plague in which their hometown succumbed. The name of his village was the last word that the man could manage before he passed out as if he was dead. For a wile, Zekhen just stared at the dying villager, pondering on the next course of actions, he forgot about Geis and failed to notice what he was doing, and even if he was nearby at all.

He said, silently, before taking a deep breath.[color=white] “I will!” This time he seemed certain about his words, and rose to his feet. Further on, he walked over to a another man that happened to be nearby while the whole scene unfolded, and persuaded him with a gold coin to take care of the village messenger or take him to someone that could do it in his place.

With this out of the way, and the conscience that he did everything in his power to save the man, Zekhen quickly got into the saddle and was ready to action. His eyes finally found the frame of his ‘partner’.
“Geis, I have a strange feeling about this, I feel something vile is in the middle of this, or it could be a trap whatsoever, but I still want to go and investigate. If you return to the headquarters tell them that I will be late, and if you decide to come along, then I will meet you there. The longer we wait the worse this will be.” His words awaited no reply, no words or expressions, he just tensed his mount by pulling the reins with force and spurred it into a mad race towards the village.

---

At the expense of a fatigued horse, the journey did not take long, as the capital city and the small villager were not too far one from the other. Zekhen arrived soon to experience a scene worthy of the plagued land of a graveyard, it seemed that the whole village has been zombified, and the few survivors were attacked by those who once were their friends and family. Who or what could have been behind this, maybe a necromancer of either great power or stupidity. This, however, was not something to be messed with, from the very first second he stepped within the borders of the settlement, his trusted bow was prepared. He headed towards the center from which the screams of agony came, then he saw it, an undead trying to murderer a defenseless mother and her child.
Investigation was over, it was time for some action. A first arrow was notched into the bowstring – pulled with all of his strength for maximum accuracy.

“Bless this arrow, oh Mother of Life, so I can do your bidding and eradicate this plague from the face of Ea.” He was not very religious by nature, but nevertheless he invoked the goddess, she was the only one that could have helped him now.
The arrow was released, howling in its flight as it cut the air – the hit was perfect, and very precise, it stuck into the head of the zombie and the undead instantly began to burn in holy fire, a second one followed as it tried to charge towards his direction.
The blessing has been granted to his ammunition, now he felt more powerful, he had a real chance against those minions. All the attention was turned on him.

“Come what may…” He whispered, and waited.

((gah... crappy))

Another failure.

Subterfuge was not a game that Geis liked to play and as the scrawny lupine considered this newest waste of time, the sober realization that this was a game that he was losing at slowly crept up his spine. For a lupine it was a rather small example of such an important collection of bones and the man-wolf creature it belonged to measured no taller than the average human (this was not entirely true, in Geis' experience most humans were significantly larger than from the memories he had remembered from the clan Bones) and weighed even less. This, however, was a reality easily explained- his clan had once been afflicted by the plague, and like most diseases it had left its mark upon the survivors. This particular lupine merely had the good fortune of having this particular mark exist on both the physical and mental plane. Incapable of becoming an even passable hunter he had learned the ways of Lore. And for Lore he had traveled to the Southern lands, a Northern Lupine in search of Knowledge.

Of knowledge he had found but little, however Geis had made an important discovery: the whereabouts of one missing clan guardian. Her name had been Aquis before she had vanished- and she had been an archelemental of astonishing grace and power. That, of course, had been before Geis had discovered her. When he had found her she seemed... broken. A puppet with its strings cut, a butterfly with its wings pulled... a child with a broken mind. He had tried to help, had done his best to keep an open eye for her when she was lucid, prevented others (more or less) from exploiting or enslaving her- had even managed to make the small, tired elemental smile every now and then. Every instance had been completely unexpected and more often than not due to Geis' rather ineffectual abilities in the realm of self-defense but they still seemed like events worth noting. He had once cherished the notion that he would be able to somehow repair her broken mind, let her resume her former duties...

And then, somehow, Aquis had disappeared again. And Geis, inexperienced in such realms, was forced to resort to subterfuge in order to find her. It had not been something Geis had been proud of but he, and he had to acknowledge it, had been naive. The world was a far larger, far darker place than he had remembered. And even though he could not return to the clan (that was another story altogether) he should have somehow managed to contrive a way to get the precious guardian back in the land of her birth where the wind, and the sky and the air would heal her more effectively than anything a mere loremaster could dream up. So now he was reduced to begging B.A.D.I. to send him to every farflung mission the organization could dream up. Had he been more trusting, had he let go of the crazy belief that the organization had captured his elemental companion for nefarious schemes, he might have told them the truth about his suddenly eclectic preferences in where he wished to be sent. But the truth was that he did not trust, dared not trust. Guilt and suspicion was a dark spiral, as well he knew but it was an insidious poison and he suspected all.

His companion, a furhead horseman and warrior of some small repute with whom he had worked with on previous occasions had not seemed overly surprised at the fact that a team of two were being delegated the role of mere messengers. Perhaps he appreciated Geis' small repertoire of healing abilities, perhaps he was glad for the company. Whatever the case, the two of them had set out and made good progress. Or rather, the Guild's mission had undergone good progress. As for Geis' self-appointed task of discovering Aquis' whereabouts, not a trace was revealed in his rigorously concealed questionings. Someone else, someone more capable would have been able to make the necessary inquiries and avoided this heartache and legwork. Then again, someone more suitable would not have lost his clan's guardian either and be forced to schlup around the continent on foot looking for her.

One succesfully delivered message later and Geis was no closer to discovering Aquis than before. Still, he had learned patience while delving into the mysteries of Lore. He would be patient here too in his searches. The clan's guardian deserved no less from the descendant of those whom she had once protected. She was more than just a friend or protector, after all... she was clan. And like any clan member he would die for her, just as she might have once died for them. Bonds closer than that of kin- that was what it meant to be Clan. Of course, he was not one of the clan anymore despite his sacrifice...

It was during such musings- no doubt his partner had been slightly put off by his numerous moments of silence- that Geis had first smelled death. Not just death on its own- but the violent upheaval of broken spirits. Necromancy. He growled low in his throat. The Northern lupines shared their space grudgingly with the ice dragons and the dwarves and some of the small barbarian encampments of the less well adapted races but the cold climate, combined with plentiful, untapped resources of corpses frozen in time attracted the worst sort of practitioner. Wars that would go forever unrecorded in the annals of time had pitted the northern races against these magick-wielders time and time again. If any could be considered their natural enemies it was them.

Geis growled low in his throat when the furhead appeared. The signs were all too clear. Someone had decided to meddle with that which did not concern them. Even as the man fell the lupine rushed forwards, hoping to save, hoping to avert what he knew would happen. He felt, somehow, that Aquis was looking over him as he did so. Still, he knew the signs. The man would not survive. From his belt he uncorked a bottle, brewed from plants that he had collected he let a small trickle flow into the terrifyingly mortal man's mouth. It would not save him from the transition to the darkest night, but it would ease it. He watched the horseman barter with another and shook his head. Best not dissuade him. They would soon be traveling to a place of darkness- he could feel it in the bones he carried. There was no need to create more before the journey had even begun. And when his partner turned to him, Geis nodded grimly. He would arrive an hour- perhaps many hours- behind his companion but that was not what mattered. The dead walked. And Geis would go to greet them.