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The Night Is Always Darkest Before The Dawn

Timestamp
Era XXVI - Autumn
Location
The Sherian
Content Warnings
Necromancy, Language, Gore
The logistics of how this tower was bigger on the inside, than the miniscule proportions outwardly, would have to wait for another day. Namely, one where she wasn't trying to kill it's master.

Clunk clunk! Well, she lost the element of stealth when the Banshee's wail ripped through the tower. Probably fine.

She snapped her eyes to the Ghouls. Specifically, the ones that descended the stairwell "You there!" Vireylda hissed, making for the creatures. "I would speak to you!" If required she would follow them down too!
 
Up and down the Ghouls went, the stairwells leading in directions that made zero real sense based off what Vireylda had seen of Agar’s Spire’s dimensions on the outside. It certainly didn’t align with the lower floors that the Esh’lahier Necromancer had already ascended thus far.

The three Ghouls, each transfixed on the spot as they eyed Vireylda. Of the four (well, eight given the Death Knights lumbering behind Vree), only Vireylda was out of place and sticking out like a sore thumb really.

Ancient tapestries on the walls, moth eaten and decaying, mouldy food upon tables, neglected and fuzzy. The illumination from Vree’s Staff of Arcana providing more sense of the surroundings. An old banquet hall that had fallen to ruin perhaps.

“גול?" the solitary Ghoul returning, calling back out to Vireylda in confusion.
 
Oh. She forgot about the language barrier.

She had some parchment in her pack, and a simple stick of charcoal would be enough to write with. Vireylda messily scrawled. "Agar?" With an arrow pointing up. Maybe they could understand written words?

If not, well, back up the stairs?
 
The Ghouls, all kinds of wary but like a wasp in a bee’s nest? Once within, Vireylda was largely treated as someone that was supposed to belong within Agar’s Spire. At least by those not under his more direct control anyway. Allies, even grotesque eaters of flesh such as the Ghouls were not going to start anything without being certain.

All Vree needed really was a cap, a grey coat and a clipboard and she could probably go anywhere within the Spire without anything more than a raised eyebrow.

Agar?

“אַגאַר” The Ghoul responded, long, sickly looking tongue lolling out of the corner of a mouth filled with broken, rotting teeth and breath no mint would ever be sufficient to the task at hand.

A gesture at the stairwell pointing down, before pulling out a rancid … looked like a chicken wing, definitely wasn’t a chicken wing, from one of the ghouls pockets. Maggots pouring off the meat as the Ghoul offered it to Vireylda as if no different from offering her a piece of chewing gum.

“אַגאַר אַרבעט אין די פינפט לאַבאָראַטאָריע.”
 
Oh. Lovely.

Did that mean Agar was down? Up? What hold did normal, expected physics have in this topsy-turvy world? She glanced at the meat that absolutely wasn't edible, or going anywhere near her mouth. She grasped it, while also being quite thankful she thought to wear gloves.

Well, nothing for this here. Vree scrawled the word 'thank you' in the parchment, then pointed to Agars name,, then gesturing down for confirmation. She headed back to the stairwell. What would she find going down?
 
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Language barrier for sure, and the grotesque meaty treat offered to Vireylda all the while. Maggots pouring off the rotting flesh and bones wriggling, dancing as the Ghoul offered it to Vree for a snack.

“אפֿשר זי איז אויף אַ דיעטע?” the Ghoul suggested to its companion in incredulous tones, it wasn’t as if meat was all that easy to come by within Narim these days. Foraging parties through the Network had become something of a necessity given that Agar tended to frown over cracking the marrow of the various skeletons for the good parts.

But there was an approving look as Vree grasped the meat, and the Ghoul making a ‘eat, take a bite’ gesture as it brought a hand up to its revolting mouth.

The strange foreign dialect though that Vree returned on the parchment, only for the Ghoul to gesture at the stairwell going downwards once more by way of confirmation.

And down Vree went, the Ghouls following behind her now from a distance. Curious as to what the unknown Ghoul that was Vree was going to be doing with the Orcish Necromancer.

Power hit Vree before she touched the bottom step, and a lot of it at that. A warning of sorts, a Necromancer, another Archmagus was Amplifying within the room…
 
Warning?

Vireylda could feel the power ebb and flow, like an invisible tide against her mind. Something was happening down here, she knew an Amplify when she felt it. Her fingers clenched and unclenched, repeatedly working through the nerves that ate at her. That had to be Agar. Who else would it be?

The esh'lahier stifled her fear. He had power, but so did she. Her trek through Narim would not end until Agar was defeated. That was the mission, after all, right?

Steeling herself, Vireylda made her way further down, toward the other Necromancer.
 
Behind her the two Ghouls continued to have their conversation, sounding guttural and not unlike a devilish little marsupial native to the southern lands.
“איר זיכער ער איז איינער פון אונדז?” spoke the first, only for the other that had offered Vireylda the severed, rotting hand,
“. ניט טאַקע, אָבער עס קוקט שיין הונגעריק. מייַ טאָן מיט אַ ביסל פון פלייש אויף די ביינער.”

Power was building up, constant and steady and after Vireylda had so recently undergone her own Amplification to Archmage? She was able to now see what it looked like from the outside. Immense, almost impossible truly to gauge how it compared to Vireylda’s own strength beyond ‘it was a lot.

The laboratory was almost completely empty, stone walls and floors, with the centre of the room having been filled with the scribblings of a madman. They looked almost like one of the old Pentacle of Arcana’s used for constructing a Staff of Arcana - only the entire sequence was off, randomised and unintelligible. It wouldn’t have done a thing even prior to Diana’s death when they’d actually functioned.

Seated cross-legged in the middle of it was Agar, a tiny little Orc, almost dwarven in shape, squat and barely five feet in height. Dark red eyes, pale green skin and a thick knot of scars running across its mouth; one part of the cheek cut wide open and showing a large hole where the broken teeth within could be seen.

And the spell forming about it, shadowy, Entropy eating away at the environment about the Orc; particles of floating darkness drifting before Vireylda’s sight.
 
Nev-yn was misinformed, it seemed. Either that or he purposefully misled her. The former options was more likely, as the herald had no reason to intentionally seek her failure. If anything, to her eyes, the demon took Agar's activities - and continued existence - as a personal slight. Further, his duty to Jalat bid him to assist her. He wanted Agar gone, as that was the only way to return Nightingale. That said, she would keep an eye out in the future.

If Agar could harness entropy, what else might Nev-yn have missed? Trailing wisps of shadow flowed from the growing spell like tributaries in a river. She didn't recognize it, at least not with what was available to her currently. The scribblings were nonsensical, and she knew only of Agar's specialty with undead. This spell could hold nothing good, though.

Vireylda sighed. Nothing for it. I suppose. Entropy was hers to command as well. She reached for the growing energy, attempting to stifle the spell, or at least yank control of it away from him.
 
The Herald of Jalat remained silent all the while, not wanting to do anything that might attract the two Ghoul’s attention or forewarn the former Champion of Jalat that Vireylda was nigh.

As Vireylda interposed herself into Agar’s spell and started to fight the opposing Necromancer for control over the spell, the Orc’s small frame moved with a start, the dark red eyes looking about madly for the interloper that would dare interrupt the Necromancer’s work. The guttural growl in another language, different from that which the Ghouls had used, barked at Vireylda and sounding more akin to chewing on rocks and gravel than genuine intelligible conversation.

Souls. Tens, hundreds of thousands of souls locked in the vortex. Bound to Agar’s will, and with it, holding all the Undead - or at least, all the soulless Undead within the Sherian bound to the Necromancer’s will. Mostly. Unintelligible and with very little genuine purpose, the roaming hordes of Undead in the northern half of the Sherian belonged to Agar.

Where Agar had been tasked with the steady, slow siphoning of souls into the Umblat? Instead the Orc had claimed them for his own. Bound to the Necromancer’s will, the bodies of each and every within the Sherian in turn raised, an army that could be turned loose upon the Imperium just as easily as it could sweep against the Orc Horde of WAAAAAAAGH or that of the unknown Necromancer that had raised their own strength in Taralon.

And now Vireylda had started to wrest control away from Agar as the Orc had tapped into the Vortex for reasons unknown…
 
Communication, unless he knew another language was not viable. The spell he was casting? No doubt of nefarious intent. Why Agar decided to rebuke Jalat's decree remained a mystery to her, but at this point? Likely no way of knowing. She'd marked herself as an enemy at this point, interfering with his spell. No going back. She felt the energy within the spell buck and lash out, as Agar's own will fought against hers.

"It need not be this way." She tried, and shoved more power through their tug of war. All the while, Vireylda wove her own magic. She wouldn't have tried it without the gathered jumping point Agar himself provided. He specialized in undead, so time to eliminate that power base. Intending to use the other mage himself as a focus, akin to a reagent, as this was all centered on him in the first place. Similar to when she wrested control of undead from the orc necromancer and made them her own. But this time? Vree didn't stop with one. Follow those threads of arcana, those hundreds, thousands of undead. Utilize the link given so willingly by Agar in the first place. Unleash disintegration on the minions under Agar's control, and use that same feedback loop, all that power unleashed? The entropy of death and despair that lived here within Narim, channel it into the orc as a precision strike. Obliterate him, with the same magic he sought to command.

His rule was over, and she was the one to depose him.
 
The guttural retort that made as much sense to Vireylda as her own words had to Agar. Communication at least was to prove all kinds of impossible when it came to sharing a mutual language.

Feeding power into the spell, and Agar with a nice big headstart given that he’d Amplified - there was a moment as Disintegration slammed into the small Orc, aware but unable to throw up any defences in place without losing control over his own spell that held control over the Vortex.

The startled sounds of the Ghouls behind her, realising what was going on much too late even as they barrelled towards Vireylda…

Vree’s spell connecting, just as the first Ghoul slammed into the Elf about the legs; dropping her with the crash-tackle just that little bit too late. The damage done, and the effects of Vireylda’s Disintegrate unknown given the pressing distraction that was a pair of very unhappy Ghouls and one Orc Necromancer crumbling into dust.
 
It was...done?

Vree watched as Agar crumbled into dust before her, the effects of her spell well and truly enough to obliterate him. The cast was the first time she'd tapped into such deep wells of power, inching forward into the unknown lands of the archmagus. Agar's destruction seemed so easy, so surprisingly easy, but perhaps Vree shouldn't be shocked. She'd taken him from behind, without a chance to utilize his full power. Like a coward. She thought, but banished it soon as the sentiment formed.

Of course, the two ghouls distracting her helped too. Vireylda twisted shoving her hands toward them, and summoning more power to turn them to dust as well. Nothing on the scale of the previous spell, merely an attempt to get rid of the two currently attacking her.
 
Agar’s physical form was certainly no more, little more than dust falling apart - spilling on the crude circle that he’d formed about him within the Spire.

Not that Vireylda had time for a more thorough assessment as the weight of the first Ghoul pressed down upon her as she hit the ground; the flare of pain that came from being crash-tackled so. Bruises, all too likely featuring within Vireylda’s future upon arms and legs as she summoned forth more power.

Only for the other Ghoul to lash out with a foot, hitting Vireylda full in the ribs and breaking her concentration - unravelling the spell and sending the fragments of magic scattering wildly about them.

She’d bested one of the strongest Archmage Necromancer’s in the Imperium through guile and timing, and now? Was being beaten to a pulp by what amounted to the kind of thugs that hung around cemeteries looking for their next meal.

Her Staff of Arcana off to the side, fallen from when she’d been tackled, the low glow of the rod all that illuminated the chamber.
 
To come so far, best her foe, and be laid low by his minions. Vireylda huddled into a ball as they battered her, waiting for the opportune moment. Summoning any amount of proper magic was beyond her at this point, but that was the reason for her extra preparations before. Her imbued ring remained ready and primed, which as she jerked her hand up and out, she released at the assailing ghouls. A wave of entropic energy intended to blast them into dust!
 
Vireylda’s ribs cracked, a foot impacting hard enough to knock the breath out of her. Again and again the blows landed, battering at the Esh’lahier with a strength that belied their own emancipated frames that were distended and bloated with hunger. The first effort to bring up her Imbuement was met with a crack across the wrist,

But a window came, a moment between the beating that Vireylda was subjected to before she was able to lash out with the Imbuement.

There was but a moment frozen in time, the startled surprise as the Necromatic Magics were unleashed upon the pair of Ghouls.

And then there was only silence as the corpse dust of their bodies rained down upon Vireylda.

Alone within the chamber, illuminated only by her Staff of Arcana and in that moment? There too was the token realisation that the storm, the vortex of energy about Narim and Agar’s Spire had gone utterly quiet.
 
In the stillness, Vireylda cradled whatever was left of her battered pride. She lay there, cheek against the cool of the stone floor, taking deep, painful breaths. A haggard laugh ripped it's way out of her chest, only to die as it sputtered out into a pained wheeze. Vireylda rose slowly and with difficulty, crawling on all fours until she gripped the reassuring wood of her staff. With something to steady her, Vree rose.

She heard the staccato echo of her breathing in the silence, labored from her ordeal. Without fear of being interrupted, Vireylda spoke to it. "That seemed too easy." The elf said, waiting for Nev-yn's response to come. As Vree searched the room readied herself on the chance more magic was required. She looked down at the pile of dust left by Agar's crumbled form, and gathered it in a small container. Dead he was, but perhaps she could use it in the future?

Did anything stick out to her in this room? If not, amid the overbearing silence, she'd leave the room.
 
On the upside? No witnesses (Nev-yn aside!) The perks of the Necromancer: nobody was alive to tell the tale of how Vireylda had managed to best Agar and so could fashion any story she so wished. Short of the Herald of Jalat blabbing, it was a short list indeed of souls that could actually bring the former Champion of Jalat back to the realm of the living - and most importantly? This one wouldn’t be allowed to slip free.

Nev-yn’s presence within Vireylda’s shadow had vanished completely during her being subjected to the beat-down. The Demon of Jalat having collected what he’d come for and his association with Vireylda for now complete.

One more wayward soul that had escaped Judgement had been collected.

There would be no response in the here and now from the Herald of Jalat.

Agar’s dust claimed, for all that it appeared no different from any other corpse. Infused in small part with a touch of Entropy - but more to do with it being the byproduct of Vireylda’s sneak attack rather than anything innate to the former Orc.

Within the chamber, there remained the runic circle and Agar’s own short little staff of arcana that was little more than two feet in length and looked more skin to a log suited for firewood than magical workings. In the crude capstone, a skull had been shaped where a ruby and an emerald were located in each eye socket respectively.
 
Silence her only answer, and now that she wasn't being beaten senseless, Vree noted the distinct absence within her shadow. So our partnership ends now that I've vanquished Agar? Not a surprise, but one that left Vireylda alone in unfamiliar - possibly hostile - territory. The howling vortex of souls was silent, which was either extremely positive, or all kinds of horrible. Vree thought back on her spell, at all the magic instilled within it.

She'd meant to decimate Agar's forces along with himself. If it worked? Well, Narim would find itself lacking in zombies. Puppets with no puppeteer. Shame she couldn't tell from here. Vree turned her attention to the staff on the floor. She reached out with her own magic, trying to sense any booby trap that might wait for her. Vree didn't know if you could enchant a Staff of Arcana with a curse, but she wasn't taking any chances.

If it seemed generally non threatening, she'd scoop it up and leave the room. This tower had to have a window somewhere, right? Best make her way up to get the lay of the land before searching the tower itself.

Agar's ability to control undead fascinated Vireylda. She'd slain the lord of the tower, and what fool would simply leave without searching out the spoils? Surely Agar kept notes, or other items of value within his spire. Time to search!

But first, head up until she found a window and could peer out at the outside to Narim. Were her quartet of Death Knights still corporeal? They could come too, please.
 
Nev-yn had been entirely open with his purpose, to collect the souls that had escaped Judgement. The outliers that didn’t fall due to natural causes or plague or war.

That the original purpose of Agar in Narim was to slowly filter the souls from the Sherian Wars into the Umblat so that Aeternia and Aetheria alike wasn’t overwhelmed had been marred. That it was now being largely left to the fates - a case of better to accept the damage rather than contend with further problems and people ‘tinkering’ with the natural order of things.

Booby traps? None. This was Agar’s Spire, his home and uncontested - unchallenged within Narim for almost a decade. Where the only other entity had been Collette - and even then, the Champion of Ainlar and the former Champion of Jalat had hardly been inclined to war against one another.

The added Staff of Arcana in hand, its weight heavier than its size belied but there was no hindrance to Vireylda claiming it as she made her leave.

Up and up Vireylda went, rooms filled with corpses, rooms that were largely empty other than dust. There was no further sign of the third Ghoul that Vireylda had seen earlier, nor any companions that might take umbrage to Vireylda’s presence. Three more levels and it was there that Vree found a window looking out - a small little chamber and facing off into Narim to the north.

Death Knights? Still enslaved to Vireylda’s will and along for the ride!
 
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