The Return of the Ancient Ones. Gary Sr. Caplan

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      The sky was dark with lightning crackling, as the waves rolled across the great Tharn Sea, which was actually a vast brackish lake. One of the Twelve was moving from the seabed where, for millennia, he had lain buried. Galvarex, who had once been a king and a powerful sorcerer and warrior, felt a tingling and then a rush of energy. His head moved, and he felt trapped in something. He had been commanding naval forces when enemy forces under several Alor lords, including the lords of Lindorien and Andrim, defeated his armada. By using a discharge of chaotic energy, he released himself and moved up through the lake floor muck and began his ascent out of the wreckage of his ship. He realized he should be cautious; as time had passed, none of his troops had come to dig him out, so more than the battle had been lost. Lord Galvarex was a powerful undead and, although not sure how much time had passed, he did not care to present himself as an easy target to the Alor or their allies.

      “I need to look for the others,” Galvarex said aloud, after he reached the surface near the shore. He moved out of the lake waters and sensed that the level of the Unlife was higher than he remembered. Something must have happened, he thought. He had felt a surge of energy. It had been enough for him to awaken and extricate himself from the wreckage of his ship. Rising out of the waters of the Tharn Sea, he looked like a demon of darkness wearing a branil and zetheric alloy plate armor that appeared only well worn, since it was enchanted and had not rusted. Galvarex’s eyes radiated a green unearthly light. He still wore his magical crown attached to his specter-like visage. His robes had not been as highly enchanted and had been damaged and soiled by the sea muck. Once he got to the beach, the boots that matched his armor clanked, since the support leather had mostly disintegrated long ago, and only his immersion in the muddy bottom prevented total loss.

      Galvarex thought back to when he lost the battle supporting naval forces of Lord Dormas. He had already participated in preparing his master’s seclusion with most of the other members of the Twelve. “The Alor used dampening spells and weakened me, then defeated the crew and sank my flagship,” he said aloud. He recalled that he was supposed to have met with a few of the other members of the Twelve to obtain a construct army for Lord Thatos. My memories are sluggish. I am still weak, he thought. I must undergo a ritual of imbuement if I am to continue with our plans. Then he wondered how much time had passed.

      Galvarex looked about and saw some fishing ships heading toward a town on the great lake’s coastline; they were Urshkaar fishing ships. He would follow them and seek answers. Hours passed as his energy slowly increased and, as he walked, he briefly sensed several lesser undead skulking in the woods. Wood wights. They will not bother me. After traveling for a time, he came upon some Urshkaar children who ran away at his approach. He continued toward the town, able to hear music from a tavern that carried on the wind. Then he received a telepathic communication from another one of the Twelve known as Neston, once a living Eldren.

      ‘My brother in arms, much time has passed. I may have reawakened before you and, perhaps, since I was not stuck in the depths of the Tharn Sea, I have had more time to be about. We need to gather with our brothers and sisters. I sense Lord Thatos stirs as well,’ Neston intoned in mind speech.

      ‘I was stuck in the muck at the bottom of the Tharn Sea,’ Galvarex responded in mind speech. ‘Last I remember I was fighting Alor naval ships.’

      ‘I have been awake for many months as one of the Ancient Ones. Lord Nossus-Thoth was on Illúmaril,’ Neston said. ‘However, only a few weeks ago there СКАЧАТЬ