New Acarthia entered the unusually damp mid-summer gathering in July with a feeling of being simply overwhelmed with too much to do all at once. War councils to plan the fight against Dreadrot met formally and at every fireside in the city. Rumors passed that the dwarves might now be at war against Dargok… not that the news seemed to diminish the appetite of local hobgoblins for mayhem. Then that old ogre shaman Nogra brought news that a mystical skill had been discovered in the world, and that seemed to herald the return of old enemies: The Huntsman and Anarchy. The worst of it, absolutely the most vexing, was the continual reappearance of those necromantic rods out in the field near the place where Tomarg Blackhand raised Acarthian soldiers as undead during the war. We all cheered when one rod finally got destroyed right before Sir Wolsey’s knighting ceremony… but then another one got planted the next night. Curses and epithets rose like a dark cloud over the city for a time… but not so dark as the discovery that the area around the rod was feeding on the strength of necromancy and growing larger every time it was cast. We growled, and wondered how to defeat this latest challenge coming the New Acarthian night, and grumbled, but little did we know that the situation would grow even worse very soon.
During the night, as adventuring forces made their plans soon to challenge Dreadrot, trickles of undead began to stream out from the west and northwest Howling Woods, north from the battlefields of the civil war, and stragglers clawing their way up from the dirt of graveyards both fresh and forgotten. None of them were especially powerful individually, but in great numbers they came to New Acarthia, attracted to the mysterious rod and the black zone around it. Adventurers addressed the undead efficiently, but with growing exhaustion. New Acarthia’s Town Guard worked to usher townspeople, farmers, and families into protected portions of the estate, and ensure lodging for those affected by the widening circle of necrotic rot that was taking hold outside the Town Hall.
Then, as if by some unheard signal, a solitary necromancer waded into the fray with a purposeful stride, and laid into the line of adventurers and ducal guard. His eyes were wild, as was his spellcasting, seemingly uncaring if his spells each flew astray. Quickly it became clear why: for every necromantic spell thrown, the living were driven back from the magical rod as the Domain of the Defiled grew larger still.
The necromancer’s cackling continued, even as an adventurer with precise swing cut him from stem to stern. As the necromancer fell, his laughter turned to gurgling. A pitying spirit chose to end the necromancer’s life swiftly.
That is when the forest lit up - not with flame, nor alchemical light, but with a glowing red eyes of a dozen or more Greater Undead, and their mindless minions. As the fight began, the remaining defenders found themselves in an unwinnable position, as their rear became pressed with every necromantic spell hurled into the fray, and seemingly endless waves of undead before them.
A voice of authority called out on the field: “Retreat! Fall back to the Town Hall!” and the safety of the Haven of the Living cast upon it already. The stalemate protected Acarthians for a short while: No undead form could enter the barrier of the Haven of the Living, and the living were outside the reach of the Domain of the Defiled around the rod for the time being.
From the balcony, sharp eyes discerned the faint glow marking a battle magic Circle of Power cast near the rod, and surely within its zone of influence - no good sign for the living Acarthians. Perhaps a skeletal figure stood within the circle, and perhaps it cast a ritual of some sort. Wild theories began to circulate as to the ritual being cast, but those of authority present agreed: if battle magic caused the circle to expand, necromantic ritual magic could not improve the situation. With regret, adventures and whomever of rank present made the difficult decision: Evacuate the Town Hall district. Push towards the Warehouse District, back toward Deep Jug’s Tavern and the other guild circles across town. There, compare information and create a plan to assault the Domain of the Defiled.
It could not have been nearly a half hour after that when the the Domain of the Defiled had grown nearly to encompass the Town Hall. The final push began to secure the last of the defenders and townsfolk, and get them to safety across town, With brave adventurers in the lead and at the rear, and even the newest recruit of the Town Guard standing watch, those present in the Town Hall district cut their way through the undead patrols, and made it back to Deepjug’s Tavern across town.
As the last of the group passed beyond the district walls, the rod’s affected area expanded to encompass the whole of “Old New Acarthia,” forcing out a few stragglers, and stopping just short of the boundary between the Town Hall district and the Warehouse District.
Later, scout reports placed the affected area at one thousand feet from the rod itself in all directions. The sounds of necromantic spells hummed on the wind throughout the night of the evacuation, but it seemed the rod had reached its limit of influence. The radius of the affected expanded no further from there.
Those adventurers still present in the city wait with the displaced residents of the town, its guard, ducal forces, and even the occasional clandestine meeting with goblin or orcish friends. They receive the reports from scouts, and make the occasional foray to the border of the affected area to harry the undead. When the other adventurers, the courts, mercenaries, warriors and mages, scouts and healers return on the 18th of August, then the real planning will begin. That is when we commit to retake New Acarthia!
During the night, as adventuring forces made their plans soon to challenge Dreadrot, trickles of undead began to stream out from the west and northwest Howling Woods, north from the battlefields of the civil war, and stragglers clawing their way up from the dirt of graveyards both fresh and forgotten. None of them were especially powerful individually, but in great numbers they came to New Acarthia, attracted to the mysterious rod and the black zone around it. Adventurers addressed the undead efficiently, but with growing exhaustion. New Acarthia’s Town Guard worked to usher townspeople, farmers, and families into protected portions of the estate, and ensure lodging for those affected by the widening circle of necrotic rot that was taking hold outside the Town Hall.
Then, as if by some unheard signal, a solitary necromancer waded into the fray with a purposeful stride, and laid into the line of adventurers and ducal guard. His eyes were wild, as was his spellcasting, seemingly uncaring if his spells each flew astray. Quickly it became clear why: for every necromantic spell thrown, the living were driven back from the magical rod as the Domain of the Defiled grew larger still.
The necromancer’s cackling continued, even as an adventurer with precise swing cut him from stem to stern. As the necromancer fell, his laughter turned to gurgling. A pitying spirit chose to end the necromancer’s life swiftly.
That is when the forest lit up - not with flame, nor alchemical light, but with a glowing red eyes of a dozen or more Greater Undead, and their mindless minions. As the fight began, the remaining defenders found themselves in an unwinnable position, as their rear became pressed with every necromantic spell hurled into the fray, and seemingly endless waves of undead before them.
A voice of authority called out on the field: “Retreat! Fall back to the Town Hall!” and the safety of the Haven of the Living cast upon it already. The stalemate protected Acarthians for a short while: No undead form could enter the barrier of the Haven of the Living, and the living were outside the reach of the Domain of the Defiled around the rod for the time being.
From the balcony, sharp eyes discerned the faint glow marking a battle magic Circle of Power cast near the rod, and surely within its zone of influence - no good sign for the living Acarthians. Perhaps a skeletal figure stood within the circle, and perhaps it cast a ritual of some sort. Wild theories began to circulate as to the ritual being cast, but those of authority present agreed: if battle magic caused the circle to expand, necromantic ritual magic could not improve the situation. With regret, adventures and whomever of rank present made the difficult decision: Evacuate the Town Hall district. Push towards the Warehouse District, back toward Deep Jug’s Tavern and the other guild circles across town. There, compare information and create a plan to assault the Domain of the Defiled.
It could not have been nearly a half hour after that when the the Domain of the Defiled had grown nearly to encompass the Town Hall. The final push began to secure the last of the defenders and townsfolk, and get them to safety across town, With brave adventurers in the lead and at the rear, and even the newest recruit of the Town Guard standing watch, those present in the Town Hall district cut their way through the undead patrols, and made it back to Deepjug’s Tavern across town.
As the last of the group passed beyond the district walls, the rod’s affected area expanded to encompass the whole of “Old New Acarthia,” forcing out a few stragglers, and stopping just short of the boundary between the Town Hall district and the Warehouse District.
Later, scout reports placed the affected area at one thousand feet from the rod itself in all directions. The sounds of necromantic spells hummed on the wind throughout the night of the evacuation, but it seemed the rod had reached its limit of influence. The radius of the affected expanded no further from there.
Those adventurers still present in the city wait with the displaced residents of the town, its guard, ducal forces, and even the occasional clandestine meeting with goblin or orcish friends. They receive the reports from scouts, and make the occasional foray to the border of the affected area to harry the undead. When the other adventurers, the courts, mercenaries, warriors and mages, scouts and healers return on the 18th of August, then the real planning will begin. That is when we commit to retake New Acarthia!