Dark Meeting

From Atlantic Roleplay Wiki

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Latest revision as of 05:03, 26 July 2025

Title: Dark Meeting

Author: Gen. Navrip Freemech

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“Vendor, tell me your status,” Navrip quered of his vendor, Zoe. The vendor responded with the normal tally of gold collected and how many days were left before she would need to be paid again. Navrip made a mental note of it and turned to retire to his quarters in the Chaple of Desolation, the outpost of the Holy Disciples of Darkness upon the ruined continent known as Ice Island, in the unholy city of Caina. He was just about to enter into a reviere with his Queen, when a voice shattered the silence.

“Ah, finally, I find you,” came a wisened voice. Navrip opened his eyes and they came to rest upon a young man, wearing finery of a noble. His eyes gleamed with blue life, his body muscled and vigorous. His powerful frame was impressive, enough to make Navrip think he held some ogre blood in his lineage. His hands rested on the jeweled pomel of a long sword, it’s tip planted on the floor of the chapel, as he leaned upon it.

Navrip sneered. “Petty illusions,” he spoke plainly. The man frowned for a moment as Navrip, lifted his hand. He then sighed, and closed his eyes as lines of power flowed from the Dark General’s palm and encased the man. The youthful façade melted away to reveal a wrinkled countenance. And old man wearing robes the color of dusk stood before him. Navrip looked him up and down. The man, a human, as far as Navrip could tell, was frail. His flesh sagged on his bones, his once well built muscles hanging impotently, barely able to hold his frame up. He leaned heavily on a cane, the former sword, favoring his left leg. The only thing unchanged was the eyes, which still held a lively gleam.

“You are smarter than I thought,” the old man spoke. “Very well taught in the ways of magic, I see.”

“I see the truth that my Queen wishes me to see,” Navrip replied. “Who are you and what brings you to this chapel?”

The man smiled. “Who I am does not matter, for the moment at least. But the reason I come is of utmost importance… I am dying.”

Navrip scoffed. “And what makes you think I care about that, old fool?”

“Fool I am not, impetuous machine. I still hold enough power in my frame to tear yours asunder.” Noticing that Navrip’s eyes began to glow hotter, the man held up a hand. “But I am not here to do you harm. No, you see, I do not wish to die.”

“My necromantic magic holds little power. If you wish, you may call upon the Order of the Ebon Skull. They can grant you unlife, for your fealty.”

The man chuckled at the thought. “Perhaps they could, had I a body that would survive the transition to unlife. No, you do not understand. To me, undeath is a fate worse than death, regardless of if I could survive the transition.”

“Then what have you come to me for? I can offer no further help than they.”

“Ah, but you can. You see, I know the secret to escaping my mortal coil without destroying it or corrupting it with undeath.”

“Then why do you not use this secret to escape it?”

“Why? Because I cannot do it alone. The components I need to cast the spell are difficult to attain. I need you to retrieve them for me.”

“Me? A moment ago you said you had the power to rip my body asunder. If that is true, then why do you need me?”

“Yes, it’s true I have personal power… However, I do not have man power. You have a guild behind you, one that would aid you in the recovery of the components I need to recover my youth.”

Navrip’s eyes narrowed as he considered what the man said. “If you need aid, why did you come to my guild? Surely, the Ebon Skull or the Infernal Cult would have more power to aid you then my guild.”

“Because, simply put, I do not trust them. I have a distaste for undead, hence my reluctance to work with the Order. And the Infernal Cult dabbles too much in powers they do not fully understand. To work with them would draw the attention of powers I do not wish to notice my plans.”

“That can’t be the only reason you do not work with another group…”

The man’s eyes lowered. “Aye, it is true. I have selected you and your guild because I can be of benefit to them. I can grant you a knowledge that will give you something you desire greatly. The others… They would demand payments that I could not meet. You, I can meet.”

Navrip’s hollow, unnatural laugh echoed in the small room. “So, you come to me because I am one powerful enough to help you, yet weak enough to accept your offer. You’re stupid, but honest. So, tell me, what is this knowledge that you can grant me?”

“I shall not tell you yet. I need the assurance that you will help me first.”

“No,” Navrip stated flatly.

The man’s head snapped up. “No? You cannot refuse me! You must help me! You must!” Suddenly, the man burst into a fit of coughing. An illness wracked his all ready aging frame and he collapsed to the floor. Navrip looked down on him unmercifully. The man claimed he knew something useful to Navrip, yet anything he knew would always be discovered in time. And time was something Navrip had infinite amonts of.

Finally, the man’s coughing subsided and he shakily brought himself to his feet, leaning even heavier on his oaken staff. His wattery eyes were rimmed in red, and some of the life had seemed to leave them. “All right, I will give you a hint as to the knowledge… It deals with the corruption of good aligned artifacts to the side of darkness.”

“But sir, those things that serve the darkness all ready serve the side of light.”

The man chuckled again. “So you believe that? Very well, I know how to snuff the light out of artifacts, so that they may be used by the side of darkness.”

“You know that, do you?”

“Aye, I know that… Will you give your aid to me in return for the knowledge.”

Navrip pondered it for a moment, and only a moment. “Yes, I shall.”

The old man smiled. “Good. I shall return in a week’s time. Gather your men, for we shall meet then to discuss the mission.” The man spoke the words to Recall and vanished, leaving Navrip to ponder what was just revealed.