The four Sentinels made steady travel through the frontier, guided by Cohen’s prayers, Jacen’s fierce mien, Linfors and Osweald’s knowledge of geography. Their memory of the maps brought them to the entrance to the ancient city, the City of the Dead (or undead as it were). They had made good time, and arrived by 10 in the morning. They became aware of a dense fog that eerily obscured the ground as it hovered just above. Pausing to take in the scene, their eyes were drawn upward by movement to see clutched within the old, over-grown trees several murders of crows could be made out. Out of curiosity, Jacen drew his bow and his arrow was true, hitting the crow through the chest… and kept flying off into the city. At first it seemed odd, the rest of the crows flew away, but the bird that should be dead stayed on, and looked around. A cold chill ran up the Sentinels’ spines, but they braced themselves, and began making their way into the City of the Dead. Making their way down the large cobble-stoned road, they had been moving in for roughly thirty minutes, when they noticed that it was dusk within the city, and the sun was preparing to leave for the day. Confused expressions crossed their faces, and they quickly determined that it should only be 10:30 AM. But still, the sun was going down. Reluctantly, the Sentinels four, turned and made a tactical move to the out-skirts of the city. To this they found the sun was in fact, almost at a Noon setting, and the light was corrected.
Linfors and Osweald discussed with their comrades what the overall size of the city might be, considering what they saw on the maps, and based on their knowledge, this city was even larger than Hanlowell, and possibly even than the capitol (although the four Sentinels had not ever been to the capitol city). Considering something foul was happening in the city, they decided to skirt the city, and soon Osweald found hoof-prints leading into another great street that led into the city. Following it in, they found that the hoof-prints stopped, turned around and left, whereas some bare footprints continued on into the city. They soon found a four-way intersection, and from a distance, made out three people hanging from a tree.
Approaching cautiously, they made to poke the what appeared to be corpses to ensure they were not going to move, and indeed, they were dead. As well, they were all three wearing anachronistic clothing, of another time, and unknown arms or heraldry was sewn into their cloaks. Cohen made a point to take the most definable arms, and hold onto it in hopes of identifying who these three (2 men and 1 woman).
Osweald was able to locate a single set of footprints that seem to stand apart from the groups of footprints, and they followed it into the remains of an inn. With Osweald checking the trail of footprints, and Jacen and Linfors providing a keen eye to avoid ambush, Cohen performs a divine request from his god for the sight to see magic. He located a Short Sword, and a rod hidden under the remnants of the bar. It appeared that their experienced eye could find nothing more of importance within the inn, they stepped out, and Cohen found a toppled four-way street marker laying next to the road. He straightened it and found that the direction into the city that had once read “Wyld”, had the word “Nether” scrawled before it.
Osweald found again the path of single footprints, and continued leading the Sentinels into the City of the Undead. Making their way down the path, Jacen and Linfors were the first to hear the moaning. How odd, but the Sentinels would not be deterred, and continued on, seeing the left side of the street change from walls to a wrought-iron fence that had parts where it had buckled and fallen under the weight of years and abuse. Looking beyond, it became quickly apparent that the moaning was coming from within… within a graveyard. Following the footprints, they came to a breach in the wrought-iron fence, and open enough to ride through. Our intrepid four were all hearing the moaning now, but this only drove them further. Osweald re-mounted his horse as he had been leading his horse on foot following the footprints, and Cohen lit his hammer with a divine light; the two took the lead, with Linfors and Jacen behind. But not for long, soon after entering, Osweald had the sense of mind to attempt a plan of attack to which Linfors reminded that the time for a plan was back in the street, and Jacen had already slipped away somewhere into the graveyard, utilizing his cat-like ability to move silently. Osweald took on a determined look, as did they all, and continued forward. Up ahead, in the dusk of the sunlight they could make out roughly 12 humans, wailing and keening some un-holy verses, as they danced and thrashed around some object in the center. At first they were bolstered by their many past glories, for they were of the Heroes of Bloodvein Pass, and had seen the might of many a foe crashed and failed beneath their weapons. They moved on, slowly, determined. Linfors noticed Jacen attempting to remove the lid from a crypt, unsuccessfully, as his skills were of an agile nature, and not of brute strength. Soon, he returned to the group and informed Linfors that he had actually found their quarry, Symon. Linfors quickly hopped down and moved to assist removing the lid of the crypt, and with assistance Jacen made quick work of the stone cover. Soon the three of them had made their way back to Cohen and Osweald, with no time to spare. For the wild keening, wailing, shrieking and moaning had stopped… there were 12 creatures long dead, staring at the intrepid heroes. Fight or flight? The Sentinels Four determined the better course of action would be to provide cover for Symon, and depart post-haste. This would be optimal to save the young Lordling, and so they began their flight to exit the city. A quick inspection showed that the wights were gaining on them, and with a quick request to his god, Cohen shed divine energy at the same time that Linfors called upon the Fae to imbue a glowing aura around the running party. This seemed to help, for while the wights kept pace with them, they did not hinder their departure. Much like an eery, undead escort to the edge of the city, but once the party exited the boundary, they could hear the moaning, wailing, keening and shrieking of the undead who had lost their prize.
Safely out of the city, but not safe from the undead, they party continued on well into the night. While there were some uneasy moments, they made it back to Ralspur without incident and soon were had news delivered that the young Lordly had been rescued and would soon be back home with his family.
NOTE: Add or update as you will.