CoreyXIX
BA Freakin' Overlord
The Kharazim Jungle. A humid region notorious for being difficult to travel through let alone settle in. The tropical climate was home to many species of plants and animals. In many places the canopy is so thick it is almost as dark as night in some areas. Rumors of magic and treasure have attracted many an unwary adventurer in the past, but most only find their death among the jungle and ruins. Despite the danger, beings still occasionally found ways to survive the environment. Beware, for not all inhabitants of the jungle have your best interest in mind.
Coursing along the flowing river was a small wooden boat. In itself wasn't very unusual for ways to travel the region, but the unusual thing itself was the passengers. The paddles were manned by translucent figures, resembling humanoids but not quite matching any one particular race. At the head of a boat stood a figure in navy blue robes tied together by a belt with a small skull at the buckle, his lantern clutched in his bony hand as it glowed with a soft cyan light as if to be a guiding light in the darker atmosphere of the jungle. His eyes too glowed that same cyan color, although "eye sockets" was a better description for him. The pilled up hood on his robes would make it less obvious from a distance that his countenance was not not of the living.
Mehran scanned the shorelines as the specters tirelessly paddled at a slow pace down the river. As a priest of Alkathos it was the duty of the menacing lich to deal with threats to their community, let alone those who personally threatened him or his position. This time, he was to deal with a rogue priest. Despite being as still as a statue, internally he was positively seething in anger as he looked around. To betray their brotherhood and sacred duties was one of the worst offenses a person in their home city could possibly commit, and Mehran personally pledged to wipe this stain from the preisthood's reputation. But this also a very personal matter for the lich for the scum had also taken something of great personal value to him. The trail wasn't hard for him to follow, as one so steeped in death as himself had been more than able to follow the faint trails of necromantic magic that followed.
"Land me there." Mehran says, his voice soft spoken but full of his purpose at the moment. The specters obligingly started paddling to the side, pulling up onto a small outcropping of land that was sticking out in the river that connected to the shore. After the landed he cautiously stepped out, taking his scythe out of the boat as well. "The two of you, guard the boat. If I don't return within two days' time, report my absence to the bishop." he says, the humanoid figured nodding and fidgeting as if full of nervous energy to do something but now unable to. He turned from the boat to the thickets surrounding him. He suspected he knew where his destination was going to bring him, though he hoped not.
Coursing along the flowing river was a small wooden boat. In itself wasn't very unusual for ways to travel the region, but the unusual thing itself was the passengers. The paddles were manned by translucent figures, resembling humanoids but not quite matching any one particular race. At the head of a boat stood a figure in navy blue robes tied together by a belt with a small skull at the buckle, his lantern clutched in his bony hand as it glowed with a soft cyan light as if to be a guiding light in the darker atmosphere of the jungle. His eyes too glowed that same cyan color, although "eye sockets" was a better description for him. The pilled up hood on his robes would make it less obvious from a distance that his countenance was not not of the living.
Mehran scanned the shorelines as the specters tirelessly paddled at a slow pace down the river. As a priest of Alkathos it was the duty of the menacing lich to deal with threats to their community, let alone those who personally threatened him or his position. This time, he was to deal with a rogue priest. Despite being as still as a statue, internally he was positively seething in anger as he looked around. To betray their brotherhood and sacred duties was one of the worst offenses a person in their home city could possibly commit, and Mehran personally pledged to wipe this stain from the preisthood's reputation. But this also a very personal matter for the lich for the scum had also taken something of great personal value to him. The trail wasn't hard for him to follow, as one so steeped in death as himself had been more than able to follow the faint trails of necromantic magic that followed.
"Land me there." Mehran says, his voice soft spoken but full of his purpose at the moment. The specters obligingly started paddling to the side, pulling up onto a small outcropping of land that was sticking out in the river that connected to the shore. After the landed he cautiously stepped out, taking his scythe out of the boat as well. "The two of you, guard the boat. If I don't return within two days' time, report my absence to the bishop." he says, the humanoid figured nodding and fidgeting as if full of nervous energy to do something but now unable to. He turned from the boat to the thickets surrounding him. He suspected he knew where his destination was going to bring him, though he hoped not.
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