The Failure of Necromancy: The Rise and Fall of Velsharoon

[Gwain]

Behold! The Lichlord is undone.

Let it be known that Velsharoon, the Necromancer, the Lichlord, Lord of the Forsaken Crypt and The Vaunted is undone. He was bound in a ritual of pure magic and sent into a prison of pure retribution.

That a group gathered and put aside differences, mistrust and hatred to create the means of His undoing is apparent. Through a ritual as old as time itself, through relics of holy and unholy quality and trials beyond the measure of sanity they have done the deed.

Let it be known that Velsharoon, the corrupt crow of desolation fell from grace, that from a lesser power in the planes He became a demipower on the prime. Weak from defeats and without a godly realm He was vulnerable.

Sweet was the victory on the blasted fields of the dead, where the Abbey of the Tombstone Bell was lost to Velsharoon's machinations. Glorious was the blight removed from the dread crater and zone of endings.

Bound in a chain of Star Metal, Ringed in positive and negative shards, draped in the pure lifeblood of a unicorn and seeded with the acorn of the Grandfather tree. In this configuration of conflagration Velsharoon was dragged from the clouds, bound in chains and melted into a sphere of godoid proportion.

His followers tainted by His defeat fell or fled, the Fields cleansed of their presence for now.

Glory to those that stood for the Forgotten Kingdoms that day, glory to those that sought and granted vengeance for the Abbey.

Velsharoon is theirs, and He shall be cast into the Abyss to remain with Bane in imprisonment until the end of time.

-Gwain Rambash
World's angriest Snarkenfaugister

(This is a brief account of what occured in game, it is poor and short. I invite others that were witness to the events in question to post their own accounts and summaries of what happened. Ignorance is not the enemy, it is simply someone we are trying to pitch woo to)

[Harroghty]

"Taking the long view is well and prudent, but take care that you do not become so preoccupied by it that you miss what's right under your nose..."

A flowing script drifts in black ink across vellum of quality here. The fine calfskin may, up close, retain the aroma of its animal source but it is also readily redolent of sandalwood and candle smoke. Ecclesiastical provenance is easy to suppose with only a casual glance (or a clear nose at a few paces). A broken wax imprint cannot now identify more clearly the vellum's origins, but it does vaguely endorse its authority.

TO BARRILTAR BHANDRADDON, HIGH PRIEST IN TANTRAS; HARROGHTY, SERVANT OF TORM, WISHES TO REPORT WHAT HAS PASSED

YOUR GRACE DID LATE ASK AFTER THE RESULTS OF TORM'S COMMAND and in answer I reply that the first portion of this duty is completed. The Lord of the Forgotten Crypt, remembered of late only by old men, will again be forgotten. Though much else yet remains.

You know that the True God did command me ensure that nothing was lost which already had been gained. He directed also that I seek counsel of the Helmites, Gondsmen, and Selunites. Above all, he bid me see that the ritual would not fail, for its success would be contested and results great. This command came when the progress had been begun already and blood spilled in its pursuit. As many thoughts there were as those who regarded the progress. Though we know that the Powers' wills doth divide the state of men in divers functions, this disunity had its germ in the Dark One's work and its effects upon Gwain Rambash, who is known to you.

He, Gwain Rambash, did come close to the Dark One. We know that a tin cup does not remain cool if it sit too close to the hearth upon the board. We know too what Torm would instruct; that we stand ever alert against corruption and strike quickly and hard against any rot in the hearts of mortals. What corruption lingers in him now I know not; I know that Torm forbade me to allow him keep the goodly elements of the ritual lest his presence erode their puissance. I implore the Great Guard that I might remain alert to my master's command.

Disorder, that would spoil us, seems now a little more distant. Mine own orisons are fervent that I have not failed in Torm's commands.

I have set forth these events for your edification because you witnessed the command yourself. Do not, I pray, believe this to replace what reports you might receive from the Holy Champion. It is my goal only to instruct you upon the result, and you must now await his directions.