A Brief Primer on Witch Lords
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_Therein contained within this primer are brief notes of observation of the Witch Lord's vile magic, as witnessed by Ithlinne of Greywater. This being a truthful and factual accounting of occurrences.
The Massacre on the Moonsea Ride
A deathly pallor hung over the fickle, haunted woods to the north of the ruins of Eastway. A dense black cloud of smoke rising far above the majestic trees, the smell of charring trees polluting every breath. In the trees, in the darkness, a pack of tusked orcs had come, burning brands in hand and malice in their eyes.
Like a scythe, members of the Citadel Council and several mercenaries began cutting their way through the pack, encountering determined but ultimately futile resistance. Groups of dwarven and orcish undead were observed, emulating life in death, as they hammered each other with great blows, interrupted only by their shared hatred of the living, to turn against the adventurers that ha come to confront them.
Upon the Moonsea Ride lay the shattered remains of a caravan, the cinders of their wagons long having cooled, the corpses, bloating, had not yet risen. A thick stockade, crowned with spikes, strewn with corpses, blocked all passage further north, towards the Dales, towards Myth Drannor.
It occurred differently than what had been expected. The corpses were drawn down into the earth with a great shudder. Swallowed by the dirt beneath them, that had been salted with their blood, leaving but a shallowness in the ground and trinkets that had been spat out. The ground shifted, drawing eastwards, brief humps of earth showing which way the corpses had been drawn.
Crowned with fire and blood, upon a hillock, surrounded by twisted, gnarly caricatures of trees. The Bonepit. Strewn deep with bones, the bodies were drawn here, the hundred orc bodies that had been slain. Limply they rose from the Bonepit. Reanimated. Filled with unholy vigor, and monstrous hatred for the living. Within moments they had fallen upon the living orcs that were close by, killing all that yet had breath. Their victims, bound by the same curse, would also rise from the Bonepit, bound in life as in death to the service of the Witch Lords.
The Undead Minions
Headless Elven Swordmaster
Fear should grip your heart 'ere you encounter one of the fallen Tel'Quessir. Bound by foul magic, headless, it yet possesses the ability to sense what is nearby. There are few, if any of the With Lord's servants that can match the power, skill, and sheer lethality of this unliving monster._
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While incomplete, this primer is available to the public. Entries and changes are occasionally made