We are exhumed. Less than a season has passed. They perform strange magics, unknown to me. She – she lives! And yet not. She is changed. Daughter of Verdant, what have you done? What bargains have you made?
But I had made preparations in life, or perhaps my family had. The priest came to me, the envoy of Zon-Kuthon, in the place that is no place. He called me by my secret name, which I will not repeat, and asked “Seldryn Verdant, would you that I free you to return to the world? Your friends have made a way, should you wish it.” I remembered my bargain, my deal, my contingency. I remembered my death – careless, unnecessary. My life less than half done. I remembered my family, and Fredonia. I replied “Oh yes! I was not nearly finished!”
“Then brace yourself”, he replied.
He drew a heavy dagger. He plunged it into my chest.
I went to another place. I was tested. I was put to inquiry. I was judged. I do not know with what conclusion.
I woke in an inner chamber of Fort Tuskwater: Jope, Rainor, Klael and the priest surrounding me, Thought and Memory on my finger. Around us the implements and marks of necromancy. “It is done”, said the priest. “You have 50 days to discharge your Geas.
To my other scars, now, is added a death-wound over my heart.
It was also a major deal for Klael, our paladin. He is having to Atone for his involvement, and is temporarily nerfed. Sorry about that, Scott, but thanks.
The reason for all this, BTW, is that my replacement character Zack Jackson kinda sucked. Bard with the “Archaeologist” template. He had some very cool shit but just could not accomplish anything in combat. And the other characters basically didn’t like the annoying little tit.
I was concerned that Dave would nerf Switch to the point that it was pointless actually coming back. But he has avoided doing that – she still has Thought and Memory and even the permanent Arcane Sight. Rather that taking stuff away, he has added stuff.
I’ll have to alter Switch’s voice a bit, I think. Spending a few weeks dead alters your outlook on life. I don’t think she can be the silly teenager that she was. Oh, and there’s the other thing. But I’ll have her pick up the story.
I don’t know what to tell you. I was resurrected on Friday. I was not going to write you, thinking that everyone would be better off not knowing. But it’s not going to remain a big secret for long. Yes, I have bargained with Zon-Kuthon for a continuance of this life. I do not know, yet, what price I will pay.
My companions did it – giving up some of their blood. Even the knight of Iomedae. And they accepted a Geas, to retrieve the capstone of some monolith and hand it over to a scholar to the north. Klael asked his god if such an act were evil in itself, and it is not. But the resurrection itself was, and he is paying a price for that.
I do not think that I am exactly alive, anymore. I no longer feel the cold, and the world seems to move slowly.
Since my return, my magic had been coming to me with difficulty, I was worn out all the time. We traveled to the south, to the henge where this capstone is located. We fought some giants, defeating them easily. I went to check one for valuables and, and found myself eating the blood on my fingers. I then drank warm blood from it, and felt revivified.
I have not told my companions this. I was invisible at the time, and took some of the blood in a water flask (I wonder if I can get Morgana to do me a water skin with a Gentle Repose on it?). I don’t think I shall be able to conceal this for long – Rainor has eyes like a hawk, and Rainen a wolf’s nose. I don’t feel undead, but then again: what would being undead feel like? I’m afraid to ask Klael to test me.
I returned because I had not finished my task of redeeming the dishonour to the family of my actions, because I wanted to continue to help with Freedonia, and because I am still young. I’m not sure, now, that it was the right thing to do. But I have made my choices. And I’m committed now, to the people who gave me their blood to bring me back from the dead. If that means that I serve the heirs of Jope for as long ans they and I endure, then so be it.
I may never come home.