Wails of the Dead - Printable Version

Objective: Following his third defeat by the Wraith of Barsburg the bandit realizes there was something that living swordsman could not teach him that those who had perish had to offer. Experience that knew no bounds, wraiths, ghouls, haunting spirits of dead warriors, they all had something to offer to those who had the ability to see, to understand. His curse from the wraith that inflicted his sight, and his psyche, he realizes there was one place that he could go to relive the war. The war of Barsburg itself. He wanted to learn more from his ancestors on how things were during this time. His time was coming, his wings would soon be far to big for the small cage he rested in. Defeat after Defeat, he let it fuel his desire of becoming the best swordsman known in Esshar, and then he'd spread his influence from the tales of his name alone. As he enters the site of the war, his golden eyes begin to shimmer with a light blue luminescent light. All round him were flames of the undead. All shrieking at the realization of being noticed.