RPing in other games

[Rhake]

Seeing some of the great RP stories posted here made me pine for some of the days when Wens and I played in WoW, Guild Wars and Asheron's Call years ago. We wrote a lot of RP literature back then, and I thought I might share a story from 2007.

Background: This was written when Wens and I played Necromancers in Guild Wars. The story is about one particular experience that we had. The story references some of the villans, baddies, locations, spells and combat that are a major part of the game. Wens is Nan, and I am Ransom. Hope you enjoy.

-------------------

What would be so wrong?
 
If you listened closely enough, you could actually hear the candles burning. Small faint snapping sounds as the flames set orange patterns of light coalescing over the chamber walls. And then there was the heat. The heat of the hundred or so candles that were arranged in several ever expanding circles was enough to make even the most stoic of Necromancers cringe in discomfort. Ransom just stood there silently, barely outside the outermost circle, waiting for some response, all the while trying to maintain his composure against the seemingly endless waves of heat. Why would any Necromancer in their right mind even remotely consider meeting here? This cavern is not even fit for some one alive, much less, very much less, one who is undead.
 
He noticed an almost imperceptible brief shifting of the shadows. This was confirmed when the near by candles, whose flames had been steadily upright, almost seemed to shirk away from the approaching shadow. Peering through the brightly lit cavern was difficult for Ransom as his eyes were more accustomed to viewing the deep black of night. But he thought he could almost make out a shape. The shape seemed to be a hunched over hooded figure, slowly shuffling towards him, carefully picking it’s way over the many candles.
 
So this is what all of those years of training were for? Ransom roamed through dank catacombs, climbing through fetid sewers, scaling over volcanic mountains, and risked grave injury fighting monsters over several continents, in order to find seemingly randomly misplaced items and beings that were deemed important by various and sundry people that he was told to report to. For this?
 
Ransom felt that he was as obedient as the next young Necromancer. He always followed direction, well, almost always. There was that one time when he was admonished for showing up late for an important mission. He explained that he got lost, but in reality the only thing he lost was his mind over a comely young female Necromancer called Nan that he just run into. She happened to be doing some of the same mindless errands. He felt obliged to assist, once or twice. Well, truth be told, actually many times. And there was that other time he was late, again after a secretive rendezvous with Nan, and that other time, oh, and that other time. OK, perhaps he was not the most punctual of the young Necromancers, or Mancers, as he was want to refer to them. But he did ultimately complete his missions. No one could refute that. Not even his instructors.
 
So this is what all of those years of training came down to? This is what he was so urgently summoned to meet? Some shuffling hood-covered, foul smelling creature? Ransom chuckled silently to himself and shook his head, wishing that whatever it was that this foul thing wanted, would be over quick enough. This was a waste of his time, and besides, he had more important matters, like enjoying the company of Nan. Ransom’s eye caught a motion and he glanced back at the creature.
 
There was nothing but a blur. He had trouble breathing, as if a thousand Charr were forcing the air out of his lungs. And through the daze that he felt clouded his head, he could feel fluid; a slimy, gelatinous mess, running down his face. He dared to open his eyes, and was stunned to see a full-grown Flesh Golem standing on his chest. While wondering why it was not attacking him, Ransom stared up into it’s vacant bloodshot eyes staring down into his, and greenish rivulets of drool, cascading from it’s mouth into…..
 
Ransom immediately rolled over, throwing off the Golem, and rose quickly to his feet in one sharp motion. Quickly wiping off his face and spitting out that vile saliva that had collected in his mouth, he incanted Blood of the Master and placed himself under its spell to give him strength while he rapidly assessed his present situation.

“Oh, I see you’ve met one my minions”, said a low voice say from the corner.
 
Peering through the light, Ransom could make out the intricate armor of a very high level Necromancer standing no more than 20 feet away. From the looks of his armor, this one might be a Priest, might even be serving in Verata’s Cult and answering only to the High Wizard of Necromancy himself, Verata.
 
Still gagging, and coughing up the minion’s phlegm, Ransom muttered “How long have I been passed out?”
 
“Oh, I would suppose no more than half a candle or so, perhaps more”, Ransom could hear the armor rattle, as this powerful Mancer spoke. He actually seemed to be amused.
 
“Oh, and forgive, we have not been properly introduced. I am Ne’Reun’Dal, and I believe you have already met my Minion”, he said gesturing to his right.

Ransom glanced to his left and saw the huge Flesh Golem standing there, swaying every so slightly, just waiting for his master to command him to rend Ransom apart.
 
“He can get a mite anxious. Please excuse him for knocking you out earlier”

“Oh, sure, he’s excused, by all means”, Ransom said sarcastically while rubbing the back of his head which had since really started to ache.
 
Glancing up, Ransom figured that now was as good a time as any and prepared to incant Spiteful Spirit on this nefarious Necromancer. He started to summon the spell.
 
“Young corpse, I would not do that if I were you. Look around you”, Ne’Reun’Dal intoned
 
Ransom stepped back and halted his spell while peering around. He suddenly realized that swirling around him were the incantations of both Spiteful Spirit and Parasitic Bond, along with several spells that appeared to be from the Mesmerizer school of magic. If he so much as blinked, assuming the spells would even let him do it, he would be struck down. And if not by them, then certainly by the minion that was still eagerly waiting by his side.
 
Ransom’s shoulders slumped in defeat, “I seem to be at a slight disadvantage here. Might I inquire just what you want of me?”
 
Ne’Reun’Dal chuckled, “Young corpse, you have so much to learn.” With a flick of his hand, he dispatched the Flesh Golem into a pile of rotting dust, and Ransom could clearly see its remaining life surging into Ne’Reun’Dal’s body.
 
“So full of self-importance you are. I did not want to see you”, he chuckled again. “It was you that wanted to see me!”

Thoughts raced through Ransom’s mind as he tried to recall his actions during the last days, then weeks, then months, searching for something that might have triggered this summons. Over the previous months he had explored the far reaches of Tyria, Cantha, and Elona. He had battled innumerous creatures including the Lich Lord, Shiro, and Abaddon himself. He was sometimes successful, sometimes not, but always he left a good account of himself. He was never alone however. Oh, he had summoned thousands of minions, and hired dozens of local henchman, and even recruited some personal guards, but he was always with Nan.
 
Nan and Randy were students in the Academy of Arcane Arts, just outside of Ascalon. They were both at the same level in the School of Arts and Necromancy, but their paths seldom crossed as he was majoring in Death Magic, while she preferred the art of Curses. Randy had entered the school as an orphan after both of his parents were horribly slain while venturing through the Snake Dance region in the Southern Shiverpeaks. Ransom was always told that his father had told his mother they could just run through the region without stopping to fight on their way to Droknar’s Forge. The story continues that they were both slain almost immediately after stepping onto the snow. Their bodies were never recovered.
 
Nan on the other hand, came from a noble family of favored Necromancers based out of the House zu Heltzer. As all of her six older sisters had attended the Academy, so had her parents the same aspirations for young Nan.  Despite the fact that she was considered the most beautiful of all of her sisters, she was always a rebel. She was want to favor a Scythe more often than a staff, and thought nothing of fighting at close range, instead of standing back so that her armor did not get stained, as were most proper Necromancers trained to do.  But her parents continually emphasized that this was just not the proper attitude of a Lady of noble birth, so she eventually relented and allowed herself to be hustled off to the Academy.
 
Ransom remembered being one day in the Echovald forest. Once again, he was instructed to gain favor with the House zu Heltzer, so he set about mindlessly slaying creatures around the forest in order that the House would smile kindly upon him. He let his mind wander as his team slayed beast after beast.
 
“Excuse me! Eh, hem, Excuse me!” a pause, then “Hey Corpse boy! Excuse me!” Randy heard yelled from behind him.

Turning around, Ransom's eyes beheld a stunning Necromancer with silverish white hair and who was adorned in elegant skin tight armor that almost seemed to be painted on her slender body. He had no doubt that she could raise the dead without nary a spell. She most certainly was having that exact effect on him, along with causing him to forget to breath. Ransom recovered and exhaled deeply, and then noticed that she was tapping her boot covered foot. 

He took a minute to compose himself. Taking some deep breaths, he ran his hands though his oily hair, pulling out bits of flesh, bone, and other debris from his recent fights. Well, maybe some of the debris was from fights a few days ago, but not much longer than that. Wiping his hands off, he slowly crossed his arms and tried to appear nonchalant. One would be hard pressed to suggest that he succeeded.
 
“Ma jush wa tabout?”, he couldn’t help but mumble.
 
“Speak up Corpse boy, what did you say? Or does a minion have your tongue?” she snarled back, obviously getting impatient.
 
Clearing his throat, Ransom tried again, “Forgive me M’Lady. Might I inquire what you exactly are referring to?”
 
“Why of course. You’re stealing my monsters, Corpse boy!  Get out of this area or I will hex you all the way back to Kaineng Center!” Nan’s eyes became wide with anger.
 
Ransom was crestfallen, as this obviously was not going well. She definitely was of noble birth, and would gladly dance on his corpse in lieu of walking around him. Ransom decided to concede the territory to this angry Necromancer.
 
“Alright M’lady, put your staff down and don’t hex me. I can see that we can not reach agreement, so I will take leave of this area”, Ransom said forlornly. “Besides, I’d rather be at the beach. I bid you safe hunting”, he muttered, and turned to walk away.
 
Ransom had taken but two steps when he felt a hand placed gently on his shoulder. Turning around he was staring right into the Necromancer’s deep blue eyes. They were the color of the sky as he imagined it, if he would not be afraid to look up while outside in the daylight.
 
“Take me with you” she said in almost a whisper. “I detest these tasks. I need a long break. A very long break.”
 
With nary a pause Ransom responded, “By all means of Ascalon M’lady! Let us be off this very moment.” and smiled back at her.
 
So away they set on their own personal mission to frequent every beach of every body of water on all three continents. Handing in assigned quests and performing missions only when absolutely necessary, they spent as much time as allowed on the sandy beaches. Typically they would sneak up to a beach, clearing out any creatures that happened to be patrolling the area. Then, depending on the temperature of the water, sometimes they would just wade into the water with their armor on. Other times they would just sit on the beach in their bathing suits. Suffice it to say, Ransom remembered that they were happy.
 
And then he suddenly remembered something else. It came back clearly to him now.
 
-------

  It was one day while exploring deep into the Southern Shiverpeaks. Ransom and Nan accidentally wondered into the area controlled by Verata’s Cult. They had visited the Copperhammer Mine earlier, checking on some material specials that they had heard about while shopping in Lion’s Arch. Nan was disappointed with what they found, so they decided to get in some quick exploring before leaving the area. They had not often been in the area, and with the new fallen snow and biting cold, it was a perfect time to look around. The Academy had just assigned them to help out in Nahpui Quarter that same day, but obviously, that conflict would just have to wait for now.
 
They traipsed for what seemed like several hours of tripping and sliding through the new fallen snow. Nan insisted on pushing Ransom down the mountain slopes whenever they reached a crest, so by now Ransom was bone-chilled cold, and covered with snow, while Nan was still resplendent in her shiny armor. It was then that they noticed that just beyond the next rise, there was a small encampment directly in front of them.
 
Ransom crawled up the rise and was surprised to see that Nan had laid down right next to him in the snow.
 
“M’lady, your armor, what little of it there is, will certainly get frozen,” he said.
 
“What? And miss out on the action? You know me better than that!” she quipped.
 
That he did, he mused, and turned back to the encampment. About a dozen or so beings roamed around. Judging by the cut of their armor, and the color of their capes, Ransom reckoned that this was part of Verata’s Cult of Necromancers. The cult is lead by the Wizard Verata, a powerful summoner of minions whose prowess was known throughout the continent. His followers were fanatical in their devotion and teachings, and to face just a few of them, usually meant facing a wall of minions along side them.
 
Now Nan became concerned, “Let us make leave of this place, I do not like the evil that I sense here” she stated.
 
Sighing, knowing that Nan was right, and realizing that nothing good would come of this encounter, Ransom turned to crawl back down. But then he suddenly thought that these members practiced the Death arts, which were the most powerful Necromancer skills as far as he was concerned. Nan would differ vehemently, but then again she was a Noble. If he could get his hands on a tome of their hexes and spells, he might just be able to become a powerful Minion Master such as they. The thought of controlling not just his minions, but also those of his enemies, was too enticing to pass up. What would be so wrong?
 
After sneaking over and opening up the chest in the back of the encampment, Ransom was eventually able to memorize three different hexes. Afterwards, he and Nan ran back to Copperhammer Mine to make travel arrangements to get to the Nahpui mission that they had put off as long as possible. He never had a chance to try his newfound spells, until just the other day.
 
A few days ago, while fighting again in the Echovald forest, he noticed a Bone Fiend that was not his own in the group of beasts that he was fighting. Ransom, remembering his newly found spells, seized upon the chance to try out his newfound power and incanted Verata’s Gaze on the attacking Fiend. Immediately it ceased its attack, and began attacking its previous master. Although the hex seemed to be successfully applied, Ransom noticed that it left him unusually drained and weak, not like the other incantations that he more commonly used on a daily basis. It is a powerful spell after all, so Ransom thought nothing further of it, that is, not until right this very minute. And now, he began to tremble.
 
Trying to remain calm, he looked at Ne’Reun’Dal, “Now that I think about it, I might have invoked Verata’s name a few times, I can’t remember exactly.”
 
Ne’Reun’Dal laughs. A deep guttural laugh that echoes and reverberates around and within Ransom himself. Now he is visibly trembling. Nothing can control his fear now.
 
“So young corpse boy, the mystery is solved. As you probably have guessed, I myself am a High Priest in the Cult of Verata. As such, I can sense whenever anyone intones his name, and neither his name nor his spells are to be used in vain." He said, raising his voice. 
 
"By using one of his spells, you have made it abundantly clear that you desire to be one of us. Hence, the reason I was summoned!” Ne’Reun’Dal chuckled.
 
Ne’Reun’Dal approached closer to Ransom. “In essence, young Necromancer, you have asked to be administered The Oath! Mind you, Verata does not take kindly to those who renege on their summons!”
 
Ransom noticed that the Flesh Golem approached him ever so slightly and could now feel its fetid breath upon his skin. Why did he not listen to Nan? Actually facing the anger of Verata might be preferable to facing the wrath of Nan when she finds out what has happened. But that was little solace now. He was feeling faint.
 
“Are you prepared for The Oath?” Ne’Reun’Dal was now venomously glaring at him, “Speak up! What say you?”

------

Ransom felt groggy, barely aware of the conflict around him. He did however notice that the back of his head throbbed and hurt tremendously. Reaching his arm around to touch the back of his head he felt damp earth. He opens his eyes seeing the top of the cavern, and realizes that he is laying flat on his back on the hard earthen ground. Painfully turning his head to the side he sees among the minions running amok, a Sunspear Warrior, what appears to be two Fire Elementalists, and a couple of Monks, all seemingly focused on attacking Ne’Reun’Dal and his minions. Ransom, still woozy, props himself up, and is very surprised to see Nan in the back of the cavern, frantically casting hexes, and yelling out combat directions to her team. This must be some sort of dream is all he could think as he falls back down unconscious.
 
When he next opens his eyes, he sees Nan glancing down at him, and she suddenly smiles, “Welcome back Randy! I’d love to chat, but I need a bit of help! Please!” she yells through the cacophony as she lays down Spiteful Spirit on the Necromancer Priest.
 
She grabs Ransom’s hands and hauls him painfully to his feet. Ransom rubs the back of his head trying to stabilize the spinning room while finally coming to the realization that he is not only not in a dream, but that he is currently standing in the middle of a deadly skirmish. He steadies himself, concentrates his energy, and then summons up a Flesh Golem. Without delay, he commands his pet Cougar and newly arrived golem to charge Ne’Reun’Dal, who already had his hands full with Nan’s rapidly wearying group of fighters.
 
Trying to keep his focus as spells and hexes fly across the room, he feels his health and energy slowly draining away. The stench of burned flesh and earth permeates the air, along with the smoke and haze of both successful and interrupted spells. Minion corpses litter the room, and he notices a Monk and Elementalist crumpled in the corner. Nearly drained to death and so weak to break the hexes on himself, Ransom leans over and feasts on a nearby corpse, instantly feeling stronger. He urges his Flesh Golem and Cougar on to renewed attacks against the Necromancer Priest. It looks like the Priest is finally starting to weaken.
 
But just then Nan’s last surviving Fire Elementalist is obliterated by an empathetic spell. As Nan’s remaining Monk, called Dunkoro, stoops over to resurrect the fallen caster, she shouts for him to stop and to continue healing the group instead. A blast of cold energy from Ne’Reun’Dal then almost knocks Ransom off his feet, but he quickly recovers and spins around. Ransom reaches back, and with his last remaining energy, jumps up and casts Well of Suffering on the Priest, just as his Cougar sinks his teeth into Ne’Reun’Dal right arm, interrupting the Priest’s cast, but more importantly, fatally poisoning him.
 
Suddenly, the noise of battle ceases, and through the smoke and haze, Ransom sees a spent Ne’Reun’Dal slump to the ground on his knees, as his health rapidly degenerated away. For a second, Ne’Reun’Dal looks at Ransom with vacant, almost dead eyes. Ransom can almost imagine a faint glimmer of recognition in them, as Ne’Reun’Dal finally realizes that he will breath no more. The Priest then falls forward onto his face, his skull making a dull pop as it shatters against the hardened ground. His remaining minions, who had stopped attacking as if stunned and disoriented by his demise, suddenly disappeared in a cloud of fetid dust, which slowly settled to the earthen ground.
 
Ransom quickly looks around the room looking for Nan, and sees her sitting on the ground seemingly uninjured, yet covered in the dust, grime, and foul debris of the prolonged battle. She was too exhausted to even look up as he approached settled down on the ground next to her. Placing her hands in his,
 
“Thank you for saving me, Nan. I owe you my life,” he said smiling, “And before you can scold me, please find it within yourself to forgive me for getting involved in this mess. I had no idea at all, that this would happen.”  
 
He paused, then, “But I must ask, just how did you know I was here?”
 
Nan managed a smile in return, although it seemed to pain her “You left this behind when you left early this morn” gingerly handing him a page of intricately penned parchment.
 
It was the summons that he had received the prior day,
 
                     A meeting will commence at the Catacombs at half past fortnight.
 
“Well, I guess I’ll have to explain all of this when you are feeling stronger. But for now, I thank you again for rescuing me, and I believe we should get away from here without any further delay” he said as he stood up and prepared to crumple up the parchment and toss it aside.
 
Nan winks at him, and in a voice tinged with fatigue says’ “Aye, we should take our leave, but I shall expect my reward later in abundance!”
 
Ransom was about to reply when some printing on the crumpled parchment caught his eye. Smoothing it out and peering more closely, Ransom could make out some very tiny print that he must have missed before. He suddenly turned cold and the parchment fell from his hand,
 
                    A meeting will commence at the Catacombs at half past fortnight
 
And then down at the very bottom of the page, almost too small to make out
 
                       Induction of the Oath will commence following the meeting
 
Ransom figured he had already been down here for hours. But before he could think any further, a door slowly creaked open on the far side of the cavern.
 
-------
 
What would be so wrong? Ransom kept asking himself that so many times that his head began to throb as if having listened to hours upon hours of droning Canthan music performed by the strolling performers in Kaineng Center. It was enough to make his stomach twist and knot, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he had not eaten for almost a whole day, he was confident that any residual food matter in his stomach would have found its way unto the hard dirt floor that he was now standing on.
 
Standing. Ransom was just standing. Ransom chuckled inwardly at this simple act. It was simple now, but in perhaps just a few moments, he might find it hard, even impossible, to remain in an upright vertical position as his eyes slowly focused on the open door across the cavern.
 
Resplendent in shimmering robes as they slowly ambled out of the open door were 4 Necromancers. Forming a line with their minions, all 40 of them, they surveyed the scene before them. Seeing the floor littered with the debris of minions and other assorted creatures, they came to the suspicion that the meeting had not gone well for Ne’Reun’Dal. And then after looking down the long cavern to the other end, their suspicions were confirmed when they saw just Nan, Ransom, a few heroes, and a lone Flesh Golem standing there.
 
The catacomb was eerily silent. Ransom knew this as he could hear his head throbbing still with “What would be so wrong?” His thoughts were interrupted when Nan gently poked his side and whispered
 
“Awaiting directions, Sir. I’ll let you handle this round.”
 
He wasn’t looking at her, but he could hear a slight hint of trepidation in her voice. After all the battles that they had been through, this might be their last. Ransom warily watched the Necromancers and their minions slowly spread out across the floor, decreasing the chances they any more than 2 or 3 of them would be damaged by any area effect spells.
 
The largest and most elaborately dressed Necromancer then strode out into the middle of the catacomb and calculatingly stopped, just short of Ransom’s and Nan’s longest spell range. He slowly surveyed the area, nodding almost imperceptibly as the minions inched closer to his position. Ransom could see that he had nearly 20 Blood fiends aligned beside him, everyone of them pointed straight at Nan and Ransom’s group.
 
The Necromancer was tall, and judging by the deep crevices that lined his face must be very old. His waist length hair was pure white and very thin, almost as if he taken several fire bolts to his head over the years. In his left hand he held a staff carved from the thigh bone of a Dolyak that glowed faintly of a greenish luminescence that sparkled and wavered every time he moved the staff. Suddenly he raised the staff high and slammed the end deep into the dirt floor. A resounding thunder reverberated around and again through the enclosed catacomb. Ransom’s head throbbed even more as he winced at the echoing noise.
 
“Ransom Everglade!” He bellowed, “What say you about this disaster here?”
 
Surprised that this Necromancer knew his name, but then again not surprised due to all that had recently happened, Ransom felt the throbbing in his head getting worse. These were obviously high-ranking members of Verata’s Cult, and although they could discern when he had invoked the name of Verata, Ransom was not so sure about how much further than that their powers extended. He decided to take a chance.
 
Bowing deeply towards the Necromancer, Ransom calmly stated, “My liege, my friend and I stumbled upon this carnage just a brief moment before you entered. We are as much surprised as you, and as such, we are not assured of our safety if we stay much longer. But you have me at a disadvantage, you know my name, and I know not of yours.”
 
The Necromancer’s stance softened as he pondered Ransom’s request and seeming sincerity. He was about to answer.
 
Thud. The sound echoed through the quiet cavern what seemed like a thousand times. Everyone strained to see what dared to disturb the silence.
 
At Ransom’s feet lay the bone white carved staff that was once held by Ne’Reun’Dal. A light green glow emanated from the staff that seemed to emulate the color that Ransom was now turning. After picking it off of the ground next to Ne’Reun’Dal, he had slung the staff over his shoulder, but now it somehow had slipped off while Ransom was not paying attention, and landed on the floor with a dull thud.
 
Ransom slowly raised his head and looked at the large Necromancer just in time to see enlarging green globules of energy forming in both of his hands while he was looking directly at Ransom.
 
------
 
The green globules soared far over Ransom’s head and exploded harmlessly against the cavern wall raining shards of rock and dust over Nan and Ransom, who having anticipated the spells, had thrown themselves to the ground and covered their heads with their hands. Hearing no further spells being chanted, they both quickly stood up. Ransom peered incredulously through the lingering dust at the Necromancer as Nan brushed off and straightened up her armor.
 
The Necromancer was on his knees laughing and did not even see them stand up, he was laughing so hard. Ransom and Nan stood silently, as although the Necromancer was preoccupied, his minions were still watching them very closely. He slowly stopped laughing, and with the help of his staff, pushed himself to his feet. He swept his hair out of his eyes and wiped them with the edge of his robe.
 
“Ransom, young necromancer, you are a bold liar”, he sneered, “but I admire your courage, and well, truth be told, we’ve been looking to get rid of Ne’Reun’Dal for quite some time now”, he said, a wide smile appearing on his aged face.
 
“He has, well, shall we say, fallen out of sorts with myself and my council, for quite some time now actually.” He paused, as if catching his breath, “So you have actually done us a favor. I hate to lose good minions though, but, well, sometimes everything doesn’t work totally out.”
 
Ransom’s head was really throbbing now, and Nan was shifting uncomfortably back and forth on her feet, ready to dodge another spell, if need be.
 
“So, young necromancer, you and your group are free to go, assuming of course, that is what you want to do. We have no quarrel with you now,” and with that he nodded his head, and as if choreographed, the minions and the other 3 Necromancers silently moved to the side, clearing a path to the door.
 
Ransom was not going to let this opportunity pass, and after quickly deciding not pick up Ne’Reun’Dal’s fallen staff, hurriedly ushered his group through the throngs of drooling minions, noticing that the 3 Necromancers turned jaundiced eyes toward him and his group as they passed.
 
Arriving at the door and pausing, Ransom turned and addressed the Necromancer after bowing deeply,
 
“My Liege, to you goes our most humble appreciation, but I still do not know your name, or even where you’re from.”
 
The Necromancer turned and stared at Ransom with a coldness that seemed to penetrate Ransom to the core of his soulless body.
 
“You will one day. Rest assured, soon enough, you will know”
 
Before Ransom could reply, all of the Necromancers and their attendant minions disappeared in a flash of blinding light, leaving the area as if they had never even been there. Ransom realized the throbbing in his head had all but abated now and turned to Nan, who was rubbing her eyes and still trying to discern if this had all really happened.
 
“A most interesting day we’ve had. I believe it is time for a stop at the beach!”
 
She stopped rubbing her eyes long enough to glance up at him and smiled widely,
 
“Lead on”