Korhil strode determinedly into the room, a dusty, half rusted chamber in the abandoned military base. He surveyed the assembled men, bandits really; enemies not two days ago stood at attention.
“Well at least we’ve got something to wipe our arses with here, lads.”
That got a few chuckles and several awkward glances.
“You think the world has gone to shit now? But I tell you the worst is yet to come.”
Korhil raised a gauntlet above the heads of his troops and slowly flexed his fingers.
“I’ve seen milennia go by. Long days under a blessed autumn sun and what feels like an eternity of nights in the dark. I was old when Breland was young…”
He notes the unsettling effect his words are having on the men. His eyes take on a reddish tint and he grows paler in the weak light of the base.
“The worst is yet to come… How many do you think have died in this wasteland since we came scrapping out of our vaults and camps? Their numbers are nothing compared to those who disappeared in the moments of horror as the dragons struck the kingdoms that were. They want it back you know, the dead that is. You call the filth out there ghouls, as if you could even imagine… the hands, grasping, clawing, swelling behind the weight of score upon score of souls… angry… hungry.”
Korhil continues to grow paler as he speaks, wrestling with the creature inside.
“Have you seen him eat anything?” The minotaur breathes to the dwarf standing next to him.
“I haven’t seen him take off that armor and sleep. I’m not sure he gets hungry…” The dwarf whispers back.
Korhil looks directly at Rooster, “I hunger, never doubt it. But I haven’t got time for this now.” The eladrin raises a hand, dropping all of the lights in the muster room and plunging it into blackness.
Men grope about, fumbling for cantrips and flares. Korhil’s voice rises in the dark,
“There are things out there, wanting to pull you down into the plane of darkness and gnaw at your bones for an eternity. But there are others…”
Soft lights play at outlining his form, those eyes glowing eerily in the din.
“There are others you couldn’t conceive of yet. The dead are looking to come back and when they do, they’ll take it all. I’ve come to reclaim this place, not for a gang or a mob, but for the living. Believe me when I tell you that all we have is each other.”
The lights around Korhil begin to pulse, driving the eyes of the assembled men into a maddening state of disorientation.
“Loyalty will see you through. I’ll have your fealty; there’s no room for mercenary greed or rank cowardice here. You tell every raider, bandit and mercantile pawn you meet that it’s time things were done differently…”
A dog makes it’s way into the room, snarling and snapping at the speaker shrouded in gloom. A gauntleted fist stills the barking momentarily as the figure is replaced by a horror.
The voice of the Revenant booms across the room,
“Tell them the monsters are coming.” The massive vampire reaches down and tears the dog’s head off, raising the pulsing corpse above his mouth.
“More accurately… tell them they’re already here.”
The whistling begins as chaos descends into the room. When the lights are brought back up, Korhil is sitting weakly in the corner with Brondel. He looks up weakly, his armor again stained in blood.
“If you won’t join me, friends, what chance do we have? Tell them all; tell them there’s only going to be one Reclamation, that of the living or the dead.”