Wastelands of the Necromancer

The Wastelands

I am the Arch Mage, master of the primordial elements, head of the Burchwald College, and master of the great schools of the mystical arts. As customary for my post, and the progression of knowledge in the many realms of man, I write this tome out of respect for my long gone friend, and the hope that none may forget some of the greatest tragedies and epics in history. It is with this goal in mine, that I pen this tale, and it is with that truth to which I write the tale of the most dangerous magi in history.

In the long and near infinite mysteries of the magi, there exist accounts of the origin and birth, of the most dreaded empire of abominable sorcery and demented minds. An empire long buried, and one that even the oldest scholar, would struggle to detail it's history in true accuracy. Indeed, by the estimation of greater spirits and elder beasts, the memory of that empire is an old nightmare that man was the creator of, and eventual destroyer.

That empire, is the Empire of the Dranor Lach, or Dread Lich. It is this empire that ruled for a near 1,000 years of brutal worship to the Dark Gods, and it is one of the few blessings that I may know, to have never seen such dreaded ceremonies. Dranor Lach was formed in the province of Vesuvus, the very same land that still pumps life choking smoke into the air of the world, and will never cease pumping with the hot blood of the land, until the end of time.

Vesuvus, named for it's mighty volcano and great ash filled plains. In long forgotten days, it is suspected the land was once as pure as the fertile fields of Sunglade, but that is mere speculation. The land of Vesuvus is not for any sane man to test his fortune. The poisonous breath of that damned mountain chokes the life out of the air, and even the hardiest mountainfolk would near suffocate if they venture too deeply into the open crags and crevices of the land. As such, it has paradoxically became the domain of vile rogues, and dark magi. My field of study is in the arcane, yet I'd hazard the reason being it's own prison. For no organization would chase a criminal into such a hellscape, nor any bounty hunter save the most foolish would wager it to be profitable.

Vesuvus as a whole, was and is ruled in truth, by a murderous collection of Dark Magi, Sorcerers, and foul Warlocks. What brings these terrible beings to such a terrible land? Relative solitude and secrecy is it's own benefit. In their black iron fortresses, their obsidian towers and underground lairs they practice their forbidden arts like demented Gods of their own world. And in truth, I shudder to think of some of the experimental results that travel to the Southlands. Even today, I hear tales of twisted abominations of flesh and spirit who ravage whole towns, murdering the innocent folk down to the last child.

It is there in that ash filled plain, do those foul beings roost deep into the earth, behind magic and stone. However, even though the days of the Dranor Lach are long past, I fear the powers hiding there still hold some archaic memory of it. The very same rogues and thieves who make their prison there, are the mercenary forces of these twisted magi. They'd rather damn their soul to the lowest circles of Hell, then to perish in the wasteland of Vesuvus, and such there service to such dark masters are sealed. It is a strange society, if you dare call it that, in which they are known simply as the Blackguard. Among the hierarchy of evil and corruption, these newly trained murderers and rapists are empowered by their masters, and serve as dangerous commanders of raiders.

And with all of this now told, the story may begin. For it is in the land of Vesuvus, in the Obsidian tower of Garkal, domain of the infamous Sorcerer and Demonologist Ortan Sello.

In the tower of Garkal, it Is said that when the winds of Vesuvus grow in power, Ortan is seen at the highest point of his domain, channeling the very power of fire and air, chaining spirits of death and pain to his service. His territory is perhaps the largest on the northern face of Vesuvus, and under his command, he rules over 300 Blackguard, and a near thousand of lesser raiders and foul beasts. He has no allies, for in this land an ally is only a foe who'll stab you in the back. His foes however, are paradoxically his most honest of critics. To them, he is an arrogant fool who relies too much on fey spirits. To some, he is an upstart that relies too much on his "Vermin" to do his work. And for the rest, he is just as brutal and cunning as any magi in Vesuvus.