DBN, Thursdays at the Game Preserve.

Greenmire looks.. different.

It was a dark and foggy midday?

Garrack of the Greenmire town guard returns home after experiencing a disturbing awakening of a Black dragon of some apparent strength. He has learned form various sources that this particular dragon was locked away for various unspeakable crimes against the entirety of creation, and though the other dragons were unwilling to allow him to go unpunished for his transgressions, he was exiled as punishment. On his way back to town, he was met by several other envoys from other nations and factions that were aware of the Dragon’s premature release who wished to investigate and hinder any new plans the Dragon had cooked up during his time in solitary. They included Bombur, a Runepriest/Paladin of Moradin, Dorn, a Barbarian wielding a pair of mighty Bastard swords, and Lihi, a Deva Invoker. The paths of the converging group all seemed to be heading to Greenmire, and with things being what they were, it was deemed wise to travel together. Upon nearing Greenmire, the group noticed a profound lack of life nearby. All was silent, even the animals and general noises were muted. Greenmire was open, gates left wide, but there was no one to be seen. After examining some of the homes near the gate, the party heads off to see if they can find anyone moving in the disturbingly quiet town. Garrack wanted to see if Hamer and his wife were still around. Along the way, the found several bodies of townsfolk who appeared to have succumbed to a strange illness. None of them had physical injuries or signs of a struggle, they simply looked to have lain down and died. Hamer and his wife were located, two of, according to them, only a couple dozen people who were still alive and trying to keep the town habitable, for when the plague might pass away, the town would try to pick up and rebuild. They related a story of a shadowy form flying over the town a week or so back, which dropped some “thing” into the city square. Everyone who tried to investigate over the next 24 hours was overwhelmed by dread and fled, and none were willing to return. By then, the plague was beginning to show it’s effects. People grew tired, fatigued, and were having trouble keeping up with even normal daily tasks. A couple score people seemed to be unaffected, and many of them decided to leave town, leaving only 20 or so townsfolk wandering around. Hamer and Giselle sent their daughter away to be with family in Parthe, hoping the larger town would not be attacked so readily. The party asked for news of some others that had decided to live in Greenmire through this ordeal, braving the rolling, seemingly sentient, fog, and the shuffling shambling zombies who had begun appearing near it. There was another couple only a block away, and the party escorted Hamer and Giselle through the town streets, wary of any movement. The other couple had little new to pass along, having traded information with Hamer over the last couple of days, their stories mostly identical. In the middle of the conversation, however, a spectral hand appeared from behind the couple, coming through the very wall of the building they were standing in front of, and seemed to seize the poor man’s very soul, pulling it from his body and releasing it as a wraith. Zombies appeared from behind the party, and the fog began rolling in from the front. the wraiths began to attack the humble townsfolk, who attempted to flee through the streets, and while Hamer and Giselle escaped, the other woman was not so lucky, and joined the ranks of the haunting wraiths. The fog floated silently along, raising up the bodies of the townsfolk as more zombies, who immediately turned to attack the party as well. Once the group managed to silence the undead in the immediate area, they quickly headed off to the center of town, now very anxious to end the cause of the horrible plague and the fog that had come with it to Greenmire. From overhead, the party heard the voice of the Dragonborn Necromancer (who they have still not managed to find a name for) who was hanging form a harness under the belly of the Black Dragon that everyone was looking for and seemed to be very scared of.

The DBN called down to the party, mocking them and informing them that all of this was his doing, and that he had left the town “in good hands” as he put it. He then commanded the dragon to fly off towards the west, and away they went.

A few careful insight checks by the party resulted in a consensus that the DBN was in fact not the one in control, and was himself more than a little scared of the Dragon.



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