Undead Blues


The reasons why had been long forgotten, but there it existed: an entryway into the depths of the earth where stink and decay were ever present. It was here that Roman citizens of old were buried in bulk in this catacombic crypt. These bones and rotting pieces of flesh would have been at peace for many years, hidden safe away to be forgotten. But the cursed tomb had been rudely disturbed. Whether from sloppy raiders or experimenting necromancers, it was not yet determined, but the fallen bodies had risen once again to roam the ancient hallways in bloodlusting revenge.

Chivah knew of this plaque, and how the Cornwall villagers feared this undead threat. Livestock and children disappeared weekly, hired guards were found slain in the night, and the occational illness arose to claim many lives. This knight of the church was determined to end this curse if at all possible and raced on steed to his destination.

As he rode across the countryside in leather of brown, Chivah mentally went over the letter he had sent to an old friend: Peiter, a cleric of the church.

"My dear brother in Christ,

It has been a while since our last meeting, and I'm quite sure the Lyonesse brutes have not yet forgotten the beating we gave them. I pray this letter finds you well, and that the Lord has richly blessed you and your household.

Unfortunatly, I fear this letter can no longer tarry in personal greetings as I must inform you of a matter of utmost importance. The church has received word that the undead threat of Cornwall worsens, and the citizens there have suffered more deaths this past week than the entire past month.

I have been dispatched by the church to quell this undead surge and I desire your assistance if at all possible. I know you to be a brave and skillful cleric of the church, and together, we might find a way to end this curse.

I'm sorry this letter did not come with a more cheerful message, but as you know, time in these matters is critical.

God bless you my friend. I hope to see you soon.



Peiter awakens one morning to hear a discussion going on outside of his door.  He slowly stands and stretches as a yawn escapes from him.  As he puts on his robe, he notices a letter sticking out from under his door.  Curiosity gets the best of him as he picks it up.

"Hmm..this is Chivah's handwritting" he thinks to himself as he sits on the edge of the bed.  He opens and unfolds the letter and begins to read it.

As he finishes the letter, he stands and walks to the door of his room.  Peiter gently pulls it open.  "Jebediah!" he shouts. "Prepare my armor and have me a horse readied at the stable.  I am heading out for Cornwall in two days.  I will have a letter for you to deliver to Chivah on the hour."

Peiter sits at his desk and begins to write.

"Brother Chivah,

It is so good to hear from you again!  After our attempts to conquer the Stygian Delta, I was sure that our paths would not cross for some time.  With my work in the town, and you out spreading the Good News, I did not know when we would meet up.

I have caught wind of what is going up in Cornwall, but there was not much we could do here from Camelot City.   We have been over burdened with the villiagers and refugees from out past Sauvage.  Those brutal outlanders have been taking a toll on the settlers.

I am due up for a few days of rest, as another member of the faith has come forward to help here.  I shall set out for Cornwall station in two days.  We shall together investigate these catacombs, and see if we can offer the people any releif.  I am truly honored you would send me this message to fight by your side.  I shall keep you in my prayers and I will see you soon.

Your brother in Christ,


Peiter stands up, hands the letter to Jebediah to deliver, and pours himself some coffee.

"I look forward to our journey, my brother" he thinks to himself. "But right now, I have injured soldiers to tend to."


ooc: 'doh! Sorry Icthus. he he he


The rooster crowed, signifying the break of dawn as the tame Cornish hens pecked innocently in their pens.  It was the first light of the day that gently nudged his sleepy eyes to wake.  Chivah yawned and stretched in the soft down bed that had been accommodated to him, but his alertness increased sharply as he noticed the red sky outside his room's window.  "Red dawn." he muttered sorrowfully to himself.  "Blood has been spilt this day."

In the room's corner lay his shined armor of plate.  It had been his guardian for many moons and it would be called to service once again.  As the paladin suited up, he prayed silent to himself.

"Heavenly father,

  I come before you, a weak and flawed descendant of mankind.  Yet I also come before you as a royal inheritor and friend of your Son Jesus.  I pray that this day you become a lamp to my feet and a light to my path, for my footsteps wind down into the treacherous valley of death.  Still, I shall fear no evil, for thine rod and thine staff are with me.  I place upon my vulnerable body and heart the breastplate of righteousness, as I seek to do your will and follow in your ways and not mine own.  I girde my waist with truth, for it is only in truth that I can better stand against the darkness.  My feet are shod with the gospel of peace, for I will not let fear and discouragement of the enemy slow my steps.  Upon my arm I bear the shield of faith, so that doubt and confusion do not pierce my heart.  At my side lies the sword of the spirit, for your promises and wisdom shall be my enemy's downfall.  And last, I wear the helm of salvation, to remind me that it is not my deeds that save me, but my faith in your Son, Christ Jesus.  Go with me Lord, as I go west to head off the evil that goes east.  In your Son's name I pray.  A-men."

The bar had been full of solemn chatter as the locals discussed last night's death of a young boy, who had been hanging around the catacomb entrance on a dare.  The room had been quite noisy for morning breakfast, but in a sudden moment, all movement of bodies and lips ceased.  The only sound that now permeated the room was that of clanking metal, which only grew louder from the stairwell.  The patrons watched with silent curiosity as the knight entered the room and clanked his way to the bartender.  Was this going to be another futile attempt to remove the curse of the lands, or would this man finally be Cornwall's savior?  Only time would truly tell.

"Barkeep."  called Chivah.  "Any word for me?"

"Nae milord."

"What of Sir Peiter.  Have you heard from him?"

"Nae milord.  I have not."

Chivah thought for a moment, not noticing that all eyes were focused on him.  He turned to the barkeep.  "What of Lady Katriona?  I hear she's been hunting in this area."

"Lady Katriona has been called away to fight some battle in Avalon City."

It would seem that this paladin would have to brave the depths alone, or so he thought.

"Would you care for any breakfast milord?"

"No thank you.  I must no longer tarry in my quest."

"Good luck sire."

The paladin took a step out the door and paused long enough to breathe in the morning air.  It was still fresh and it pleased his senses.  With a renewed resolve, Chivah marched his way to the entrance, not noticing the arrival of Jebediah.  The young messenger passed him on the road and raced to enter the tavern with scroll clutched in his eager hands.