The abominations summed by those most wicked magicians, the necromancers, wield powers unholy and unimaginable as I learned that afternoon in fields outside Darokin.
Having dispatched one of the Prince's Peradur generals, a Malverius mongrel, my companions and I felt that the day's tide was turning in our favor. So many of his horrors had fallen that day that we felt, though all but my basest prayers answered, on the verge of victory! Hope as bright at Pelor's rays!
On that vile day I first learned of a most wicked creature, the banshee, with it's pitiful wailings of horror and forlorn! It seems the Prince had banked, correctly, on our lack of preparedness for such an an assault. Where his minion's mettle was no match for our might, his horde's aural assault brought us to the brink of defeat.
The first wave came from a most horrific beat. Blind and grotesque it meandered at us at at slow trod. It's arms, though baring savage claws, hung uselessly at its sides. From its belly bellowed a bone shattering groan. Indeed it was so great that it shattered the neglected long sword at my side. My rhoonian bolts proved to be of little effectiveness and it was indeed the brawn of Buliwyf who finally brought the beast to its gnarled knees, though not before it had deafened the wizard.
Though prone to such fumblings the wizard would turn out to be most blessed, perhaps by Dimera, as that deafness saved him from the moans of the eight spectral sirens who had encircled us. I did not suffer so well as their screeching shattered something inside me and left me, for the first time in this second life, feeling less than well.
Buliwyf then acted in a most confounding way, tearing off that awful amulet that protected him from the wrath of the wraith wall. In mere seconds the northman was just a husk, then, dust caught adrift in the day's dark breeze. Ostead, piercing the earth, began to emit a frost that chilled even our deadened toes. I took the wizard by his shoulder and in the tongue of lord Ainu mouthed, for the wizard's ears were still deaf, that our offensive was over and the time was made for our exit. Avert your eyes he said.
The sun burst, the magic that had helped cleared our paths in Threshold, did not reveal the unadulterated rays of Pelor as hoped. Instead it found the wizard and I in the throne room of Vestangilus. Clad in black I wanted to tear the life from his neck. A broadsword rested atop his lap and from his right hand hung Perditia's felactory. Beside him, chained to the great columns which supported the structure, were two more of the howling beasts we had felled not even an hour prior. At his feet was our companion Buliwyf, nude and bound, by the corpse of our fallen fourth companion. The weak Eleeti we had last seen her with stood quietely rebuked in the corner. The walls were a ghastly white. I took no notice of anything else as I marched forth towards the necromancer unsure of what I would do once I reached him.
Vestangilus had no interest in me, however, for it was the spell book of the wizard he desired. Apparently the book, which I would come to learn had been the possession of the Priestess Aya, was as old as it was arcane. It holds no true pages of its own, only the pages that will be of the most use to its master. In the priestess' possession it was a tome of prayers and histories, in our wizard's, a book of the darkest arts, specifically the same spell book that had brought power and corruption to the black clad bastard before us.
The two casters of corruption bartered for the book, but it was our wizard, Wilhelm, who finally saw the light and unsheathed a peculiar blade, a kris, he had bought some time prior during our adventures at sea. The necromancer laughed at the blade's paltry magic, believing that our wizard intended to use it against him. Instead he brought its hell down upon that book of evil and spite! Its pages pierced the world again became sublime in its brightness and darkness.
Still in the armor of the Az Neul Fni I awoke with a ringing in my ears along side my companions, for Buliwyf in the chaos of such great magics, and the mercy of lord Ainu, had been restored to our company! Indeed it was of great glory, though his anger over seeing the body of our fourth over came any delight he might have had in breathing the sweet crisp winter air once more.
Regaining our composure and the mighty blade of the sea we returned, with the aid of the wizard's last scroll of teleport, to Darokin where a most brilliant plan of justice and retribution was devised.