In many ways I still do not understand why it is the lord Ainu chose me to be his Harvester and not one who had served him alone in their first life. I am thankful he has though for in his honor I was able to righteously smite that vile necromancer and false prince, Veknavarius, in that cursed tent of Adalantle that long ago day in Threshold.
I was still traveling with my companions the Vector Perditia and the northman Buliwyf, as well as, and I am loathe to admit it, the necromancer Wilhelm Arkis. It was he, with his arcane methods, that had transported us there, through what seemed like time and space it self. I am sure Proheme was not pleased with such devilry! But it was effective and as Ainu desired.
What met us first was a wall of such sadness. Tortured souls bound and intertwined into a blanket of misery. With the light of Ainu emanating from his most favored of human innovations, the scythe, I was able to cut us a passage through that splenetic space. At the city walls Buliwyf, with the aid of a small axe, gave us entry to the city proper. By then the wizard had come up with a more effective, if less sanctimonious, method of plowing safe passage through the spectral fog that encompassed even the city inside.
Little met us inside the walls of Threshold, and again Ainu was to be praised, for he answered my prayers and used what little sway he still had over the vile undead to turn their eyes away from us.
Inside a building I would later come to know as The Coin Perditia found two gnome birthlings wrapped in magicked swaddling clothes. I still do not if it was that they were abandoned or that they were to play some foul role in the prince's machinations. A look into their eyes assured me that what I felt in my heart, that we should save them at all costs, was indeed what Ainu willed. I am still forever grateful that it was Perditia and Buliwyf who wished the carry the younglings, for I do not know how I could have wielded my blade otherwise.
Even before we entered the city I could sense two strong life forces inside the walls. Not the gnomes of course, but perhaps the prince and the one known as Vestangelus, the true root of our problems. With the wizards magics we were again able to safely pass through that fiendish fog and come upon that cursed pink tent of Adalantle. From within emanated life! Perhaps a survivor? We were young in so many ways back then. I parted the flap with the tip of my scythe and was the first to see the visage of a young woman. Buliwyf recognized her instantly, crying out, Natalia! Finally his unexplained business with the fair church of Adalantle made some modicum of sense!
But it was not to be, for Natalia's visage was just that, a facade. Her true form, as she deftly defied the righteous blow of my scythe, revealed! Veknavarius!
And a combat it was as he summoned forth poor Eleeti souls to ward off the wizard as he dealt with the Vecktor, northman, and I. It was to no avail though for we not only outnumbered him but had the wise Ainu on our side. I saw in the poor prince's eyes that it was his time, and though I personally slashed a great deal of the flesh from his face and opened a massive rift in his side, which the Vecktor would later use to pry out his entrails, the final blow, the last breath, would be taken by the mighty blade Ostead wielded by the northman Buliwyf!
As is and was custom I then blessed the rendered corpse and laid the prince to rest beneath the earth. I know Ainu collected that squalid soul that day and escorted him to the lowest depths.