-Ahhhhh!!!! Yes!!!! My flesh is restored!!! [The man before you laughs, ominously.] I'd forgotten the pleasures, the feelings, the rush of blood running through my veins. It's ecstasy...!
-Who are you?
-[He looks at you, surprised, as if he's forgotten that you were there.] Me? I am Torian Kel, Warlord in the Gray Legions of the Derian-Ka. [He looks around, at both you and the surrounding temple.] How many years has it been...? All of this, and you...so unfamiliar...
-I don't know...how long were you like that?
-I...I don't know. I was a warrior, raised from the grave to serve in the undead legions of the Derian-Ka. We fought a great battle with the...what was it?...So many years ago, and I am all that is left...[A great sorrow passes over his features.] Alone, so alone...
-Torian Kel...I have many questions. Might you answer them?
-[The warrior shakes himself, turning to you.] Forgive me. I owe you a debt of gratitude. [He holds an arm over his breast, bowing slightly.] What question did you have?
-I had some questions about the Derian-Ka...
-What would you like to know about the Derian-Ka?
-Who were they?
-The Derian-Ka was the ancient Order of the Dead, formed by the disciples of the great necromancer, Kerghan, in the years following his banishment. They were a secret society, unknown for years, who practiced the arts of Dark Necromancy...
-Why was it so secret? What were they doing?
-Perhaps things are different now, but the practice of the dark necromantic arts was forbidden for many years. The Derian-Ka lived among the shadows for centuries, wielding their dark magicks behind locked doors, uncovering the secrets of the spirit worlds...soul-poisons, the raising of the undead [He points to himself.], speaking with spirits beyond the grave...
-What happened to them?
-There was a great schism in the Order. Within the Derian-Ka were an order of assassins. They were called the Molochean Hand, and for centuries they were the silent weapon of the Derian-Ka, a deadly defense against the world and its prejudices. But one day the Hand turned against the Order, and there was war between them...
-And so? What caused the schism...?
-I never knew what happened to cause that rift. But because of it, the Gray Legions were raised...
-What were the Gray Legions?
-The Gray Legions were a great army of the undead, raised by the Derian-Ka as protection against the Molochean Hand. Our sole purpose was to eradicate all traces of the Hand, so that the Order could continue...
-You spoke of a great battle?
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-[Torian Kel seems lost in thought, his eyes somewhere far away.] 10,000 strong we were, fearless and of one mind. Standing upon that battle-field, the darkened sky reflected in our black, burnished Dread-Armor...the stamping cavalry on their Shadow Stallions behind the endless rows of the stone-faced pikemen. It was cold, but we had no breath...the air was so still...
...
The Hand? Yes, the Hand...[A look of pain, regret.] The Hand were the greatest warriors of their time. Quick, deadly, precise. They stood across from us, on the opposite ridge. Lightly armored, faces masked...their archers armed with Elven Great Bows, almost as tall as they were. [His voice is a whisper.] And fire, stranger, so much fire...
...
Oh yes...there was a battle the likes of which Arcanum had never seen, perhaps will never see again. The Hand threw themselves against us, we without death, time and time again. They severed the arm that held the sword, burned the body which held the arm, destroyed the souls within those bodies...the Hand, you see, were themselves not unlearned in the ways of magick...
...
Yes...the Gray Legions fell on that day, but so did many of the Molochean Hand. A few soldiers from both armies stumbled off the battlefield, and were lost to history. The Derian-Ka were never heard from again...
...
As I said, there were a few Gray Legionnaires who survived. Because we were undead, we walked Arcanum for centuries, trying to stay hidden from the eyes of man. But the flesh, even the flesh of the undead, cannot last forever. Little by little, year by year, our earthly shells decayed...
...
Yes...and I was fortunate. Do you see the piles of dust scattered here and there? Those are the last remains of my companions. Dead, but not dead...you see, their souls are still trapped here on this plane. Forever tied to their earthly remains. A curse...a cruel, cruel curse...
...
There is nothing I can do. The Dragon's Blood pool can restore the flesh, but even it has its limits. Nothing will ever raise my comrades from the dust. They will live on...without voice, without dreams, without vision...