Nevrek encounters the Vishmiir: Part 1

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This is Chapter One of Nevrek's Encounters with the Vishmiir.

The Vishmiir are mysterious beings affiliated with the Unliving, sending masses of the undead to do battle with the living. They seek to "make the world Cold" and make this known to all as they try to utilize the commoner's speech, though in broken sentences. They do not vocalize their words, however, instead relying on a form of telepathy, which can extend over a wide range. At present, it is noted that their abilities for telepathic projection can encompass the entire continent, and have penetrated the Dragonspine Mountains as deep as Zul Logoth.

The Vishmiir must not be named if one wishes to hold onto his life. In the following documentation of my seeking their origins, I was spared, for some reason. I am in the minority. Do not test them, as they will have no qualms with leeching your very soul from your shivering body.

Chapter One: Understanding

I decided that I would find an out of the way locale in which to delve into the origins of the Vishmiir, as I did not want any interruptions. I decided on a place of rememberance of the departed, an old Mausoleum on the Coastal Cliffs.

[Coastal Cliffs, Mausoleum]
The interior of this mausoleum is dim, the air dry and stale. It appears to have been carved and hollowed out of a solid stone outcropping, its construction keeping the contents free of rot and decay. Primitive friezes in low bas relief cover the walls, telling of raging tides, storms and warriors lost at sea. I also see a stone sarcophagus.
Obvious exits: out.

I kneel down.

I say, "I forfeit my life as I invoke the name of the Vishmiir, in the efforts of acquisition of understanding."

In the likely event of my demise, I needed a plan for escape, so I contacted the bizarre yet reliable Sayori.

I focus my mind on Sayori and think:
"Well, I just spoke of the Vishmiir.. I'm hoping to ask them something."
Roundtime 5 seconds.

I must be alert, for I have "Invited Doom to Tea." as the Nalfein say.

I survey the area.

I say, "I do not challenge, quite the contrary.. I accept the fate of speaking the name, but understanding I must haff."

I frown.

A feeling of darkness suddenly encroaches upon my mind, as if a million leeches had covered the surface of my brain. A rancid feeling of utter sickness washes over me as the presence begins to squeeze the very fabric of my being, tearing at it with unbridled hatred.

I feel drained!

I am assailed! My bones feel empty, my blood chills, my skin greys as I blanch in pain. I must persist!

I give my eyebrow a little workout.

The feeling slowly fades away, but it leaves me feeling drained.

I must persist!

I do my best impression of a grizzly, probably scaring people for miles!

(I cover my chest with a gloved hand.)

(My arm twitches suddenly.)

I exclaim, "I beseech you!"

I exclaim, "I must know!"

I exclaim, "If you are from beyond the Veil, it is You who vill bring Balance to this vorld!"

I exclaim, "I implore you, tell me!"

I raise my fist in a display of defiance.

I clench my fist.

My skull felt hollow, as if a void festered and laid larvae of nothingness within my brain. Bitter cold swept through my head, down my spine.

I hear a voice like icy daggers stab into my mind, "Under... standing... little one? There... is only... one thing... to understand. Your kind... will be... nothing. The world... will be cold... and lifeless... once... we are through... with it." The voice fades away, leaving only the quiet stillness of the mausoleum once again.

I grit my teeth.

A clue, perhaps? "The world will be cold." the voice said. Now the task of interpreting what this coldness is...

I say, "It is how it should be."

I feel less drained.

I say, "This vorld needs to be balanced in Unlife."

I say, "Life rules this vorld, it needs vhat is beyond the veil, it needs the Unlife to balance it."

(I labor to breathe, pulling at my shirt.)

...Silence...it is here I pray to myself that they are as I believe, and I realize that my voiced hopes have been heard only by the walls of the mausoleum itself. I resign myself to the failure of my attempted realization of the Vishmiir...

I mutter bitterly.

I say, "Time... time vill tell if ve are allied in our goals, at the least."

I will continue to pry into the Vishmiir and uncover their agenda, which I believe to be simplistic in nature, but a mystery still. Perhaps they are a natural force, though unnatural to our world? Perhaps they are part of the Unlife, perhaps they will even the scales...

I hang my head.

I rub my eyes.

I vigorously shake my head.

I close my eyes for a moment.

(I struggle to my feet, leaning against the sarcophagus.)

I stand back up.

I ponder the meaning of life, the universe, and everything.

I survey the area.

Nothing. It is over. There is nothing more to be said, and I move to depart.

I turn around.

I stride away, moving out.

[Coastal Cliffs, Cemetery]
A plain and dreary little mausoleum of grime-streaked stone, pockmarked by erosion and damaged by looters, stands empty and abandoned in a small clearing by itself.
Obvious paths: northeast.

I mutter bitterly.

A blood-stained shambling carcass just arrived.

Bah! The dead come for me as I leave!

I glance at a blood-stained shambling carcass.

I remove a dark elven warshield emblazoned with shadowy runes of the house of Faendryl from in my spidersilk cloak.

A blood-stained shambling carcass gestures at me!
The ground beneath my feet begins to boil violently!
I dodge out of the way!
The ground then quickly cools.

I say, "Trouble me no more, dead thing."

A blood-stained shambling carcass swings a bone-handled black mace at I!
AS: +155 vs DS: +279 with AvD: +34 + d100 roll: +12 = -78
A clean miss.

I am far too weakened by my brief visit by the Vishmiir to do away with the dead. I am still recovering from their vampiric drain of my soul, I will have to subdue the beast and move on. It will exist to fight another time...

I touch one finger to my lips.

I say, "Shh.."

I point at a blood-stained shambling carcass.
I project my will upon my opponents! I entranced a blood-stained shambling carcass!

I furrow up my face and wince.

[Coastal Cliffs, Cemetery]
A plain and dreary little mausoleum of grime-streaked stone, pockmarked by erosion and damaged by looters, stands empty and abandoned in a small clearing by itself. I also see a blood-stained shambling carcass who appears rather calm.
Obvious paths: northeast.

The carcass moans evilly!

I must move quickly...

[Coastal Cliffs, Cemetery]
Broken stones, streaked grey with mold, are placed at regular intervals in small clearings beside the path. I also see a blood-stained shambling carcass.
Obvious paths: northeast, southeast, southwest.

Bah! More of them! The carcass moans evilly!
A blood-stained shambling carcass gestures at me!
The ground beneath my feet begins to boil violently!
I dodge out of the way!
The ground then quickly cools.

I slowly and deliberately empty my filled lungs.

I touch one finger to my lips.

I say, "Shh.."

I point at a blood-stained shambling carcass.
I project my will upon my opponents! I entranced a blood-stained shambling carcass!

The carcass moans evilly!

I grit my teeth.

[Coastal Cliffs, Cemetery]
Broken stones, streaked grey with mold, are placed at regular intervals in small clearings beside the path. I also see a blood-stained shambling carcass who appears rather calm.
Obvious paths: northeast, southeast, southwest.

To town...

[Coastal Cliffs, Cemetery]
The strange song of the Sirenflower is more distinct and more eerie here. Tree branches, heavy with the old growth and dripping with vines, seem to bend over in mourning. I also see a northwest path and a northeast trail that slopes steeply down.
Obvious paths: southwest.

[Coastal Cliffs, Small Hillock]
A gentle, grassy slope rises out of the darkness of the surrounding forest. To the southeast, the gloom of the dim woods seems distant, yet too close for comfort. I also see a southeast path that slopes down into the woods.
Obvious paths: west.

[Coastal Cliffs, Small Hillock]
The grassy hillock levels out gradually to a smooth, flower-dotted plateau. Dragonflies hover on the ocean breeze, soaring and dipping in a playful, airy dance. I also see a dark spectral monk and a ghost.
Obvious paths: east, west.

I make my way onto the hillock...

A dark spectral monk swings a long blackened scythe at me!
AS: +215 vs DS: +237 with AvD: +24 + d100 roll: +100 = +102
... and hits for 1 point of damage!
A feeble blow to my left arm!

...and quickly duck under a spectral monk's scythe blade.

I scowl at a dark spectral monk.

The ghost wails with an unearthly cry!
A ghost swings a short sword at I!
AS: +30 vs DS: +237 with AvD: +17 + d100 roll: +49 = -141
A clean miss.

I touch one finger to my lips. I say, "Shh.." I point at a dark spectral monk. I project my will upon my opponents! I entranced a dark spectral monk!

I feel that nervous twitch starting up again.

A dark spectral monk utters an arcane incantation.

[Coastal Cliffs, Small Hillock]
The grassy hillock levels out gradually to a smooth, flower-dotted plateau. Dragonflies hover on the ocean breeze, soaring and dipping in a playful, airy dance. I also see a dark spectral monk who appears rather calm and a ghost.
Obvious paths: east, west.

...and so I returned to town, weakened and only slightly closer to my goal of discovering the origins of the Vishmiir, and gaining any new insight on their goals. I believe, at the time of this recording, that the Vishmiir are from beyond the Veil, are part of the Unlife therein, and will be the agents to bring balance to the World. The scales of Life and Unlife will be set to Balance under the hands of the Vishmiir.

- Lord Nevrek Araknathalin

See Also