Heavy is the Head

Where to begin?
I figured it would be prudent of me to keep a record of things as I embark on this mission. In all my years of study and exploration, I don't think I've gotten myself into a more precarious situation than the one I currently find myself in. The Pale Master has returned, and soon his influence will stretch across the reaches of Gaes and the entirety of Tallamh as we know it. He was reawakened by a foolish necromancer who thought he could harness the power of artifacts he could not understand, nor hope to control. This foolish necromancer was me, Tobias Morden. I suppose it feels somewhat relieving to write this down, to claim the responsibility for my actions tangibly on paper.
In my youth, the prospect of working for an all-powerful lich was motivating, something to strive for as a goal. Now, I dread the consequences of any action I take, worried that it will somehow help my slave master in his diabolical plans. Because of my mistakes, some friends at Kapital and I embarked on a journey to entreat with the Wraith King. Never in my life or unlife could I have predicted what waited for us in the Castle in the North. I hope to keep this record detailed and impartial, but it is impossible to not have opinons of the events that unfolded that day.
The day started out as usual, Malal coming to me with some random issue that didn't need to be solved, only for me to have to spend the entirety of my morning explaining that fact. Once he was distracted with another task, I was informed of a quest by Koheleth to head for the Castle in the North, and that my presence would be beneficial. Packing my things, and giving Malal some menial tasks, I set out to rendezvous with my companions. We headed north towards the castle on a rather uneventful trip thanks to Bruswick, although we did handrail an empty graveyard during our travels. Part of me thinks this was intentional, a reminder placed in our path by whatever powers control this universe that we were not in comfortable territory. I don't believe in omens, but perhaps that day I should have.
In total, it was Mizzryn, Azrael, Bruswick and myself headed to the castle. Upon entering the Barrowlands we were guided by Aloadae, a Barrowman and my worst fucking nightmare. Needless to say, I stayed quite a few paces behind the party on our travels. We left the Barrowlands after a couple of days of travel, where Aloadae took his leave and left the rest of the journey up to us. We continued our journey north, yet again uneventful thanks to the expertise exhibited by Bruswick. I must say of all practices outside of the arcane, I do find the ability Bruswick employs to ingrain himself into his surroundings to navigate, hunt, stalk, and survive to be one of the more interesting.
Into the Wraith King's territory we went, hoping for diplomacy. Our first encounter was a rather... odd one. We heard hunting dogs in the brush, purusing something through the hunting grounds. We soon met Scarlet, a sorceress of substantial power, and the reason for the hunting party. Bruswick's use of the Pass Without Trace spell would have made the Wizards of Thay proud, a utility spell used to maximum effectiveness. Evading the dogs and the rest of the hunting party (though I must note, there was one individual who decided to equip himself with a pitchfork and a torch to hunt a sorceress, which as I reflect must have been the most convicted man in Tallamh at that given time), we sat and introduced ourselves to Scarlet, who regaled us with the accomplishments of Vincent, a folk hero paladin of the area. Upon learning our intentions to head for the Castle in the North, she warned us to turn back. This was the second omen I ignored, my conviction to fight the Pale Master allowing me to discard caution in hopes of results. As quickly as she came, Scarlet left, leavnig the four of us on our own once again to head into the Castle. Before getting closer, Mizzryn suggested that we talk about our goals, what we hoped to get out of this interaction with the Wraith King. I must commend her for this, getting everyone on the same page was paramount to our success, and it allowed me to explain that we shouldn't treat the Wraith King as an enemy, merely an encounter until we knew more about the situation.
It wasn't long after our discussion we found ourselves nearing the castle proper. Upon approaching the narrowing road towards the outskirts of the castle, we were greeted with thunderous hoofbeat as a fucking cavalry charge headed straight for us. Three ghostly riders on horseback ran us through with lances, nearly skewering Mizzryn after knocking her prone. After a quick combat, Azrael, Bruswick, and Mizzryn all dispatched the cavalry as we were engaged by archers from the parapets. Azrael did his weird shadow-teleport thing that still evades me on whether or not the ability is magic or innate; either way, the sight of a six-foot tall man emerging from a literal shadow is quite horrific. Upon realizing he was outnumbered at least thirty to one, he dropped off the parapet and joined us as we headed into the castle (I should note here as well, Mizzryn was carrying a 140 lb battering ram in her bag like some sort of accessory. This entire time, for the last two weeks, she's been hauling at least 300 lbs of extra armor, weapons, and a battering ram? Sure, Mizzryn moves slowly but never with much effort, and the thought that she's been weighing herself down with these items on each adventure makes me rather terrified of what she would be capable of unhindered).
The castle was everything I could have hoped for and more. The rumors of Kalarel helping build the castle must be true, as the living stone was present. The discovery is fantastic. If Kalarel built more than one tower, there could be dozens more scattered throughout Tallamh. As we entered, we looked around a place known as the Hall of Pillars, a dedicated hall depicting what was left of the Larethian lineage. The statues had been beheaded, but I was still able to parse the feelings of the castle walls. They were waiting for an heir, but eager at the same time, as if the arrival of the heir was close at hand. Here we were attacked by shadows, poor misunderstood creatures that sought to sap our strength. This was the third omen I ignored. Azrael fell victim and was forced to remove his armor due to his lack of strength. As this is a recording of witnessed events, I must say I cannot remember the goings-on of what followed immediately after this, as I had become distracted. Regardless, we found ourselves talking to a rat, which then led to us to finding a secret corridor.
We descended the staircase to find ourselves in a trophy room of some sort, laden with different taxidermied beasts (and humanoid heads) that Bruswick was eager to identify. In the midst of discovery, two of the stuffed creatures animated and attacked. One was a giant shrimp of some sort, a large creature and an imposing adversary. The other was a giant flea, and I hope I never see another one again in my unlife. We dispatched both and studied the room, where I found components consistent with reversing the curse of undeath, though they had lost their magical properties. We also managed to retrieve an ornate shield guarded by beholder eyestalks, which we would later discover belonged to King Elthar Larethian, first of the bloodline. This would come in handy later, but was given to Mizzryn to hold.
With no other doorway but the one we came through, we decided to head back up the stairs towards the Hall of Pillars. The staircase clicked and rotated, and we felt the rooms of the castle moving around us. The castle did not want us getting used to our surroundings and wanted to keep us confused, lost. I ignored this fourth omen as well, believing it to be an intricate defensive design by Kalarel. Regardless, we pressed forward in hopes of finding the Wraith King, and possibly Vincent and his companions.
From here we went back down the stairs, arriving in a different location entirely. A long hallway, complete with busts of the royal line and paintings therein flanked the walkway. Upon passing each, they animated and gave us sage advice about madness, detailing the curse that befell their family. The last bust of King Aeroth (the Wraith King, as he is now known) told us of his decision to rid the castle of his descendents, that the cursed bloodline would end with him. We took this information to heart and proceeded, finding ourselves in an abandoned wine cellar.
Smorkle. A rum gremlin who to this day leaves an impression in my mind. Smorkle told us of Vincent and party, regaling us with the tale of their exploits as we sat and rested with him. Not much else happened here, but I must admit Azrael was still unable to wear armor and I found myself distracted for a second time. We went through a portal leading to a guard tower, where we met Liliana, a paladin who spoke ill of undead as 'monsters.' She was clearly wounded, and probably dying, so I let her finish her last words without rebuttal. I have been called worse, but it never feels good to hear one use their last words to insult your kind and group you all together as 'evil monstrosities that deserve to burn.' Regardless, she didn't want to be turned into what I was, so she asked Mizzryn to dispatch her, to which Mizzryn obliged. Good riddance, in my personal opinon. The less people around who can't see past what people look like the better. We carried on from here, towards a stable for horses.
We met Sir Reginald, a knight and captain of the guard at the Castle in the North. He was respectable, and inquired on our presence on the grounds. After some convincing and playing ignorant, Bruswick managed to get us to the library to wait for an audience with the Wraith King. It was here we stumbled upon a druid named Mirna, another companion of Vincent. She was searching for a way to find Vincent, but Sir Reginald was having none of that. He immediatley sprung into action attacking, revealing he was undead with hellfire behind his eyes. We stepped in to intervene, potentially saving the druid's life but yet again throwing ourselves into the midst of a fight. Mizzryn raised the shield we found in the trophy room in defense of the druid-turned-bear, to which Sir Reginald stopped and greeted Mizzryn as a form of the royal family. After some discussion, we were allowed to rest and wait until Sir Reginald would return to collect us to meet the Wraith King. He escorted us to the throne room where we met him, King Aeroth. Negotiations almost instantly devolved into open combat, and the druid we met in the library proved her worth with a Scroll of Sunbeam that destroyed most of the wraith guards. Unfortunately, she was soon decapitated by the Wraith King's vorpal sword. After some time of combat, and in feeble attempts to convince the Wraith King of our good intentions, all seemed lost when it was revealed to us by the Wraith King, in his anger, that he was not the one keeping Vincent in the castle, the castle was. He had been trying to remove Vincent for quite some time, but found himself at odds with the very castle that he unlived in. Nearly dying but striking an agreement, we decided to help the Wraith King retrieve Vincent and remove him from the castle.
An aside. As a man of intellect, I pride myself on my ability to adapt to situations that arise and find creative solutions to problem. That being said, please understand the stressful situation we found ourselves in, and don't take our decision making in what follows as indication of us as adventurers. It's rather embarrassing to write down, let alone talk about.
We descended into the cathedral, and were met by some colorful characters. Naos, a Goliath griot with a cheery disposition, Thorne, a halfling (who in hindsight has the tenacity to live up to his name), and Albrek, a paladin dedicated to protecting his friend. In the distance was Vincent, using a cursed sword and set on destroying the Wraith King, starting with some ritual we didn't have enough time to understand.
As you've guessed, our negotiations quickly fell apart when Azrael threw a dagger towards Vincent, although he was out of range at the time, so the dagger just clattered to the floor. Suddenly we were in a fight for our lives and unlives. Naos turned out to be a wrecking ball, and Albrek was an immovable wall of force. The fight was hard, but eventually, and with the help of the king's wraiths, we were able to get past Albrek and begin targeting Vincent to prevent him from completing his ritual.
At some point darkness fell the room, and Azrael morphed into an exact copy of Vincent. Upon seeing this, Albrek did his best to protect him. Bruswick broke through to him, that Vincent wasn't himself and needed to be removed from the castle, but by the time he turned around, Azrael's Fang of Telcazalco was already mid-swing.
Albrek died. Like, died died. No coming back from whatever that blade did to him. This is when our fate as enemies was sealed, and in a way, we had failed. More pain was dealt to us and to them, and at the end of it all, Bruswick ended the combat with two well-placed arrows into Thorne and Vincent alike. Thorne ended up escaping with the cursed sword, and Naos took Albrek and Vincent away, vowing that he would try to explain on our behalf, but promising nothing in the way of results. We could only agree and let them leave.
We returned to the Wraith King, who was grateful of our accomplishment. It was a bitter victory, one that does not sit well with me even as I record these events. We gained different boons from the Wraith King to take back to Kapital. One small step in gaining an advantage over the Pale Master, though I worry we are entering the quiet before the storm. I do not know what the horizon holds for us as a guild, or all undead in Gaes, but we must persevere and hope that when this is all over, we do not answer to the Pale Master.

- T