Sara, alongside Nip and Garrick, ventured into the house’s basement, its ladder down rickety and weak. The room was made up like a shrine, a large statue of an angel wrapped in its wings stood in front of a podium littered with scrolls and wax laden candlesticks. Weak embers burnt in the braziers to its left and right, betraying recent activity in its midst.
“So, this necromancer was definitely here. Who wants to bet he’s hiding behind or under that there statue?” asked Garrick.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” retorted Nip. “‘Strike fear into the enemy’, was it? Announce your presence, fight, ask questions later.”
“You’re right, I can’t help myself,” Garrick patted the blade of his axe, a grin painted on his face.
Sara approached the podium, taking a look at the paraphernalia cluttering its surface. Of particular interest was a scroll, wound up on its centre. She unwrapped its string, and unfurled it, using a small paper weight on the podium to keep it open.
Sara read through its contents, “Fallen angle? Not the brightest is our necromancer.”
“Really? Angle? Let me see,” Nip approached, sliding a small wooden box to use as a stool. Standing on its shaky surface, Nip perused the scroll with Sara’s blessing. “Amazing…”
“Look here,” Sara pointed further down the scroll, “‘and with its blessing, the angle Veridium placed the great chalice of life and death in the hands of the dwarfs of Marn, who hid it deep within their mines, lest it fall into the hands of the unworthy and unscrupulous’.”
“Marn? The clan that used to own Mount Triumph?” asked Nip.
“I think one and the same. Interesting…” Sara looked to the angel, pondering over the scroll’s contents.
Today's prompt: fallen angle
This week's worldbuilding prompt: exploration
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