Post by Spwack on Jun 10, 2012 5:28:48 GMT -5
Way back, in the days of yore, the men were muscled, the women were wise, and the quests were courageous. Most well traveled places had been stripped of monsters, but the dark demons still haunted the wild regions of Mirugan. To supply all of the bravery, the merchant class thrived, and so became extremely wealthy, and sold their businesses to their sons and apprentices. One such Lord (as they became known, for they did not make, and did not fight) was Mr. Oswold Herring. He had made a killing cutting down large swathes of forests, then stripping the ground bare of any useful materials the could be found quickly. This practice was very popular, until the king banned it on some premise or other about lack of trees. But who needed trees when you had money. And so, Mr. Herring wiled away the rest of his life, counting and recounting all the money he stores in his manor, Herring Heights. But he realised something important: The money was useless to him if he died. Yes it would be inherited, but what was the good in that? Sitting in his dusty, grand house, he pondered this for awhile. "Indeed, the only thing to do is to live forever. Then, business will take care of itself." With that, he chartered his servant-mage for a teleport back to Rull. The University should of something on immortality.
As such, he spent a few weeks researching the topic. But he constantly met dead ends. The Skylords were meant to be immortal, but they were extinct, so what was the point in that? And the vampires? All together too much blood. Nothing for a respectable fellow like himself. So he pondered further.
The only method he could come up with was to be dead but... not dead. It suited him. Necromancy was the way to go, it seemed. So he bribed the librarians, and "borrowed" some of the books. The ones that were locked down with chains of fire and ice. The ones that snarled and snapped. And the ones that seemed to stare at you, and gently suck at your soul. He took the books back home, but had to hire a porter and walk, as his servant-mage had a small stroke when he saw the books.
Back in Herring Heights, Oswold put on his reading glasses and scanned the books in front of him. The Book of the Dead, The Phantom Lights, Necromancy for Fun and Profit. He had all the main ones, but had picked up several on immortality, particularly about objects that were extremely rare. And therefore extremely costly. "So, now I have a price on my immortality." With that in mind, he began to read.
No one ever saw Mr. Herring again.
Perhaps one of his spells killed him.
Perhaps the spiders and zombies, that to this day infest his grand manor killed him.
Perhaps he managed it. Perhaps he still lives in Herring Heights, the undying tycoon of a long gone business.
Whatever the case, some of his treasure still resides in Herring Heights.
Perhaps even the books.
As such, he spent a few weeks researching the topic. But he constantly met dead ends. The Skylords were meant to be immortal, but they were extinct, so what was the point in that? And the vampires? All together too much blood. Nothing for a respectable fellow like himself. So he pondered further.
The only method he could come up with was to be dead but... not dead. It suited him. Necromancy was the way to go, it seemed. So he bribed the librarians, and "borrowed" some of the books. The ones that were locked down with chains of fire and ice. The ones that snarled and snapped. And the ones that seemed to stare at you, and gently suck at your soul. He took the books back home, but had to hire a porter and walk, as his servant-mage had a small stroke when he saw the books.
Back in Herring Heights, Oswold put on his reading glasses and scanned the books in front of him. The Book of the Dead, The Phantom Lights, Necromancy for Fun and Profit. He had all the main ones, but had picked up several on immortality, particularly about objects that were extremely rare. And therefore extremely costly. "So, now I have a price on my immortality." With that in mind, he began to read.
No one ever saw Mr. Herring again.
Perhaps one of his spells killed him.
Perhaps the spiders and zombies, that to this day infest his grand manor killed him.
Perhaps he managed it. Perhaps he still lives in Herring Heights, the undying tycoon of a long gone business.
Whatever the case, some of his treasure still resides in Herring Heights.
Perhaps even the books.
