The Order of the White Raven

Prologue - Keep on the Shadowfell

The Blood Lord sat on his throne of bones and blood-oozing
skulls, engulfed in darkness and the putrid stench of death and
misery. Cries of pain and anguish played in the background of
Orcus’ residence of Undeath. Nothing of this reached the dark lord.
His blood-hazed eyes were lost into the distance, his mind
stretching out to listen to the calls and prayers of his dark clergy
and followers. Like buzzing flies, their requests and calls for favors
left no impression on the Demon Price of Undeath – his schemes of
power were on a level incomprehensible for his mortal followers.
But suddenly his eye twitched, a prayer – no not a prayer – a
whispered word that brought back memories of lost causes and
unpaid depts. Orcus focused his divine attention towards the
source, spanning his godlike awareness cross planes and
dimensions.
“…Master of Undeath, Tear in the shroud of Death, listen to
the words of your humble servant, a maggot in your godlike corpse.
I have found out where the followers of Bahamut have hidden the
Rod of Ruin! The paladin of Bahamut I defiled and brought back
in your name knows of its hiding place, great Master.”
The Rod of Ruin – Found! The Blood Lord clenched his fist
around the Wand of Orcus, blood dripping between his fingers.
This opened up new possibilities, the chessboard had suddenly
shifted, and things were tilting in his favor again. As Lord of the
Undead, Orcus had the everlasting patience of the dead, a trait
seldom seen among his demonic cohorts and enemies. But Orcus
knew that if he waited long enough in the darkness, secrets held in
life would resurface in the afterlife. It was just a matter of time,
and that time was now. With the Rod of Ruin resurfacing he could
send his pawns to collect it and complete the task once started but
never finished – turning the living world into a realm of undeath
and eternal darkness. His divine mind immediately identified the
hundreds of actions needed for setting the plan in motion, but first
– he poured a fraction of his essence into the world of the living. His
aspect materialized in the crypt of his maggot, pulling darkness
and the chill of the grave with it. The priest screamed in terror as
his eyes started to bleed at the sight of his true Lord. There were still
questions that needed answers and a dept of a soul to be paid…

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