The Lost Lands
Vecna sat atop the sand dune. The sand storm had been magically conjured, only blinding those who were caught in its path. Behind the wall of chaos, the early morning sun shone clear and bright, like a perfect summer’s day.
He could see the section of the wall that hall been destroyed with the magical undead zombies. He cackled to himself as he saw the undead march through the newly formed holes in the large wall. He could see Lord Tsaranth riding back and forth on his skeletal horse. After the initial attack at the wall, Tsaranth charged forward into the gaping hole.
Vecna gestured subtly toward the wall. He whispered a few incantations, cursing the defenders and their weapons. He grinned to himself.
Vecna saw the human archer fall first. Morgan Greyhold was his name. Quite fitting he should go down first, Vecna thought to himself. That’s what Vashanka gets for trying to steal one of mine.
“I hope Morgan has an enjoyable family reunion with dearly departed Merick.”
He saw Morgana the druidess go down next, a mortal wound to her chest. Quite sad he thought as he smiled. Now she had promise.
He saw the dwarf Flynt swing wildly and miss again. His incantations were having the desired effect. Vecna cackled to himself. The dwarf finally succumbed under a wall of undead.
The bear man Slustar stood alone. Tsaranth circled around him along with skeletons and zombies at the bear man’s flanks. He swung madly in desperation as a blade from a skeleton found its mark. Letting out a dying gasp he fell to his knees and then was swallowed up.
Vecna stood up and smiled as he brushed sand off his robes.
“It is done. Vashanka would do well to mind his own business from this point on. His power has been broken for ages. He’d best not try to steal mine.”