Writing prompt: Your character attempts to fight the big bad evil guy.
Keatoph and Ophni gaze upon the Jarl of Pernigath’s stead as they dismount from their ride. It’s marble steps are littered with ash. It's front doors are gone. Pillars of distant smoke encompass it.
They pass up toward the entryway, anticipating the foe that waits for them. Keatoph’s blade refracts sunlight sharply.
“Ophni,” Keatoph addresses the elf, as they carefully and quietly ascend the marble steps.
“Yes?” She asks.
“I have never seen this orc pack cause so much damage. They are Kalinbind, yes. But this is different. Something is off.”
“What do you think’s happening?”
“I’m not sure. I saw something similar at Asgafal, under the hands of a necromancer. But I ended his reign.”
“You killed a necromancer?” she blurts out in hushed tones. She stops walking.
Ophni crouches on the steps to avoid being seen through the door. She grabs Keatoph’s arm, pulling him down with her. “Are you sure?”
“I saw his head depart his body,” Keatoph assures. His attention is torn between her and what lies ahead of them.
“Did you destroy his tomb?”
“He did not have one. He was not dead.”
“Every necromancer has a tomb,” she insists. He stares at her with alarm.
“Then no,” he admits. “I did not.”
“The sorcerers of the undead must create a tomb with the dead to interact with their corpses. Often, they will bury themselves completely and live through a proxy corpse. This necromancer of yours, was he decayed?”
“Then your necromancer is not dead.”
Keatoph does not answer right away. The expression on his face is one of horror and of processing.
“Maybe we should turn back,” he whispers after a moment.<