Fall of the Evening Star
Magical energy fills the air.
Circles of magic whirl around a large alchemical ring. Ornate symbols and markings fill the old basement room with a dull blue light. Old moldy crates and bottles lay scattered and forgotten with the passage of time. The spell reaches its climax as the light glows ever brighter. A small cloaked figure stands just outside of the ring, holding a large old tomb half the size he his. He chants a series of words from a language long lost.
A flash. An eruption.
Flash to two days prier.
A mother gnome with wild and unkempt hair the color of a raging fire is standing outside watching a gnome child play with her father. The child has the same hair as the mother while the father has a vibrant green color which is partially concealed by a rather large top hat. The child has a small music box which plays a melodic tune. The mother looks flustered and ill as she holds her stomach. The father rushes over to her.
Flash to two days later.
Smoke fades and energy dissipates. A small, lanky and pale undead creature is hunched in the middle of a slowly fading magic circle. Smoke creeps from its mangled maw as it looks to the small figure in the cloak. It lets out a throaty croak and raises a long disjointed arm. Its hands are obscurely shaped and its fingers long and sharp. Blood begins oozing from several cracks in the creatures skin.
The female gnome is laying on a bed, surrounded in pillows and blankets. She is in labor. The small child looks fascinated, the father holds the same expression with the added bit of concern. He makes sure she has everything she needs.
The cloaked gnome is hiding behind an old wooden door. Heavy beatings and scratching is coming from the other side of the thin barrier. He looks terrified, wildly looking around the small room. No escape. No way out. Another slam and a mangled claw breaks through the door. He ducks lower. Then a melodic tune makes itself known, the faint but familiar tune. His eyes widen. The claw retracts and the banging stops. He peeks through the whole in the door and sees his daughter standing on the other side of the room with a look of defiance, music box in hand. The creature staggers towards her.
The father gnome is holding a small baby with hair like his. He holds it close, the baby is not crying, but he is. The child is kneeling over the mother telling her to wake up, the baby is here, wake up.
She does not move.
The cloaked gnome throws open the door and beginnings running towards the child, shouting for her to get away. He tries to run past the creature but it takes a wild swing at him, raking at his eyes and knocking him with heavy force into the nearby wall. Through bloody eyes he watching as the creature raises its long gnarled claw into the air and brings it down upon the child. The only thing she says before it strikes her is, “Mother…”
Blood splatters the ground.
The father is holding a small baby boy, it looks petite and fragile. It is not breathing.
A melodic tune plays from the other room.
The music box hits the ground before the body does, it bounces and rolls towards the father. With a blood drenched claw the creatures head cricked in his direction, all that was left of the daughter was a torn and bloody corpse. He got up, grabbed the music box and ran, tears rolling down his face. Behind him he could hear the creaks and groans of the creature following behind him. He reached the main door, opened it with haste and slammed it shut behind him as he left. It was night time. The sky was clear and calm, the moon a simple crescent, partially lighting up the world.
Enter Zanthros Diethlem, the Gnome Illusionist Wizard. A chipper fellow who likes tall hats and smoking a long pipe. He dabbles in alchemy and enjoys pranking his friends with funny illusions.