"If you are reading this, then I am likely dead or worse. My name is Servalack Doswend, and I am sorry to say that I am the cause of all this."
It was the Autumn of 1543. My colleges and I had the good fortune of hearing that a recent earthquake had opened a previously undiscovered man made cavern beneath the Wroclaw temple. I was Intrigued, as the purpose behind the temples construction and who had been behind it's building process had been a mystery to scholars since it's discovery. First chance I received I gathered an expedition force and set out to explore the the unearth complex.
If I had known what we would have found, and unintentionally unleashed, I would have never have gone, never allowed anyone to descend into that accursed tomb.
After setting up base camp in a local settlement we entered the caverns below the ruins. Within a few hours of walking we came across a shocking sight. Bones, entire skeletons, strewn about the floor. Many were broken, their limbs detached, individual bones cracked, skulls smashed in or in many cases removed from the bodies all together. Most perplexing of all was that many of the bodies wore armor, and one could clearly see weapons littering the ground or clutched in bony hands. This was no burial ground, and we quickly concluded that the complex had been the site of a battle field.
Upon further study of the remains we found that the armor and their insignias matched that of the Rovalda empire. An oddity, as the ruins didn't match their architecture nor did we know of any major conflicts within the region as their borders were farther north. I would go into more detail of our study on the area, but I am currently running out of time. After making several other observations and exploring other rooms of the complex we eventually found the main chamber. And in that chamber we found it.
It, was an orb, a glowing red crystalline orb, pulsing dully in the darkness. It was clenched firmly in the fleshless fingers of a body, it's skull pierced by a gladius sword, dressed in what would have once been a regal attire, had time not worn on it. Some of the guards of our expedition muttered about the orb being cursed. I passed their talk off as superstition from the uneducated. I might have been right that they were merely paranoid. But still I should have listened.
When I pulled the orb free, I'm not sure what happened. A sharp burning sensation went through my arm an images flashed in my mind that I could not make sense of. From what my companions told me later told me, a dark red light filled the room and everyone was knocked from their feet. I had passed out during this and would not awake till my companions woke me moments later. While I lacked consciousness something happened to Overick, one of the younger scholars joining us. He had caught an Illness sometime during the trip but insisted that he follow us below. When the light that knocked me out of my senses Overick had apparently gone mad and attacked the others. He bit and scratched at them, tearing some skin and flesh off a few others. When they failed to restrain him the expedition guards resorted too caving his head in with a mace.
After the excitement ended my companions dragged me from the room, woke me, and we decided to leave the ruins for the time being. However on the way back out things got worse. Boris and Volkin, who both had been bitten in Overick's fit of madness, began showing signs of a strange affliction. Their veins became more pronounced, turning black. We tried to rush them both too the exit as the apparent infection spread quickly through their bodies, but we weren't fast enough. Before we could get them outside they fell into the same fit of insanity that over came Overick.
I can't remember what happened next, I think our escorts killed them, I just recall running out of that accursed place as quickly as I could. When what was left of our group exited the catacombs we expected to find some respite back under the sun. Instead we found the village we placed out base camp in had descended into a battle ground. Whatever caused the initial insanity in Overick had apparently effected others in the village as well.
It has now been several days since then. I am not sure how far this "Disease" has spread. In hindsight I should have guessed that cursed orb back at the ruins was the source sooner, but at the time panic made it hard to think straight. My mind, I feel, has been growing increasingly cloudy since then. I've noticed the darkening of my own blood vessels. Whatever this illness it is it seems to have afflicted me as well, though why it has taken this long for me to start to feel the change I do not know. In the mourning I plan to make another journey back to the ruins, though I doubt I will be able to reverse this. If I fail, or more likely change before I reach
my destination, then I implore you, whoever it is that manages to find this journal, find the orb. Find it and destroy it somehow.
I fear for us all if you don't.
These were the final words written in the journal found in the remains of a village below the ancient ruins of Wroclaw.
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In the year 1543 the Kingdom Of Nallan had been at the height of it's power. After repelling invasions from the southern Garlac republic, Nallan had entered a twenty year period of prosperity. Having achieved the peak of it's military prowess after the southern war and having finally broken it's land locked status Nallan had established itself as a major trading force, entering an economic golden age under the rule of king Heverac the 7th. It was in the autumn of that year that the king had officially planned to step down, appointing his oldest son Erdenth the new high king of Nallan.
However, on the day of the princes coronation a ripple of power swept through the kingdom, unleashing an ancient curse long forgotten in the passing of time. Anyone who had been sick or ill on the day the curse had been unleash changed. They became mindless, flesh hungry beast whose very bite can cause others to join their ranks within hours after being bitten. The country is thrown into chaos as the plague sweeps across the land. The king, along with several of his heirs, killed in the initial outbreak, leaving his youngest daughter the only surviving member of the royal family and pressed into service as the new high queen. A position she neither wanted, nor was ready for.
In the turning of this new dark age, stories are written. Not of chivalrous knights and epic battles, but of survival and fear. Bonds and abilities are tested and death becomes constant. As Autumn sets in the living will fall like leaves to stain the ground red. What few survive the red autumn must band together, scavenge and seek refuge. For the winter is coming, and the dead are restless.
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This is the set up for a new roleplay I'm planning. I wanted to try something that wasn't two often done, in taking a zombie apocalypse story and placing in a medieval setting. This will be the first part of a three part series, this part dealing with autumn and the fall of society. The story itself is very character driven, their are a few roles that need to be filled but other survivors will eventually be joined into the main plot. The main goal is to survive, banding together to escape the dead and eventually fortify against the hordes. Standard sounding goal for most zombie roleplays that may seem, but in this case, especially in the later parts, certain elements will lead to the reveal of several mysteries behind the horde, the effect the out break has on a political level, and the increased dependance on the capable few to keep the population alive through the dark times if they want to have any chance at recovery.
The particular world I'm building has slight magical influences, but they aren't very strong (barring the curse that is the driving force behind the story). Magic may exist, but its very weak and it practitioners are few. There are no giant fire balls created by uttering a few words, or making walls appear by waving your magic stick around. Instead magic is something used by fortunetellers and old hermits for divination, warding and some types of medical remedies that need both preparation before hand and lots of materials to preform. People in the land of Nallan have learned to rely more on tools and there own craftsmanship then put their faith in magic tricks.
I plan to add more to this description later, but for now I leave it as is to see if there is any interest. If anyone has any suggestions for this I would love to hear them.
