Draken was a bold warrior, and a natural leader. As he had traveled the continent, he had attracted a group of people who claimed they would follow him anywhere. A bear-man tracker who could shred people easily with his claws, an aventi wizard, and a cindersworn priest who claimed to be traveling only to teach the trio the ways of her god Khadesh. Unfortunately, Draken was an intolerant man as well, and found the necromantic practices of the avolakias to be disgusting. He was soon leading strikes against their necromancers and their creations.
Meanwhile another group of avolakias prepared a different ritual, wishing to make a contract with the fire smiths.
As Draken and his group crept up on the day's target, he saw that they had summoned a beast of flame in one of the ritual pits. Had they known he was coming? He signaled, and they laid in wait to see what would come of this.
- "We are the avolakia, children of the goddess Myxiniron," The summoner leader said to Diakhus, "We wish to enhance our undead warriors by giving them armor and weapons. Blades and scythes that we might graft upon them. Are your people able to forge such an order?"
Meanwhile, the avolakia necromancers under guidance of Myxiniron continued the ritual.
A corrupted soul, bound to Novirm, would be removed from that realm and fused to an amorphous mass of necrotic flesh. Once the malign spirit was inside, the flesh featureless flesh would reshape and take on the from of a grotesque humanoid creature. Many where made. Creatures too horrible to describe. Some with their organs exposed, lashing at anyone within reach. Others would gather souls and trap them inside themselves, with the soul appearing trapped within their ribcage. Yet another kind could carry several souls at once, keeping the souls impaled on several spikes on its body. All where linked to Novirm.
Without conscience or remorse, they stalked the land and hunting for the living, because for each victim they slew they would bind another soul directly into the dreadful realm. If slain, the malign spirit would just find its way back to Novirm. There it would rebuild its body and return to the world once more to continue its mission. To gather more souls to still Novirm's hunger
Diakhus looked impressed with these living dead.
- "Iron weapons for an army of corpse-warriors? Truly a deadly combination."
Diakhus seemed to be getting an idea.
- "For a task of this grandeur," he said, "I must summon a few of my brethren to assist. We will craft the scythes and armor you request, and I believe we can attach them to the skeletons. Out of every three warriors enhanced with our craft, one will be taken back to our home, to serve the salamanders. Do we have a deal?"
The avolakias agreed to the bargain
- "Very well, your proposal is acceptable."
Metal weaponry combined with undead flesh? It could not be allowed! Signaling his allies, Draken rushed forth to attack the avolakia summoner. The foolish adventurers couldn't even come near the summoners. They were overwhelmed by the upgraded undead servants and the power of the avolakias themselves. A few devourers made short work of them, sending their souls directly to Novirm, and the adventurers where never heard of again.