Malakin Flann

UP: Atlantic

    It had been a slow day, so I decided to drown my sorrows in ale. All was tranquil as I approached The Cat's Lair tavern, and as I entered, hearty laughs and tall tales filled the air. I approached the barmaid and asked for some Ale. As in emptied my purse in exchange for a tankard, a young ranger burst into the tavern, out of breath.

"A vile criminal, a powerful mage, no less, is on the loose!" he stammered. As soon as he finished, every man and woman in the tavern rushed out. My curiosity got the best of me, so I stood up and followed them.

As I approached the northern part of Britain, large crowds of adventurers were listening to an old man dressed in old-fashioned armor. After pushing myself to the front of the crowd, I was able to ask him a couple of questions. It seems that a very powerful mage named Lord Kaiston had been held at the Healers' of Skara Brae until recently, where the assembled healers had been hard at work treating a strange lunacy that had overcome him.

The old man began to speculate about Lord Kaiston's whereabouts; he had already dispatched scouts south of Skara Brae's farm lands. Of the three scouts sent, only one had returned - and he died promptly after he delivered his report.

Gates were summoned, and we went after the mad mage. What we saw soon after cannot be retold in complete accuracy. The scene was chaotic, to say the least. All around us, Kaiston's followers came out of the bushes - brigands hidden behind trees, and wizards appearing out of nothingness. I heard someone behind me mutter "Kal Vas Flam", and as I turned to look, my whole body caught on fire, and I fell into darkness.

I woke again some time later; a noble healer treating my wounds. The battle had ended, and Lord Kaiston had been slaughtered. We suffered many casualties, but the wounded were being treated and the threat was over. The old man was summoned via moongate to survey the situation.