Gold Fire 2

Gold Fire 2 is an encounter in Kingdom Aflame.
==Enemies==
* Teressa's Zombie (Kingdom Aflame) (200 Gold, 200 XP, 200 Energy, 3 HP)
* Teressa the Soul-Weaver (Kingdom Aflame) (300 Gold, 300 XP, 300 Energy, 1 HP)
==Transcript==
===Introduction===
Over two hundred years ago...
The night was absolute. Moon and stars had fled, ceding creation to the dark. Blackness surrounded Teressa, so deep and rich it was almost tangible. An ebon ocean. She strolled through the soothing waters, eyes penetrating their depths. Fields of crops and cattle stretched away on either side -- buried beneath the gloom. Squat peasant dwellings sat beyond them.
Had the hero really come from such lowly places?
A farm dog barked at Teressa. She turned towards it. Her eyes flashed under her hood, becoming two glowing, searing purple orbs. It whimpered and dashed away. The necromancer smiled.
The grave called to her when she drew close, as all tombs and sepulchers did. Places of death had souls of their own. Each one was different, and whispered its possibilities to those who wove the magic of necromancy.
She stopped before it. Disturbed earth covered the resting place, not yet settled and reclaimed by nature's green blanket. There was no tombstone. No symbols of the countless honors the Dragon-Rider had amassed over a long and storied life. She'd heard there was to be a statue, a magnificent monument. But for now it stood unfinished in the sculptor's workshop. And one of the greatest heroes West Kruna had ever known lay in an unmarked grave.
But not for long...
Teressa's eyes glowed once more, stronger this time. Deeper. Twin purple suns. Her sorcerous tendrils reached out, penetrating the soil without leaving the slightest mark, delving into... No. Something was wrong. It was... No! No! No! The necromancer screamed.
"Be careful," a woman's voice said. "You'll wake the farmers."
Vibrant redness appeared at the periphery of the necromancer's dark-seeing vision. But Teressa didn't turn to it. She could only stare down at the dirt, anger swelling in her breast.
"There's... There's no body! They destroyed it!"
"By %his% own request. %He% asked to be cremated, because %he% knew people might come for %his% flesh and bones. Scavengers. Evil mages. Necromancers... You'll have to find your latest minion elsewhere."
"No! I wouldn't have... I was going to bring %him% back. Not as a thrall! As..."
"As a hero returned from the dead?"
"The kingdom still needs %him%!"
"I know. That's why I offered %him% the crimson kiss. But %he% refused. Not everyone wants to live forever, Teressa."
The redness vanished. Teressa the Soul-Weaver stood there alone, gazing at the empty earth.
***
The present day...
The cemetery called to her, like a merchant shouting in the marketplace, touting his wares to any passersby who had coin to spend. It was an old place. Old and forgotten -- unused for many generations. Exactly what she'd been searching for. With war raging in West Kruna, most of the kingdom's graveyards were watched and warded. Secured and safeguarded by those who had no desire to see their loved ones recruited into zombie or skeleton legions.
How very foolish they were. As far as Teressa was concerned, those who shied away from so valuable a resource deserved to be defeated. Her undead minions had proven useful thus far. She'd relished the looks of horror on soldiers' faces when their former comrades rose up and shambled towards them. But those same enemies had immolated, decapitated, or dismembered plenty of her thralls, and she needed to replenish her ranks.
The necromancer stopped in the middle of the cemetery, closed her eyes, and drank in its scents. Yes, there were many warriors waiting beneath the earth. Waiting for her command.
Her eyes opened. They blazed in the moonlight.
***
"Since when do kings and generals go on night attacks?" Symric whispered.
"Since when do rank and file soldiers question kings and generals?" Ranlatta said.
The goblin grinned.
She had to admit that he had a point, of course. Their group was an eclectic one. Any sentence beginning, "A king, a general, a Purple Tiger, a cleric, and a goblin..." should by all laws and customs end with "...walked into a pub" and lead on to a dire joke, perhaps revolving around a lascivious pun. Yet this was the band that crept forward into the night -- while their comrades waited behind, protecting their backs without alerting their quarry.
"This way," Temurn said.
They followed him through the ruins, around the heaps of broken stone. The elderly priest of Karuss had claimed he could sense a necromancer's aura of death and help them track down their elusive quarry. Ranlatta was dubious, but any good soldier knew better than to offend her healers.
"Ah!" he said. "We're close!"
He was grinning like a boy at play. His customary duties involved remaining at the rear of the army, well protected, and helping the injured. She supposed this was a new experience for him, an adventure the likes of which he hadn't enjoyed for decades if ever.
The rest of them drew their weapons. Temurn clutched his amulet, fingers closing over the white dove.
"Behind that wall?" Crenus whispered.
"Yes!"
The king and the Purple Tiger exchanged looks.
"What's wrong?" Ranlatta asked.
"I think that's a graveyard."
"Oh, gods..."
They ran towards the wall, circling it till they came to its entrance. And there she was -- the robed elf woman, standing in the middle of the cemetery, arms outstretched, surrounded by rows and rows of graves.
"We should get the others," the Purple Tiger said.
"No!" Symric said. "Kill her quick, before she-"
"Bride of death, I command you to cease in the name of Lord Karuss!" Temurn said. He strode towards her, amulet outstretched.
Ranlatta groaned. 
Dirt trembled like swarms of crawling insects, and clawing hands burst from the ground.
===Conclusion===
"Back! Back, I say!" Temurn waved his symbol in each direction. "Return to the grave and surrender your souls!"
"Piss off!" a zombie's head said.
His upper body followed, erupting from the earth. Cold, grey hands snatched at the priest's robes. Ranlatta dashed over and stomped on the zombie's skull.
"Karuss smites you by our hands!" the priest said. "And... er... boots!"
Teressa stared at them with glowing purple eyes. The mask over the necromancer's mouth twitched as she murmured her incantations. Zombies shambled in front of her, screening their mistress. Crenus split one's skull with a downward cleave. The Purple Tiger punctured another's face with a thrust from a steel claw. But more were already coming to take their place, digging themselves from the ground, clambering out of their graves. Staggering towards living flesh. The two warriors were hard-pressed, chopping and thrusting to keep their unliving enemies at bay.
Rotting fingers seized Ranlatta's ankle, yanking her off-balance. Symric leapt towards her and slashed with his curved blade. The hand parted from its forearm; the general kicked it away. A second stroke lopped off the zombie's head.
"No good," the goblin said. "We have to stop her!"
"I call upon the Lord of Light!" Temurn said.
The priest's amulet was pulsing now, emitting bursts of golden illumination, defying the moonlight. He waved it around, spinning in each direction. Zombies clasped their faces and staggered away from him.
"Forgive me, Karuss," Symric said, "for I'm about to sin..."
The goblin ran at the priest. His left hand grabbed Temurn's robes, drawing a yelp of surprise. He charged forward -- driving the cleric before him like a living shield. The human's old, thin legs pumped fast to keep him upright, propelled by the goblin's strength and desperate speed. And the golden glow went with him. The priest brandished his amulet, sweeping it from side to side, flailing like a madman.
Zombies scattered, thrown back by holy power and sinful pragmatism. Teressa stopped chanting long enough to cry out. She managed a single syllable before Symric's sword pierced her chest.
Necromancer and zombies fell together, a collection of broken marionettes.
Temurn gasped and panted.
"Thank... Thank you, Lord Karuss," he said, "for giving this pious child the knowledge to vanquish the dead!"
Symric covered his mouth and turned a laugh into a cough.
Category:Kingdom Aflame