Introduction

"Wake me up...When this existence is all over...I am tired of living right here in-between Life and Death...I just wish to rest for now".

The voice of the Lich Larloch passed into the mind of every sentient undead in the massive underground mausoleum that lay deep below the nameless mountains, in a land long forgotten to time.

The Gods had turned what was once a thriving and vibrant world into an empty tomb, the only inhabitants left were the undead that lived their unlife in the depths of the world, deep under the ground.

All life had been purged by the anger of the Gods, fickle beings that moved on to the next world and destroy that one through their battles too.

It had been many Eons since Larloch was thwarted by Elminster, and things had changed. The Gods had changed, the very planes around him had changed. The Weave was left unguarded and Larloch had taken to maintaining it's form. Despite his massive plane-altering power, he lived by the thought that there always will be a stronger being than himself.

It was why he prepared so much, to such an extent that he was insane in more ways than just his caution, but now, now there was only the passage of time and the millions of undead that he controlled. Within the depths of the world, Larloch lay in his decorative coffin with his Phylactery in his hands, the dozen Ioun stones gently swirling around his skeletal body.

For the first time in eons, Larloch dreamed, no, it wasn't so much a dream as a dream assisted divination. He dreamed of a strange planet on a distant plane beyond the very multiverse that he resided in, and for hundreds of thousands of years he slept, and in his sleep, the world was destroyed by the local star exploding due to the clashing of two Gods that just happened to be fighting in the area.

All of his work, gone in that moment, yet he did not die, he could not die by the mere destruction of a star, no, while sleeping, his wish spell engrained into his phylactery activated, and since he had dreamed of this faraway realm, it brought him beyond the reality he had remained in and to that distant world.

Deep beneath the Earth he slumbered, and as the world above went through wars, collapse, and destruction, yet still Larloch did not awaken. Humanity rose from the ashes of World War Three, and began rebuilding, and still the Great Lich slept silent in the bowels of the Earth unmoving and uncaring.

Then, in the middle of the spring of 2062, Larloch awoke from his slumber, and the world trembled in anticipation.

Somewhere in Serbia, 2062

"Keep your eyes peeled, and make sure to not get caught off guard. The report said that something shady was going on in this forest, and we need to investigate whatever is going on for our client" A man in light body armor holding a AK-74M said as he motioned to the five men behind him, all wearing dark outfits and facemasks.

As they walked through the closely positioned trees that would not allow them to bring a vehicle with them, the man in the back who was holding an electronic map that led them to the compound that they were looking for spoke up.

"Don't you think it's getting a bit cold? It's not even seven yet" The man grumbled, but was reprimanded by the man at the front.

"Quite complaining Lev, we're almost there" The man reprimanded him before stopping dead in his tracks and aiming his rifle at a tree to his right.

"We got hostiles, take cover NOW" the front man told his companions who all took cover behind trees, hyper aware of their surroundings.

However.

One of the men screamed and slid to the floor, his scream becoming a weak moan as his body shriveled like a prune. What seemed to be a dark shadowy figure hunched over him, holding him in a vicious grip.

"Sergei, Shit!" The man two trees away from him cursed as two more dark shadowy figures glided towards him.

"Fucking Ghosts! We're fighting fucking GHOSTS!" The man shouted before firing at the specters, the bullets passing harmlessly through them. Stumbling in an attempt to run away, the man tripped over a root and fell on his back.

The black faceless ghosts glided towards the man and reached out towards him, their spindly black fingers reaching towards him.

He fired fruitlessly at them as he attempted to get up and run away, but their grasps took his face and tore at his body in a vicious frenzy.

His screams were silenced moments later and seconds after, he died.

The screams of the remaining men rose and fell as they met their ends, with their very life force violently pulled from their bodies.

Five hours later, rising from the corpses of the unlucky men were dark shadowy imitations of the men, incorporeal wraiths of dead men. They grouped together and floated further into the forest into a small empty compound which consisted of several buildings surrounded by barbed wire fences. The compound was empty except for dozens of the same types of shadowy figures meandering about in the compound except for one being that hovered above the buildings, it's ghastly dress blowing in the wind that seemed to generate from within itself, was a ghostly woman that watched over the compound and looked off into the distance, it's eyes fixated on some faraway destination.

It was a Banshee.