Sinegard Academy for the Wayward

[The_Weeping_Angel]

“No,” M’Kael replied, walking from shadow to shadow like a glimmer in the light. “I can’t feel her. Anywhere. Not in the shadows, not in my head.”

“I’m still unable to perceive the demon anywhere within my range of perception.” Magdalena said slamming the butt of her spear against the stones.

“Where ever she is warded, or brightly lit, or both.” M’Kael added.

“Gotta be brighter than you are.” Magdalena quipped under her breath ass she paced back and forth. “Angus how good is your sense of smell? Can you track by scent? How about you Callo?”​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Angus shook his head. “My nose isn’t good enough for this. Sorry.”

Gem’s smile was immediate and knowing. “Then we’ll use a little magic.”

She tapped her staff against the stone floor. Shadows rippled outward, gathering and coalescing into the shape of a massive, spectral bloodhound. Its form flickered like smoke caught in moonlight, eyes glowing with patient, loyal intelligence.

“Great trackers,” Gem said, giving the ghostly creature an approving nod. “If you have anything that smells like Ravyn, give it to him. He’ll find her.”

She turned to the hound and pointed at the charred acolyte on the floor. “But first—track where this one came from.”

The spectral dog lowered its head, inhaled the burnt scent, then padded silently out the door. Its paws made no sound as it descended the stairs toward the front entrance, Gem and the others following close behind.

At the threshold, Gem lifted a hand. “Hold.”

The hound froze.

Gem knelt beside the planters flanking the entrance. She whispered a spell, and a soft green shimmer passed through the leaves. The vines straightened, the flowers turned toward her, and the shrubs rustled with sudden awareness.

“Plants,” Gem said gently, “tell me—who carried the dead acolyte up these steps?”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

The plants shook as the scent of the flowers filled the air and the plants rustled, the sound forming words. “The Dead walk.”

M’Kael looked annoyed at the response “My wasn’t that so ever helpful.”

Unsurprisingly Magdalena smacked him on the back of the head. “Be helpful or shut up.”

“How long does the spell last? Can you ask if they know where Ravyn is? Or where the dead guy came from? Did he walk or did other dead carry him?” Magdalena asked Gem.

***

“Prepare her,” The figure said. “Quickly.”

The Dark Priestess, who was the reincarnated Engineer, directed the remaining acolytes to prepare the ritual. Few things frightened one such as her, Archdukes of the infernal realm, the Inquisition, and … well.. Him. He used magic and powers she’d never seen or experienced before, even in her previous life.

Looking down at the naked girl and her rune covered skin the Dark Priestess marveled at the level of power that had gone into binding the demon inside her. But once the ritual was done, the demon would be out, The Dark One would take it’s powers, and the girl would be dead. But that was the problem with spells of this level. A price must be paid. And she was it.

Soon Ravyn would be another corpse in the pile of bodies that had been spent in getting her.

Once this was done… she was going after those… mortals. One by one she was going to peel their skin from their bodies and turn them into acolytes.​

 

[milkmaiden38]

“So they animated the body,” she said, already shifting into lecture‑mode. “Which means our dear miss‑pinhead made a very stupid mistake. Animated corpses witness things while animated. M’Kael, that’s what I call a useful clue.”

"Angus, can you get the dead acolyte. I want to question him" Gem asked. Angus took off on a run.

She turned to Magdelena with a wry smile.“The plant‑speech spell lasts eight hours, by the way. So the shrubbery may greet students at dawn. But it’s a magic school—talking foliage barely cracks the top ten weird things before breakfast.”

Gem faced the plants, staff in hand.“Have you seen Ravyn? Thin girl, black hair, wears black, tattoos everywhere. Did the dead acolyte walk up these steps alone, or was he carried? And if others were with him, where did they go after leaving the building?”

As she listern to the plant's answers, heavy footsteps announced Angus’s return. He held the priest’s head by its burnt hair. Gem froze. “Angus.”

He winced. “I pulled too hard. His head… kind of popped off.”

“Kind of popped off?” Angela echoed.

“There was some tearing involved,” he admitted.

Gem sighed, resigned. “It’s fine. I can still question it.”

She set the head down, touched two fingers to its brow, and whispered the spell. The corpse’s eyes fluttered open with a faint, unnatural awareness.

“We get five yes‑or‑no questions,” she reminded the group. “Use them wisely.”

She leaned in, voice steady.“When you were first animated… were you in the main courtyard?”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

The plants quivered and shook before replying “We have not seen her. We do not know what an acolyte is. Two walked past us into the stone place, none walked out.”

After a few minutes Angus exited the building with the head and after she cast her spell and asked her question the head looked at Gem before answering, “NO.”

M’Kael wisely kept his mouth shut just in case the damned thing took anything he said as a question.

Magdalena scowled, tampering with necromancy was a vile practice used by dark practitioners, healing was one thing. Awakening the dead was another. Especially awakening the head of a damned Priest of Darkness.​

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

As Gem asked her questions, slowly thinking them through before asking them She finally asked the Acolytes Head, “Where were you resurrected?”

The answer however was not something she expected. “The Hall of the Midnight Son.”

“After a long pause she asked the Head, “Was Ravyn there?”

“Yes.”

***

Meanwhile Angus was chatting with the Plants, “So..um.. what did the two people look like that went past you?”

“The first one wore long grey robes with inscriptions on the hem. Bipedal with two arms and a singular head.” Obviously the Acolyte that Gem was talking to.

“Ok, so what does the second one look like?”

“More flesh than a skeleton, less than a zombie. Doesn’t smell of rot. Musty, very old. It bore marks on it’s body and face. It smelled of darkness, hate, and pain.”

“Great,” M’Kael grumped. “That’s vague enough to be anyone we’ve pissed off in the last couple months.”

“I don’t piss off people.” Magdalena replied leaning on her staff.

“You can piss on me…” M’Kael replied with a nasty grin.

Scowling Magdalena looked at him like she wanted to vomit.​

 

[milkmaiden38]

“Doesn’t smell of rot,” Gem repeated “Musty, Ancient, and marks on its body and face. Reeks of darkness, hate, and pain… I’m calling it—a lich.”

“I thought Gem fried that guy with the radiant beam,” Angus protested.

“Well, the plant said you didn’t,” Angela countered.

“I don’t think that plant’s opinion is rooted in fact,” Angus said, far too pleased with himself.

Angela snorted. “I see what you did there. Careful though—keep it up and it might an am-bush.”

“Both of you, focus,” Gem snapped. “Has anyone heard of a place called The Hall of the Midnight Son?”

Angela almost laughed. “That’s a campfire story. A fake place adults use to scare kids.”

“No,” Angus said slowly, brow furrowing. “I’ve seen that name before. In an old text. It’s supposed to be a lost, legendary site.”

Gem turned to Magdelena. “Do you know anything about it? Because I’m starting to think that’s where Ravyn is.”

Gem started to cast another spell.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

“If it was a true lich, and not just a high level animation, then as long as the phylactery survives, so does the Lich.” Magdalena replied, taking a step away from M’Kael.

When Gem asked anyone if they’d heard of the Hall of the Midnight Son,” the skull replied “Yes.”

Grunting in disappointment M’Kael rolled his eyes. “It’s a boogeyman place. Like Vecna, Baba Yaga, Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Krampus, and Dracula. It’s not real. My parents would threaten to send me there if I didn’t behave. I never got sent cause it’s not real.”

And when she looked at Magdalena and asked her question about Ravyn the skull replied, “Yes,” and then dissolved into dust and ash.

“Rumors and whispers amongst the Inquisition are all I’ve heard. It might be a demiplane of Hell. Or the Planes of Dread. It’s darkness and pain. Torture and suffering.” Magdalena replied looking at the remains of the head.

“What are you casting now?”​

 

[milkmaiden38]

“Legend Lore,” Gem announced as the spell began to coil around her. “Takes ten minutes, so I had to start immediately. The spell works on a name or a description of a famous person, place, or object. Then—” she tapped her staff once, letting the magic hum through the air, “—I get a neat little summary of the significant lore tied to that thing.”

She kept her eyes on the forming sigils, voice steady and instructional.“The lore might be important details, amusing revelations, or even secrets no one’s ever known. The more I already understand about the subject, the clearer and more precise the vision becomes. It’s always accurate, but sometimes it comes wrapped in metaphors or poetry.”

A faint, mournful womp-womp drifted through the air as she added, “If the thing isn’t actually famous, I hear sad trombone music and the spell fails. Yes, really.”

She flicked her fingers toward the building.“Now—send M'Kael, Angus, and Angela to reload their weapons and kill the lich, if he’s lurking nearby. I suggest you stay here to guard me.”

“Reload and kill Lich! Got it!” Angus beamed, already excited for the violence.

“Maybe I could also get some flowers and chocolates!” Angela chimed in brightly. Then she shot M’Kael a wicked grin. “Although you might need to unload before you reload.”

“Just go,” Gem muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose as the spell’s glow intensified.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Vision blurred as the spell took hold, and she saw glimpses through mist and fog, creatures known and unknown fading in and out of view. The low mournful haunting echo of moans and screams. The light was dark and red like fresh blood. But even that barely stretched a few feet beyond there light sources.

The clink of chains and the shuffle of feet on dirt and stone echoed endlessly, pierced on occasion by unidentifiable screams.

But under and behind all that was the chanting. evil, vile, and corrupt the language was an affront to her senses, her eyes and ears bleeding as her skin crawled and itched.​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Gem released the spell, and the vision snapped away like a candle being pinched out. Blood trickled from her eyes and ears; she wiped it off with the back of her hand, jaw tight, saying nothing. The worry in her expression did all the talking until the others returned.

A few minutes later, Angus, M’Kael, and Angela tromped back in from their hunt for the lich.

“No sign of the creepy old fart,” Angus reported, annoyed and a little winded.

“But we are reloaded,” Angela added proudly. She jingled a few extra ammo pouches for emphasis. M’Kael hefted a new gun like he’d just won a carnival prize.

Gem exhaled slowly. “Right. Well… here’s the good news. I saw the Hall of the Midnight Son. I can teleport us there.” She hesitated. “The bad news is—”

“Why is there always bad news,” Angela groaned.

“Because that’s how magic works,” Gem shot back, only half joking. “Since I only glimpsed the Hall once through Legend Lore—and most of it was fog—there’s about a forty percent chance of a mishap when I cast the teleport spell. Even if it succeeds, we might land miles away from the Hall.”

She looked at each of them in turn, gauging resolve.

“So,” she asked, “shall we try?”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

“How do we know the Legend Lore spell worked? Maybe you saw someplace else?” M’Kael asked. “It’s how magic works…”

“I’m going to slap you in the head if you don’t shut up.” Magdalena said. “We don’t need you cursing this anymore than it already is.”

“My vote is we gather more fucking information before we turn ourselves inside out.” M’Kael argued.

“There is a sense of logic to his statement. But there is also the time we have left. The longer we take the less chance we have of saving her.” Magdalena argued. “Unless you think whomever has her is planning a party in her favor?”​

 

[milkmaiden38]

“Okay… let me see if I can tilt the odds,” Angela said, unclipping the Cup of Shadows from her belt.

She poured a splash of water into the goblet.“Shadow Libation,” she explained as the liquid darkened, thinning into swirling ink. “When I fill the cup, it turns the water into a shadow‑concoction. Then the spirits talk.”

The surface rippled. Angela leaned in and spoke softly to the shifting blackness.“Shadow spirits… tell me what you know of the Hall of the Midnight Son. I need specifics—anything that can help with a teleportation spell.”

A wisp rose from the goblet, its voice like a whisper. “The Hall has no shadow, yet it casts one. In its realm, shadows stretch toward the sun instead of away.”

Another spirit drifted free, unraveling as it spoke.“The Hall’s doors open only for those who are already inside.”

A third voice curled upward, thin and mournful.“The fog around it is not weather—it is memory. Forgotten moments shed by those who sought the Hall. Breathe it in, and you may reclaim what was lost… or lose what you did not know you carried.”

The final spirit rose slowly, as if reluctant to speak. Its voice echoed with something older than the others.

“When the Echo returns to the Hall,
The First shall rise to claim her.
The Son shall stir in fractured light,
And time shall fold like trembling wings.
Choose the path that was never walked,
Or lose the one with the demon"

Silence settled. Even the shadows seemed uneasy.

“I don’t think that helped at all,” Gem muttered, rubbing her temples. Then, with a resigned sigh: “Okay. Time to go. YOLO.”

And before anyone could object, she cast the teleportation spell on all of them.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

As soon as they materialized M’Kael threw up, his stomach bound tight as a boa constrictor on steroids, the world spinning around him didn’t help either.

While M’Kael was emptying his stomach Magdalena was grinding her teeth and gripping her spear with the Grip of Death, her knuckles white with the pressure she was exerting as she maintained her upright posture.

“I hate riddles,” M’Kael grunted. “Almost as much as I hate teleportation spells.”

“I don’t think his was our intended destination,” Magdalena said. "This looks like the Shadowfell, but I smell a dragon..."​

 

[milkmaiden38]

The team materialized in a swirl of displaced air and shimmering light. The landscape around them was wrong—wrong colors, wrong sky, wrong everything.

Angela threw her hands up. “Not our destination, Gem?”

Gem didn’t even flinch. “I told you that might happen.”

“And there’s a dragon nearby?” Angela added, her tone making it very clear this was less a question and more a pointed jab at the blonde mage’s navigation skills.

“It might be friendly,” Gem said, though her voice carried the conviction of someone trying to convince herself.

Angus tightened his grip on his axe, hooves digging into the strange soil. “Dragon! Come out and show yourself!” he bellowed.

Angela sighed dramatically. “Angus, most dragons prefer flattery, not… whatever that was. Allow me.”

She stepped forward, lifted her chin, and projected her voice with theatrical reverence.

“Oh, most fearsome and magnificent Dragon,” she called, “we know we are unworthy of your presence, yet we humbly seek an audience with you.”

She paused, then muttered under her breath, “See? It’s not that hard.”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Thick, tropical rainforests dominate the region. Fog shrouds the realm, blurring the light but letting the full heat of the sun pierce the dense forest canopy. The swamp forms as a southwestern border to the jungle valley in the central part of the realm, whereas the looming Cliffs pick up where the forest leaves off before giving way to yet more jungle.

Fed by a massive Falls, the River winds through the domain, its flow dividing east and west to the north of Shantytown and the Monadhan Outpost. The western flow spills over into the Pit whereas the eastern flow terminates in Blackfish Lake.

In the distance combat echoed through swamp and tree, the buzzing of insects bothering ears and eyes. Death screams and spells, sword against shield a never-ending echo in the mist, the smell of rot and decay fouling nose and tongue.

“This place reeks,” M’Kael complained. “And I don’t think your dragon wants to talk to us. What about Callo?”

Using her spear Magdalena pointed. “The fighting is that way. Maybe the dragon is as well.”​

 

[milkmaiden38]

“If we’re in the Shadowfell, we’re barely on the edge of it,” Gem said, scanning the horizon. “There’s too much color in the landscape for Shadowfell.”

“And way too cheerful,” Angela muttered, as if the landscape had personally offended her.

“Let’s move,” Gem said, and the group broke into a brisk trot—faster than walking, slower than a sprint.

Angela frowned as they ran. “My dragon‑flattery must be getting stale. It usually works.”

“Probably a green dragon,” Angus said, adjusting his grip on his axe. “They like swamps and jungles. And they’re usually evil. Be grateful it didn’t show up—we’d be digesting in its stomach by now.”

“Callo wouldn’t let that happen,” Angela said with absolute certainty.

Gem shot her a sideways smirk. “Who said she’s here?”

Angela stumbled mid‑stride. “What? Then why are we running toward combat?”

“That’s what we do!” Gem beamed, far too excited about it.

“We could change,” Angela gasped. “We could try something safer! I’m mortal again, remember!”

The clash of steel echoed ahead—louder now, close enough to feel in their ribs. They were almost there.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Smacking his neck and arms as he slogged through the muck and debris, M’Kael squished insects to a bloody pulp as fast as they landed, but he couldn’t get all of them.

Magdalena ignored the insects, a small prayer protecting her. Instead she was focused on the larger, but almost as deadly larger creatures.

After pulling her spear free from the third skull of the same Bear/Snake/Crocodile mutation she looked at Gem. “Accuracy in teleportation would be appreciated.”

“Agreed,” M’Kael added.

***

Finally pshing free from the swamp they stood ankle deep in things best not identified as they watched the chaos before them.

Hundreds of different species fought, some wearing colors, others bare-chested. Through the shadowy haze maybe five..or six.. groups were fighting each other. Grievous wounds, decapitations, and dismemberments were everywhere. But limbs dissolved and the dead got back up to rejoin the fight, whole once more.

“Well, that looks cozy,” M’Kael quipped.

“I suggest caution and avoidance.” Magdalena suggested.​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Gem’s eyes narrowed as she watched another warrior lose an arm, dissolve into smoke, and reappear whole again. “This is some kind of controlled conflict. A loop. A ritual. They’re not dying—they’re being reset.”

Angela wrinkled her nose. “Reset or not, I’m not stepping into that. I just got this cloak cleaned.”

Angus snorted. “Pretty sure that cloak is already ruined. You were waist‑deep in swamp muck.”

“But there’s no blood on it yet,” Angela countered with a smirky smile.

Gem didn’t look away from the battlefield. “That’s not natural. Something is feeding this cycle.”

A heavy silence settled over the group as they exchanged uneasy glances. The ground trembled with each impact from the fighting ahead, like the swamp itself was holding its breath.

Angela sighed. “You want us to go in there and figure out how to stop it, don’t you?”

Angus hefted his weapon, rolling his shoulders like he was warming up for a tavern brawl. “Doesn’t seem that bad. We’ve had worse encounters.”

Angela groaned. “Unfortunately… he’s right.”

"Ok, if this is shadowfell, the image might be a memory echo. Let's get closer, just be ready to fight if need be" Gem suggested

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

After a few minutes of observation they realized it wasn’t repeating. People were dying and being dismembered by multiple people without ending.

“Um Gem, It’s not repeating. The orc was just killed by that hobgoblin, and then was killed by a Dwarf. I think he town or people are cursed to undying death.” M’Kael as they slowly walked closer. “If we get to close.. we might get stuck as well.”

“As rare of an occasion this is, in fact I believe it’s only the second time,” Magdalena commented. “I agree with the asshole.”

“I am not knowledgeable in the Shadow Fell, or demi-planes of sorrow. Only the Hell Planes. I know some of the rumors. Strahd, Bluebeard, a lich, and others. But I don’t know their names.”

A horn sounded, echoing across the battlefield and town as it warbled in the distance. The various groups disbursed, the dead and maimed rising up to walk away whole once more. Some limped, all complained.

The misty fog parted for a blink of a moment and they could see a castle, or a keep, some fortification, in the distance.

“How about there?” M’Kael suggested. “Away from the town and the murderous dead.”​

 

[milkmaiden38]

The Castle​

The team skirted the edge of the fog covered town and slipped into a narrow band of forest. They moved sliently as they crept toward the far side, where the trees thinned and the land opened into a wide, barren field.

From the shadowed treeline, the castle dominated the horizon.

Eight slim, square towers speared upward from the curtain wall, their silhouettes stark against the sky. The wall itself was a fortress of brown stone—thick, weathered, and built to endure centuries of siege. Narrow windows dotted the towers in precise symmetry, broken only by the darker slits of archer ports and artillery holes designed to turn the field into a killing ground.

The front gate of the outer wall yawned open, an invitation or a trap—impossible to tell from this distance.

At the center of the enclosure rose the castle proper: a massive, round keep, broader and taller than the wall towers. Its colossal metal doors glinted faintly, flanked by more archer holes like watchful eyes. Everything about it radiated confidence, as if the builders assumed no one would dare challenge it.

Between the forest and the keep stretched a field of exposed nothingness. No cover. No shadows. Anyone approaching would be visible long before they reached the gate.

Angus exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “I think we should just walk up there like we own the place.”

“I could cast invisibility on the ones who need it,” Gem offered, already weighing spell slots.

“I like that idea,” Angela said, eyes fixed on the towers.

Gem glanced at M’Kael and Magdelena. “Thoughts?”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

“If it’s empty we could hole up and look for journals or something to give us information.” M’Kael suggested.

“It’s not empty,” Magdalena commented. “There is evil everywhere, but definitely in there. And something in the jungle is heading this way.”

“As for invisibility, we can try it.” She added.

“Lots of shadows and darkness here, I can try and scout ahead as well,” M’Kael said. “Get some numbers, see what’s going on. What they are. That kind of thing.”​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Gem’s agreement landed softly, but with that familiar edge of calculation. “That sounds like a good idea,” she told M’Kael as he slipped into the shadows. “Meanwhile, the rest of us are going to become invisible.”

A shimmer of magic rippled across the group—Angus, Angela, Gem, and Magdalena vanished from sight.

As they crept toward the outer wall, Angus muttered, “Why is there always something evil and terrible blocking our way?”

“Evil is a slippery word,” he continued, warming to his own philosophy. “We toss it around like a label. Maybe whatever’s inside that castle is just… misunderstood.”

Gem answered with the tone of someone who had absolutely no patience for moral relativism at this hour. “Immoral, malicious, or cruel behavior—especially when it inflicts suffering without remorse. That’s evil. And that’s why we fight it.”

“Fine,” Angus said. “Then whatever’s in that castle can be our test case.”

They stopped about fifty yards from the main gate, the looming structure framed by moonlight. “This is close enough,” Gem whispered. “We wait here for M’Kael.”

Angela leaned close to Angus—too close for someone invisible. “Don’t say anything,” she breathed into his ear. A moment later, he felt her unzipping his pants.

“Hey! Angela—stop that!” Angus hissed, swatting at empty air. “What are you doing?”

“You’re invisible,” she whispered, utterly unbothered. “So I can give you a nice long blowjob and no one will know.”

“I’ll know,” he whispered back, firm and flustered. “And I don’t want to be caught with my pants down.”

“Spoilsport,” Angela grumbled, the word drifting through the darkness like a pout made of sound.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

“Invisibility matters naught if you continue making the racket of a horde of idiots.” Magdalena whispered. “Angela whatever you doing stop doing it. Angus sounds like a stuck pig.”

Swinging her spear in the direction of the voices. “Shut up, already.”

The shadows along the wall deepened as M’Kael moved amongst the enemy. His steps silent, and his ears alert. Taking a rough count and observation of positions he moved back outside.

Sliding out of the shadows he leaned against the wall around the corner from the gate.

“Good news or bad news?” he asked softly.

“Spill it already asshole,” Magdalena growled.​

 

[milkmaiden38]

Everyone was still invisible, but that didn’t stop them from swarming M’Kael like a pack of unseen hacklers.

“Spill it, bro,” Angus said, already impatient.

“Spill it already, you cosmic‑grade ass‑wipe,” Angela snapped, jabbing an invisible finger into his ribs.

“Spill it, dick‑for‑brains,” Gem added.

A chorus of invisible harassment, all aimed at the one guy who actually knew what was going on.