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Year 120: Flamerule 30: Evening.

During the fight, I'd tried to kick the door in, then felt quite embarassed when it failed to budge. Now I've been inside the room, I see that it's a kitchen, and they'd moved the cooking range over the doorway to stop anyone breaking through it. I feel less pathetic all of a sudden. While we were resting, we noticed that there was a large dumb-waiter in the kitchen, large enough to fit Marigold or myself fairly easily. A voice drifted down through the shaft commanding someone to go and find out what all the noise was about. I guess we didn't have much time to wait after all.

Deciding we didn't have much longer to keep our advantage, I suggested the party push forward, so that any other inhabitants of the building would remain spread out, and we moved into the main hallway of the town hall and dispatched the small number of skeletons guarding it with ease. Tyrael gave off a wave of pleasure as I used the bannister of the staircase as a platform and took out the last one, I think he likes it when I do flashy things, I've given up trying to convince him I'm not a hero, it's easier on me just to let him assume I am.

Charging up the stairs, we discovered a large room entirely carpeted in bones. Argent shouted that nobody was allowed to do any magic in this room, so I resolved not to set the entire room on fire, and moved onto the next, where a scrawny man stood with a couple more skeletons. He looked like he was in charge.

I still don't feel like a hero. In the stories heroes are never afraid, they never mess up, they're always doing impressive flashy stuff, and they come out of every fight unscathed. In the fight that followed, Tyrael turned into a dagger to mock me, and I ended up chasing the necromancer into the dumbwaiter. Marigold dropped down the shaft behind me then somersaulted over his head to flank him in the room. I spent the entire fight trapped in the shaft while the necromancer doused me in unholy fire, stabbed me with his dagger and ripped chunks of my hair out.

After a little while of this, and on the verge of colapse I dived out of the dumbwaiter in an attempt to just get away from him. With my own blood pooling in my eyes from a large wound in my head, my left leg almost useless from a cut in my ankle, my hair on fire, and his clawed fingers digging into my skull I couldn't really tell up from down anymore. A moment later I was sitting on the floor with the necromancer split into multiple flaming pieces with no idea what had happened. The party who'd mostly managed to get back down to the front room again were charging off to help Argent out in the room above. The rest of the day was a bit of a blur to me, it was enough effort just to keep up with the party, let alone contribute anything useful or remember what happened. Nope, definately not one of those heroes from the books.

From what I can tell, the necromancer had set up an enchantment that would re-animate him in the room of bones when he died, but whatever Argent had done to the room, the new body was still on fire when it awoke, and colapsed in agony the moment it began moving. I think that fire came from me, and I felt terrible that this person was consigned to such torment, even if they were evil. After a while the bodies stopped forming, maybe he'd given up.

Vincent commented that the room of bones was on the first floor, and we hadn't seen any way to get to the room below it. A moment later Marigold had discovered the trapdoor to the room below and we were investigating a shrine to Shar that was set up to allow all the depraved acts the necromancer had been performing to go on. I think maybe the altar there was powering the enchantment on the room above. The room was also unnaturally dark, even a sunrod couldn't penetrate to the corners of the room. We destroyed the altar and Vincent picked up some weird looking robes he thought were magical, we'll get Argent to steal the magic from them and make something useful.

The final room in the building had been bricked up. Tearing down the wall we discovered that there was darkness in the room beyond. Not normal darkness, but a fluid viscous darkness that slowly seeped out into the room we were in. The stuff gave off a very strong aura of evil, and slowly began to creep towards us. I responded by throwing all the magic I could muster into it, which did nothing other than push it back a little. Argent and Ayeena fared no better.

With the stuff still spreading slowly, Vincent tossed a small coin into it to see what would happen, and Marigold, unthinking, dived after it, immersing her entire arm into the darkness to catch the coin. Immediately the poor girl lost all will to live, and in a monotone flat voice declared that there was no point to anything really, and that we may as well all stay here and let the darkness consume us. I decided that this would be a good time to get out of the place, so I picked up Marigold and dropped her into the bag of holding, then fled, the others in quick tow.

Marigold had fallen into the pool of water in the botom of the bag, which had washed the darkness off her, and this seemed to perk her right up. Argent and Vincent declared that this would be a good time to call it a day, so after they sealed the trapdoor again we headed out of the town to make camp, this was probably a good thing as by the time we made it out of the town exhaustion had completely overcome me, and I colapsed into sleep before the fire had even been lit.