Another Ancient Graveyard... Somewhere near Draco... (Soul Searching II)

[OOC: Mycheal is once again searching the oldest gravesites in Aegis in an attempt to find someone, or something, that knows, or knew, where to find the lost city of F'Tallian. This is a "semi-continuance" from A Forgotten Graveyard... Soul Searching.]

*Within a heavily forested area some distance from Draco Mycheal sets upon a stone whose surface is nearly rubbed smooth from years of weathering. The faint glyphs are barely recognizable, the language incomprehensible. Yet to the necromancer the aura of death is unmistakable. The corpse callers mumble silently at the edge of the pit their arms moving in intricate patterns which would be near impossible for living creatures. The zombies and skeletons dig into the earth beneath the stone at the mental commands of the necromancer Mycheal nearby. Mycheal watches on in quiet meditation as he attempts to touch the aura of the corpses beneath so that when uncovered their rebirth may be smooth.*

*Mycheal leaps from his perch and moves into the sloped pit just wide enough for two men abreast. He waves the undead from before him and out of his way as he grins, manically running his hands across the scared yet solid stone which covers the entrance to the tomb. His voices reverberates from somewhere within his chest, though seeming almost to each from the void beyond. It is a cold hollow sounds that seems to echo with other voices each sounding indistinct and far away...*

I told you my brothers... you see these markings...?

*He gestures to the stone yet the skeletons and zombies simply gaze at him deadly. The zombies due to their lack of any real fathom of thought, the skeletons because of their strictly limited solider mind-set. The corpse callers however gaze at the tomb's entrance their sunken faces opening in what can only be described as a horrid smile. The dried almost leathered skin on their faces cracked yet still hanging on.*

There is a chance that someone here will either know of the knowledge we seek... or at least provide more company for our motley crew...

*He traces the sigils upon the stone and summons the soulburn to his aide, his hands flaring with a sickening green flame as the area around him grows deathly chill. Moments later the stone simply melts like water into a puddle of sand at his feet as his gaze scans the room beyond. His emotionless eyes seem to flash with what might be interpreted with anger and he simply turns around and walks out of the pit.*

The methods of preservation used by these people where far to primitive...

*He says over his shoulder as he turns towards the southeast and begins walking. As if from some unheard mental command, yet more likely because they were used to this behavoir, the corpses simply turned and followed as their master continued his search.*

[OOC: Continued in: the Thunderlands @ The Babysitter...]