1. Locations

Bricked Shack

The Bricked Shack 

Lygos — A Forgotten Scar of Necromancy

On a quiet, unremarkable street in the old quarter of Lygos stands a ruined shack, little more than a sagging outline of timber swallowed by ivy and rot. Locals call it simply “the Bricked Shack,” and most avoid it without quite knowing why.

Fifty years ago, this modest dwelling was the site of a horrific magical catastrophe—an act of desperate necromancy that changed Lygos forever.


The Tragedy

Half a century ago, six mages lived and studied here under a reclusive but brilliant arcane scholar. When their beloved mentor died suddenly, the apprentices—grief-stricken and overconfident—attempted a forbidden resurrection ritual deep in the shack’s small basement.

Something went wrong.

Whispers say the ritual tore at reality, exposed a soul to something beyond, or invoked a power no mortal mage could control.
Six apprentices died instantly, their bodies contorted by a surge of necrotic force so powerful that it burned their shadows into the stone.

The seventh—already dead—remained dead.

The horror was enough for Lygos to declare all necromancy strictly outlawed.
The Arcane Guild vowed eternal vigilance against practitioners of the art, a vow still honored today.


What Remains Today

The shack was thoroughly cleaned, sanctified, and scrubbed by clerics—but the smell never left. At midday it smells merely stale, but at night a faint, unmistakable rot seems to seep from the cracks, as though the building exhales a memory.

With no family to reclaim it and no buyer willing to take it, the city:

  • bricked up the windows,

  • bricked up the door,

  • posted a small plaque,

  • and left it to collapse under its own weight.

Rainwater streaks the bricks. Moss consumes the steps. The roof bows like a spine that refuses to break. Children dare each other to approach it, though few ever get close.


The Hidden Truth

The Arcane Guild believed it cleaned the site thoroughly. But no one realized the ritual left a thin place in the basement—a wound in the veil between the Material Plane and the Shadowfell.

The thinning:

  • flickers in and out every few weeks,

  • chills the floorboards above with a cold draft,

  • creates deep, unnatural shadows beneath the building,

  • and occasionally draws small, curious creatures from beyond.

Stray dogs avoid the place.
Candles sputter when carried near it.
Even passing guards report a faint feeling of being watched from below.

Most nights, nothing happens.

But on some nights—usually new moons or storm-heavy evenings—the thinness deepens, and the basement briefly touches the Shadowfell. A shadow might shift without light. A whisper might echo when no one speaks. A cold hand might brush past a cobweb.

No one knows.
No one goes inside.

But the thinning remains… waiting to be discovered, or to widen.

Six Lost Apprentices

1. Aelanyth Vathirian

High Elf • Oldest Apprentice • Scholar and Perfectionist

In Life

Aelanyth was the eldest and most disciplined of the apprentices—quiet, brilliant, and fiercely protective of her mentor. She acted as the de facto leader of the group and often mediated arguments. Her notes were exhaustive, her spellwork immaculate.

She insisted the resurrection attempt could work. Her confidence pushed the others forward.

In Undeath (Hollow Wight)

Aelanyth wanders the Shadowfell echo of the basement with her hands forever miming the flipping of pages. Invisible spellbooks turn under her fingers as she silently reviews lessons no longer there.

Her posture is rigid and precise, but her eyes are empty wells of flickering gray.

Sometimes, she lifts a hand as if to hush the others—still trying to lead them, even in death.


🧟‍♀️ 2. Sarrira Emberhuff

Copper Dragonborn • Optimist • Warm-Hearted Apprentice

In Life

Sarrira was bubbly, enthusiastic, and loved making jokes—sometimes inappropriate ones during lessons. She was the glue that kept spirits high. She believed magic was meant to bring joy, and saw necromancy as a kindness: a way to return someone precious.

She supplied the rare materials for the ritual.

In Undeath (Hollow Wight)

Sarrira’s Hollow Wight form is one of the saddest. Her shoulders slump, her copper scales dulled to tarnished, almost greenish hues. Her claws twitch in repeated attempts to perform gestures she once used for cantrips and illusions.

Faint crackling motes of shadow cling to her hands—echoes of the joy magic she once loved.

She paces in figure-eights, retracing the original ritual circle, as though trying to correct it.


🧟‍♂️ 3. Kaedric Holt

Human Male • Ambitious • Brilliant but Impatient

In Life

Kaedric was quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and constantly pushing himself. He was the one who proposed modifying the original resurrection spell to “improve its stability,” unknowingly making it more dangerous.

He admired Professor Renn deeply but always felt overshadowed by the elf apprentices.

In Undeath (Hollow Wight)

Kaedric shuffles rapidly, as though restless even in death. His Hollow Wight form wrings its hands ceaselessly, mimicking his old habits of constant thinking and fidgeting.

Sometimes he slams his palm on invisible parchment—the echo of his frustration.

He is the most reactive of the six, turning toward sounds or movement with eerie speed.


🧟‍♂️ 4. Bromdur Granitehand

Dwarf Male • Stubborn • Loyal to a Fault

In Life

Bromdur was quiet, steadfast, and fiercely loyal—especially to Professor Renn, who once saved him from a cursed artifact. He wasn’t the strongest spellcaster, but he had an unshakable heart and a booming laugh.

He participated in the ritual out of love and duty.

In Undeath (Hollow Wight)

Bromdur’s wight lumbers slowly along the wall, one hand dragging across the stone in a repetitive gesture—he was tracing runes there during the ritual.

His face is slack and jaw slightly open, as if trying to sing—but silence falls out instead.

Occasionally, he kneels at the shadow of the ritual circle and presses his palm to the floor.


🧟‍♂️ 5. Ulf Emberbound

Halfling Male • Gentle Soul • Fond of Tea and Stories

In Life

Ulf was the youngest in spirit, despite being middle-aged by halfling standards. He loved to brew tea for everyone in the shack and had a calming presence. He feared the ritual but didn’t want to let the others face it alone.

His hands always smelled like herbs.

In Undeath (Hollow Wight)

Ulf's Hollow Wight repeatedly mimes pouring invisible tea into invisible cups. He even brings an empty hand to where his lips once were.

Sometimes he sits cross-legged in a corner, hands cupped as though holding a warm mug—but nothing is there.

His shadow is always slightly too long, stretching behind him like a spilled memory.


🧟‍♀️ 6. Lysandra Vel

Half-Elf Female • Kindhearted • The Most Emotional of the Group

In Life

Lysandra was tender-hearted and easily moved to tears. She adored Professor Renn and saw him as a father figure. She was terrified of the resurrection ritual and nearly backed out. Aelanyth convinced her to stay.

Her voice was soft, her magic elegant and subtle.

In Undeath (Hollow Wight)

Lysandra stands silently in the corner of the Shadowfell version of the shack, arms crossed over her stomach as though holding herself together. Her head tilts just slightly—like a child listening for comfort.

Sometimes, though she makes no sound, her shoulders shake as though weeping.

Her Hollow Wight looks toward where Professor Renn appears most often, as if she senses him but cannot perceive him.


💀 What They Mean to Professor Renn

He remembers every one of them:

  • Aelanyth: “My prodigy… my steadfast star…”

  • Sarrira: “Her laughter made the shack feel alive.”

  • Kaedric: “Brilliant boy… always reaching too high.”

  • Bromdur: “Never failed a friend. Not even at the end.”

  • Ulf: “He made the best tea. I miss it still.”

  • Lysandra: “Sweet child… she deserved joy, not this.”

He sees them as his greatest failure—and his greatest love.

The Lost Six

The Lost Six: The Wights of the Shadowed Shack

When the resurrection ritual catastrophically failed fifty years ago, the six apprentices did not simply die. Their bodies were found in twisted poses, their faces frozen in horror—but when the Arcane Guild returned after cleansing the shack, the corpses had vanished.

Everyone believed the necrotic blast had simply consumed them.

Everyone was wrong.


🌑 What Truly Happened

The ritual didn’t just kill the apprentices. It ripped their souls out and hurled their bodies across the planar boundary—into the Shadowfell.

There, the Shadowfell’s oppressive despair hollowed them out, warping them into twisted reflections of their former selves. Not intelligent enough to be true undead spellcasters, but not mindless skeletons either—they became wights, but emptier than even the undead should be.

These creatures are known only to one soul:
Professor Halvior Renn, who has seen them wandering the echo of the bricked shack beneath the Shadowfell’s eternal gloom.


🩸 Appearance in the Shadowfell

The Lost Six look like:

  • bloodless, stretched silhouettes of their living forms,

  • eyes sunken into vacant pits,

  • faces slack and expressionless,

  • fingers elongated into grasping, twitching claws,

  • robes tattered by decades of drifting in darkness,

  • faint violet sigils flickering across their skin—marks of the failed resurrection spell.

They do not speak.
They do not think.
They do not remember.

They simply exist, shuffling endlessly around the shadow-version of the shack, tracing the same steps they walked in life—studying, pacing, working, waiting.


💀 Behavior

Unlike normal wights, these beings do not serve any dark master.

They mindlessly reenact fragments of their old routines:

  • One sits before a phantom desk covered in imaginary books.

  • One endlessly stirs a pot of nonexistent tea.

  • One bangs on an invisible chalkboard, as though continuing a lecture.

  • One lies curled in a corner, silently rocking.

  • One paces in a tight circle, muttering without sound.

  • One stands near where the ritual circle once lay, head bowed, as if waiting for instructions that will never come.

Their actions loop every few minutes. They rarely attack unless approached too closely—or unless drawn by strong emotion.

They are shadows of memories, not predators.


⚰️ Why They Didn’t Move On

Professor Renn understands, though he hates to say it:

“They… loved me too much. Their grief bound them. They tried to use death to undo death… and something else answered.”

Their souls were pulled wrong, partway into the Shadowfell, but their minds shattered.

They cannot pass on.
They cannot return.
They are trapped.


👻 Professor Renn’s Torment

The professor sees them often—sometimes daily, depending on where the thinning aligns.

He knows each one by name and shape. They never respond, never recognize him. Still, he tries:

  • He speaks to them.

  • He apologizes to them.

  • He recites lessons they once learned together.

  • He begs them to wake up.

None of them ever react.

This is the deepest wound he carries.

Sometimes, he asks travelers:

“If… if you ever see them… please be gentle. They meant well. They only… wanted to undo a mistake.”


⚠️ Adventure Implication

Because the thinning in the shack fluctuates, there may be times when:

  • One of the wights slips partially through.

  • A shadowy silhouette appears behind a bricked window.

  • A cold arm phases through the wall.

  • Players hear the whisper of an apprentice’s name.

  • One wight claws at the stone from inside the bricked basement.

This can create:

  • haunting encounters,

  • partial manifestations,

  • accidental shadow-attacks,

  • or a full incursion if the veil tears further.