As the channel to Dedmans mind begins to close, he begins channeling mana, Visions of his homelands flash before his eyes in rapid succession, with a smirk he releases his grip on the mystical energies brought forth and forces the channel open. Sending horrible visions to Curulan, a dark decrepit swamp where no living thing dares to tread. Undead Abominations of all shapes and sizes shambling across an endless wasteland. Each of these formerly living creatures crying out in pain and suffering, thousands of voices each speaking a single unintelligible sound, but if taken together form an unholy chorus of shrieks that can be understood as mourning, not for the dead, nor the living, but for this place.
The voice of a young man lifts above the others, forcing itself to be known: *"Curulan, death is an outdated concept, we sleep, and we change. Change is always painful, it was simply your guards turn to change. He will return not as his former self, but as something more powerful in a land that desperately needs his help. As for dedman, he is from this place, and can help you."*
Dedman allows the mind twist to collapse and hopes that he gave Curulan something to think about while he inspects the blood remaining on the floor.
"A simple task to channel mana, but impossible to fully control." Dedman rambles to no-one. A quick incantation and a wave of the hand and the blood blackens and boils, a thick cloud of smoke rises, and is cleared by the opening of the door. Dedman is out of the room leaving only a note: "Touch that spot within the next 24 hours and die, found what I needed. Curulan is going to need help with this one."