A cold and cadavorous collection of nefarious necromancers.
Daltorz was the greatest weapon of the Summoners and but in the end he caused the downfall of hundreds of magicians and today his very name strikes terror in the hearts of wizards.
Within the lost tomb of Abu Khanut, Agarn the Impulsive brought the forgotten priest’s curse down upon his student, Alain Piercetongue. Now the wrath of an ancient god stalks the desert sands.
The Headsman is drawn to areas where great injustices have occurred. ... He is absolutely cold and emotionless. The only mercy he knows is swift death.
“MINE!!!!” thundered the demon as he caught site of the chests of gold coins. With a gesture of his hand the chests rose, sundering the enchantments which held them down and drew them towards him.
30 slingers of spells, vendors of enchantment, and bizarrement.
"You would be wise not to cross me. I have powers that you cannot even begin to comprehend. Do not anger me, lest I turn you into a goose, fat and ugly. Then if you are lucky and I am in a forgiving mood, I won’t eat you for supper."
Based on Muro’s Archaic Words Challenge, the word myomancer.
Thirty Mages for every kind of magical world out there.
Do as thou Will…
“Do you trust me? Do you feel I can get you through this night?”
They looked unsure. Slowly, each nodded. One even spoke, “I believe you can get me through this night.”
“Good. I believe we can reach the morning light. Now here is what we need to do…...”
Clad in a rainment of silver scale and chain armor, Ixia is the second member of the Trinity
Creator of the Black Book, the primogen tome of necromancy, few names are as feared or reviled as that of Mastere.
Saddah, the patron of games. A mysterious woman you might see around games of luck, undoubtly another fan… or an evil spirit that will take the most driven gambler with her.
James does not have any intrest in power, money or any of the other things necromancers normally desire. He is a content man but as he is hounded by his former and disappointed master he is being pushed quite close to the edge.
A freed air elemental, with a reason to stick around.
A voice as supple as silk, a face hidden in the shadows of a hood, yet the words she speaks are colder than the grave and burn more furiously than any inferno.
The saloon was smokey on the hot prairie night. She looked over her fan at her fellow players. The fan hid her smile, but not the smile in her eyes. “Well Gentlemen, I think I won’t call you on that.” Her dollars hit the table. “I think I’ll raise.”
Thenadore is a small boy who always laugh and who is considered a child prodigy. However there is a secret concerning him. A secret few knows about.
Shelandra looks the part of a powerful Necromantic Sorceress. She is tall, pale, and coldly beautiful. She has a castle that always seems to have a storm over it. She has pet monsters. She has a small personal army of Skeletons. She scares the peasants and makes the local nobles uneasy. However, if pressed, nobody can actually recall her doing anything really Evil.
Psychic on Duty is all the aged red neon sign says in the storefront window. It is a small storefront and in a less than great section of town. You don’t expect much.
An old, misanthropic and paranoid man feels his time is coming. There are sons to leave his fortune to, but they are not worth it, not a dime do they deserve! And he doesn't really trust anyone else. And so he has made a decision: as a part of his last will, his henchmen are instructed to burn and destroy all his holdings, buildings as harvest. The lands shall be auctioned off, the proceeds used to pay the servants. Nothing shall stay behind. Nothing.
Depending on the status of the grumpy old man, this weird occurrence may be only a family drama, or it may end up bringing an entire region into chaos. Or the son(s) have found what should happen, and want to prevent it before their sick father dies.