The sun will be perfectly aligned in a couple of days. I am supposed to be pleased but, as every year, at the approach of the summer solstice, I feel overwhelmed by melancholy. I remember with sadness the day of the sacrifice of my brothers. At that time, our civilization was in decline. Only the principal cities resisted to the incessant attacks of the big dinosaurs. I lived in the great city of Ganoxa. My fondness for Black magic led me slowly towards necromancy and I was subjugated by its power. The North tower had collapsed, and the dinosaurs had invaded the city. I had no choice, I took refuge in the crypt and I shamefully absorbed the life of the last members of my familly to protect myself. Thanks to this new source of power, I was able to begin to raise an army of mummies and complete the construction of the royal tomb. Today, five hundred years have passed, and the astronomical cycle is coming to its end. I will finally be able to give life back to my brothers. I await the imminent arrival of an adventurers group that I managed to attract thanks to a parchment. The secret message indicates that a legendary artefact is buried somewhere in the crypt of Ganoxa. I intend to use the vital force of these greedy heroes to carry out my plan.
Extract from “The last of the Thalhio K’tan” by Witakin Raza, necromancer.
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