In his dark sanctum, the Necro King is troubled. He has heard reports from his spies of movement from the accursed charlatans of light. One such presumptuous fool had been seen stalking through the alleyways of his city. He was seen attempting to employ a sellsword.
The Necro King is not troubled by this development so much as by the fact that he has been inactive for far too long. He had been attending to the bureaucratic needs of his city and had not been taking an active role in putting down such rebellion. He recalled the last time he had fought with any real purpose. While establishing his city, a wild man from the woods had attempted to kill both he and a colleague. The crazed man fought his colleague first and defeated her, but the Necro King earned his title by killing the man.
It had been a hard fought battle. Falcons had torn at his face and he had been pummeled by stones, of all things. He had had no choice but to call out his trusted guards, great hulking Brutes that he had raised as zombies. After the minions had torn apart the beast man's friends, he retreated to summon forth a large bear and this proved his undoing. The Necro King teleported him back into the midst of his Zombies and they tore him apart in a bloody frenzy.
Now a new challenge had come. The Necro King did not know if he could rely solely on his allies as he had before. He may yet have to take the field. But what truly troubled him was that he was not sure if the emotion that stirred his heart was excitement at proving himself again or fear.
