Undeath 'When the night grows dark and the cold winds blow, Then the dead come creeping, Crawling up from down below, From the hells where they were sleeping.' -From 'Dance of the Dead', a traditional poem.
Though it has been a long time since the old gods danced on Eldyr in its molten beginnings, but their dread magic still remains, for those who know how to harness it. And what time more perfect than a war, when all are distracted, to delve into forbidden magics long forgotten. Four adventurers, all at once