Manuel Rogerson

In 1923, a small unmarked kingdom of impoverished creatures of all kinds. A lovely prince who sought for peace and riches. The son of an iron ruler and disturbed king who treated their subjects as near dirt. Crone was the son of the king and he had strong feelings in the ways of his fathers father's kingship. The king had paid no mind and often ran his people in the ground while he rested easy. Crone was one day taken and the king was now put in a tight situation. Step down from kingship or watch his son die before his eyes. Before he could make his choice. A slip of the knife would steer Crone to his untimely demise. The king was furious and punished the entire kingdom. His knights flaying people to death. Chopping and butchering. He killed nearly every citizen there and then killed himself. Crone would stay there. Gasping on air and dying with blood filling his mouth as all he worked for when to wash. He couldn't even blame the poor people of his land for he felt the same. Fear washed over the prince as he lied there in wait. It was so dark. Dark like midnight sun. Everything was so slow. So tired... Then with a shot of adrenaline he shot his eyes open to a dark green hue followed by a pink specter. She was only several inches away from his face. Her eyes and mouth were stitched shut. She imitated the purest form of life. A devious smile crawled on her face. She would have touched his face and made him more. "I will help you but your curse is the lack of humanity. Now become more and do our work." She preached to him. He kissed upon his head gently as his skin turned to a pale leather. No more fur. No more mane. No more tail. Some of his teeth would have fallen out and his eyes would turn to dust. His right arm and shiver as his hoof turned to a disgusting hand. Long dry fingers with no nail. His skin hugged his skeleton as if he was malnourished. The darkness faded and so did the watcher. The grand necromancer would have been born. He would use his new found powers to destroy the king and rule himself. Now he is fascinated with the living. He even keeps living creatures as pets and experiments. Now he commands the undead with a fist of pure earth.