Re: PUBLIC IN-GAME THREAD
The remnants of the necromancer's workshop were in ruins. Nothing usable in the place; nothing of interest, either, except . . . the necromancer's mortal life ended here, and the magic he unleashed on the island enabled his spirit to continue.
When Jaesin, Vans, and Darrell arrived, the necromancer appeared -- quite perturbed at the devastation wrecked upon his creations.
"You underestimate the powers I have gained since I have taken this form," he intoned. "And you have kindly brought me a ship: Now I can leave this island and reach the mainland, where I can find countless souls for an army larger than this one."
Jaesin stepped forth and sternly rebuked the necromancer.
"No!" he lectured. "It is you who have underestimated, and badly. Your horde is crushed, your power is nothing. You are not a shell of a man; you are something less than a shell. Your legacy is nothing; your power ebbs even now, and you will fade into nothingness. You will be forgotten: no memories of you will endure, no legacy shall remain. You will be but a speck of sand in the hourglass of time."
The necromancer's spirit grew angry and it tried . . . something. But whatever it was trying to do, it did not work. Whatever power he had was gone, likely dissipated with the destruction of his army. He snarled, then grew alarmed, then summoned his energy for one last try at gathering and exerting his power. But there was nothing there to gather, and the effort slowly tore the fabric of the necromancer's spirit asunder.