“Get to work, Hans.” You say. Hans says nothing in response. How could he? His tongue rotted away long ago, and his lower jaw is fused to his skull at an odd angle. He was your rival, once. You got the better of him, though, and now it amuses you to keep his body around, as an undead servant.

Hans doesn’t smell very good, these days, but the dark power that animates his dead limbs gives him considerable strength. He puts his shoulder to the stone door of the crypt, and starts to push it open.

Your name is ${character.name}, and you’re a necromancer. You’ve journeyed deep into the Eastern Wildlands, in search of the forgotten crypt of Velzix. You have questions for the old sorcerer, or what’s left of him. He had power, once. You plan to add it to your own.

With a grinding of stone, the heavy stone falls aside. Hans lets out a groan, full of despair and accusation. “Oh, stop whining.” You say. The ghoul’s dead eyes stare through you, as he steps back to let you enter.

You light a torch, hand it to Hans, and step forward into the darkened passageway.

As you descend deeper into the forgotten tomb, you notice that