“Rise! Rise, and serve!” The voice is the first thing you hear, awakening you from a sleep of centuries. It’s female, sultry and full of passion, but sure and commanding. You have no eyes to open, but somehow you see its owner clearly, a striking, black-haired woman in a robe cut to display generous amounts of pale breast and thigh. Bone rattles against metal as you rise from the stone slab where you’ve lain for…you don’t know how long. You remember that your name was ${character.name}, in life, but nothing else. It seems you were a warrior, though. You’re still clad in the rusted remains of chainmail, and your bony fingers clutch an ancient curved sword. You rise, and stand at attention before your new mistress. “Good, good.” She says, not unkindly. “You’re still mostly intact. Come, follow me. We have much work to do.” You feel a compulsion to obey her command. You take a creaking step forward, then another. Your muscle and sinew rotted away long ago, but some dark power holds you together. You walk slowly after the robed woman. Watching her swaying hips, you feel a strange stirring in what remains of your loins. Your rusted codpiece feels uncomfortably tight, somehow. It’s pitch black in this crypt, but somehow you see clearly as you make your way down a narrow stone corridor. “My name is Elleanor.” She says. “Now, let’s rouse your companions.” Looking around, you see that you’ve shared this tomb with dozens of other skeletons, lying on stone slabs, all armed and armored like you. Elleanor stops by the nearest skeleton. Her hand glows deep purple as she makes a gesture in the air. “Rise! Rise, and serve!” Another skeleton stirs.