I slunk through the night to Trammel, zipping through a portal to Umbra. Coming out, I breathed a sigh of relief: Umbra was necromancer town, and according to my journals, that’s what I am. So I perused the mage shop, a shop decked out in all grey and red–like most of Umbra.
“Know what you are doing with these reagents, my lady?” the necromancer asked, sacking them up for me.
“I’m afraid I do,” I lied, letting the prow of my robe hide my lying eyes.
I paid the man what he asked, got directions to the potion seller, and headed his way. Here was where the mystery would either accept me or reject me–at least for a time. I approached the building, striding up those black stones to the temple of death. Dark luck was with me. The only robed figure in the place at this hour was a…
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