The Necromancer's apprentice

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The Na'Darod manor sat forty miles south of the city of Lakis, in Caristan's sparse countryside. Laced modestly with withering ivy, the greystone structure was confined within the boundaries of a wooden fence which snaked a path through the trunks of the surrounding white birches. The fence showed much age, with many planks having been reduced to rotting wood over the years, rendering them useless.

In the early years of our family's history, the Na'Darod manor was a prosperous farm, producing the finest wheat and corn. Every mid-autumn for subsequent years, the manor's perimeters were graced with eloquent auburn tones of the foliage that painted a picturesque example of the season's hidden treasures. The temperate winds carried the scents of fallen seeds and a promise of another prosperous harvest.

This year, however, the autumn skies saw the Blood Moon more often than usual; thus, the harvests did not come. The farmlands surrounding the manor were mostly barren, dusty specks of voided life. Likewise, the birch forests around its perimeter were reduced to hollow, white-striped trunks protruding with death-tinged branches. The earth was dry and thirsted for the rains once more, but it had been months since the lands were graced with a single drop and everyone in Caristan felt its impact.

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