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Their bones were frail, yes, but their postures erect and their faces angry
and full of dark power. They were the vanguard of the Mar Sara Confederacys
forces--Xal Nedras necromancers. At their head stood one cruel figure, more
imposing and miasmic then the rest. Demis, high priest of Xal-Nedra. Eyes
flashed with hatred and horror at the morbid secrets only he was privy to.
A voice, if that is what it could be called, haunted his dreams, invaded his
thoughts, and in exchange for an existence that tottered on the brink of
insanity each day, he was imbued with power immeasurable.