The Crown of Death

Sister Darcé Arbanos has been having visions. Or so you're told. You're just an adventurer, a dangerous odd-jobber and tomb-raider. But here your paths have crossed and now she's following you around. Something about ancient wrongs needing to be righted. Before history was recorded in these lands, there was a kingdom of death-cultists that ruled the isles from their necropoli. But millennia have passed since, and all that remains of this empire of the dead is just that: The dead. Their opulent tombs are dusty and crumbling, and the great magicks of undeath that they perfected in their heyday have been reduced to the rotting pages of illegible tomes. Of their kingdom, only mindless ghouls remain, no preserved minds or flesh to be found. They are gone. The monthly theme was something about 'arid realms' so I said some of that 'sure, why the hell not' and put this one together. Cooked this one up listening to Turjan Aylahn's "Tanc a Lelek" on loop. Big encouragement you give it at least one listen. Show a little love if you liked the Scenario, it doesn't hurt you but it does feed my unhealthy need for praise.