Mark_Leopold

In a world of many magics, the lost and feared magic may rise again. Only Gerald will decide the fate of those long dead, in more ways than one. But will he destroy the established order and an army of lies, fables, and half truths before those in power destroy him and potentially damage itself? Or, will it truly be the Necromancers End...?

Warning: Contains references and themes of slavery, racism, sexism, murder, undead creatures, and references.

The Necromancer's End

Gorshemar's eternal lights shone beneath the four people as they soared over it on an oversized broom.

"I really hate heights…" Isadora said her voice barely carried above the wind, grabbing Gerald around the chest in a tight hug that almost knocked the wind out of him. "I wish you had explained this part of the plan BEFORE I got on."

"Just don't look down until you have to." Gerald replied with a smile. "I need you for this, Isadora."

"I told you I should have whipped up a calming potion for her before coming." Fennel said over the sound of the wind. "Would have taken the edge off almost immediately."

"It could have knocked her out, and we need her alert." Gerald replied to the woman in front of him. Lime was at the end of the magically elongated broom and was silent, but held onto the broom with his knuckles white, and not just from the cold.

The Great Theft