In a small village nestled in the foothills of the mountains, there lived a necromancer who was feared by all those who knew of him. He was a powerful and mysterious figure, shrouded in secrecy and rumors of the dark arts. It was said that he could command the dead, spoke with spirits, and could even create new life. He dwelt alone in a ramshackle old cottage deep in the woods, rarely leaving its threshold. When he did, it was only to gather herbs and strange materials for his spells and potions. The villagers stayed away, too afraid to risk his wrath, but they believed that the necromancer could help them with the hardships of their lives. He was often called upon to provide aid when all else seemed lost, and the people were thankful for his help though often the price for his assitance was their service after death thus creating a cycle of using those turned undead to assist the living and then turning them into another of his servants slowly growing his ranks of helpers. But, the necromancer never used his powers for evil, instead using them to the benefit of the village and its people. He was a mysterious figure and those who had dealings with him saw him as a kind and gentle soul, a far cry from the terrifying rumors of dark magic. In time, he became something of a protector to the village and its people, even helping to prevent disasters and calamities whenever possible. It was a strange relationship, but one that worked to the benefit of all. The necromancer was respected, feared, and always remembered.

The villagers believed that he had the power to protect them and that he used it for their benefit; the kind deeds of the necromancer were never forgotten and his legend grew with each passing generation. He was the source of endless speculation and conversation, with many stories and rumors surrounding his life and actions. It seemed that no matter how much time had passed, his presence and influence was still felt in the village; he had become a part of the very fabric of the community. In time, it became a tradition to honor him with a yearly festival, held on the day of his birth. It was a time for the people of the village to come together and celebrate his life and deeds. Local artisans crafted special decorations, festive music filled the air, and people gathered to share stories and memories of the necromancer. It was a time of joy and remembrance, of celebration and reflection. On this special day, the villagers believed that the necromancer would be watching over them, continuing to protect and guide them in their lives, but these celebrations only caused to draw ire from other factions who saw the necromancer's defiance against death as a front to the higher powers and a challenge to their own gods.

These factions sought to put an end to this annual festival and the supposed "immortal being" who defied the very laws of the gods and disturbed the established natural order of life and death. The factions would gather and form a Holy Crusade to bring about the end of this festival and the necromancer. The Holy Crusade was made up of the most devout and powerful believers some even holding divine power a power known to be detrimental to the darkness or death magick. They would surround the village and the necromancer and tear out this evil from its roots. The divine power allowed them to slip through any barriers and fortifications the necromancer could construct and it tore the magick keeping the souls tied to the mortal plane. The necromancer eventually gave himself over to those heading the Holy Crusade and only asked that they leave the villagers unharmed, but his only request was denied as they believed the villagers must also pay for their sins of conspiring with the necromancer and using the evil practices.

The villagers were horrified at the sight of their beloved protector being taken away in chains and could only watch as the necromancer's powers were stripped away, leaving him a shell of the powerful being he once was. Their protector gone and them left powerless at the whims of the holy crusade. One by one they were either decapitated or burned by the crusaders who justified their actions as those driven by the gods. As each villager was slain and their souls released resentment grew. After so many years of death magick residing in this place the souls of those who lived in it were strengthened by it. And as each villager died there souls collected and began to affect the mortal plane once more, but unlike with the necromancer that was able to guide them and allow them to keep their sanity and clarity they were left alone and filled with resentment. All their souls merging into a single entity that despised the crusaders and everything they stood for. It devoured those that took their lives and absorbed them into its own essence. The village now destroyed and decrepit will always be theirs and under their protection and rule, never will an outsider dare to set foot in this place again.