Chapter 1

I don't mind if my skull ends up on a shelf as long as it's got my name on it.
- Debby Harry

A Note From Catrina “Trina” Marie Allegri, Registered Necromancer, 7th Level

Necromancers get a bad rep sometimes. Okay, all the time, but it’s all because of circumstantial episodes throughout history where a Necromancer just happened to be doing something bad and someone else happened to witness it and be in the position to tell others about it. Oral history is one thing, but when one of those happenstance bystanders coincidentally owns a printing press you can just forget about any positive reinforcement of the art getting headlines.

Yes, it’s an art. Necromancy has a long and storied place in the annals of Adjacent History. Wherever there were kings, queens, world wars, inventions, innovations, revolutions, and rebellions you can bet good money on a Necromancer being close by. We’re often called upon for the Aftermath, mostly cleanup, but there are many practitioners of note who offered their services to turn the tide in favor of one side or the other. Were there bad apples? Of course, but as the prophetic ensemble known as the Osmonds once said: “One bad apple don’t spoil the whole bunch, girl.” Obviously being sibyls of pop music doesn’t require proper grammar.

So, yes, Necromancers don’t exactly drum up visions of rainbows, candy canes, and gumdrops raining from the sky, but we’re not all doom and gloom goths lurking around cemeteries waiting for fresh corpses to fill the ranks of our zombie armies either. For one it’s a terrible waste of time and energy. For two it’s just gross, so gross.

Okay, glad we cleared that up. I’d hate for you to come into this account with any prejudices about the art right before the story proper starts. It’s bad enough competing with the cultural accepted depiction of my profession in video games, RPG’s, and every aspect of the fantasy genre, so when I tell you that I’m sneaking into an Italian catacomb to find the skull of the first Necromancer in my family, you’ll at east give me the benefit of the doubt, right?

Right.

I’m trusting you, Dear Reader.

Ever Yours,

Trina

P.S. That thing I said you should give me the benefit of the doubt on? That’s about to happen.