[voyd]

In the dead of the night.
While you rest with your families tuck safely into bed.
While your armies quarrel amongst themselves.
The damned are restless.

---

Even with the death of the Huntsman coming to be known as Mendras Undomiel, still there have been reported sitings of another bearing resemblance, one bearing the mask of the carcass of the moose, perhaps the one guilty of all that the Huntsman had been condemned of all along. Alongside such being noted, there have been more recent notings of several magus having suffered the attack of various ravenous creatures of fleshcrafting. None quite able to deduct where they were coming from, but several have come to make themselves known while some continue to remain within the shadows. One thing is for certain, the forbidden art of the Necromancer was coming to plague the realms once more. And seemingly at the helm of it all? The one known as Voyd, and the Lost Council with him. Wherever they have been operating from has been left to not other than smoke, having all afforded attempts at locating Voyd or his cohorts ending in empty hands, far too capable or remaining hidden away whilst allowing his legion of the damned to do his work for him from afar. From the darkness of the night do they come, and to the darkness do they return as well. But it is clear now that those who were once distanced to the ends of the earth have return to usher the dawn of a returning era, the Golden Ages of Necromancy. Such is known by the word now travelling that some hidden few are working to raise a bethel someplace unknown in regards to the open praise of the Pantheon Caius. Little can be known for certain, but to the trained magus, something in the air around Meranthe should certainly seem.. amiss.

†††

"Let not ye harbor safety, whilst the shadow of thyne death

 lurks only at your next turn. Let the presence of the Voyd one be known.

The beginning of the end is neigh."