That den belonged to a necromancer, who had been expelled from the nearby town for his bad arts. Listening to the rumors, Slorm learned that the witch would probably be dead, since the town had not known anything about him for a long time.
Slorm advanced through that cave full of creature remains, with nothing interesting to pick up ...
In the third room, a group of zombies approached Slorm slowly. The fight started and the zombies were falling little by little ... but when it seemed that the horde had fallen, a light emerged from the end of the cave, cutting out the shadow of the necromancer, who raised the zombies again, who attacked again , with more violence.
Slorm feeling weakened by the monotonous chants of the necromancer, he noticed how the claws of the zombies began to dig into his arms, tearing his skin .. in that moment he realized that there was not much else to do there, so he decided to run away from that hell of death, and come back when I was ready to face that black magic.
A few minutes later, his heart almost in his mouth, he dropped into the tavern, as he ordered a jug of wine and cursed his arrogance ...
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