Necronius

## Summary

Necronius is a Black aligned planeswalker from Trezzuritag. An ancient necromancer once staked in a bog and magically enchained, the waning power of his aging guardian, The Caretaker, allows him to return to wreak havoc on the world. Necronius' plan is ultimately to ascend to a position of pseudo godhood by absorbing the souls of all sentient beings via a ritual to pull them into a vortex he can draw power from. Necronius manages to outwit and outmatch many who oppose him, including fellow planeswalker Maddox, but is eventually defeated once again by a renewed version of The Caretaker who had taken control of the Soulstorm Incarnate.

## History

Approximately 500 years ago, two ambitious adventurers, bored with quests, sought more inventive ways to increase their stature. The two were close companions and after some discussion agreed to study the art of magical resurrection to increase their usefulness to society, despite the obvious taboo on these sorts of practices. Knowing the likely public response to their actions, the two conducted their work in secret. One of the adventurers had very slow progress, being able to resurrect only very small creatures who died with most of their body intact, via a long and arduous process. However, the creatures he returned to life functioned more or less entirely normally. The other was able to resurrect larger creatures, many of whom had lost various body parts, with far greater speed. However, these creatures were usually mentally affected in some way and always died soon after being raised.

Eventually, their work came to the attention of the local village. The work of the first adventurer was regarded with much suspicion, but after a heartfelt explanation and a successful returning of a villager's recently deceased kitten, the villagers praised him as a miracle worker. The second adventurer, prideful and eager to be seen as his equal, insisted on showing the village his work, despite the protestations of the first. He managed to raise the body of the village's old wise man, only for the revenant to moan in pain as his flesh failed to re-knit itself properly. After a terrifying half minute, the zombie made a dash for a nearby child, only for it to disintegrate just a second before catastrophe.

As you can imagine, the village was not best pleased with this turn of events, and chased the necromancer out. His companion followed, out of a sense of concern for his friend and a feeling of responsibility. But it was too late. His friend, inflicted with jealousy and feelings of victimization, told him never to see him again, and he wandered off into the great swamp nearby, leaving the healer to return to the village.

For several months, the healer acted as a respected figure in the village, with people coming from far and wide to see him. Although his powers grew, he never once attempted to bring a dead human back to life, citing what had happened when it had been tried before. Instead, he used his growing knowledge of medicine to treat diseases and wounds before the victim had passed. Then, one night at dusk, his old friend, the necromancer, returned. In tow with him were about forty or so zombies. They were physically in better shape than the ones he had raised before, but their minds were just as broken. The necromancer proclaimed to the village that these were the corpses of all the bandits in the area that he had killed and raised, leaving some preserved in the bog if he needed to raise them later. He asked if the village would appreciate him now.

The village was flabbergasted, but did not perceive good intentions, and neither did the healer. After refusing to leave, saying he was the regions savior, the necromancer grew angry. It is unknown who struck first, but a battle ensued. After an intense battle, the zombies were all destroyed with the healer's help, but many villagers died in battle, and many more were afflicted with diseases and terrible wounds that not even the healer could cure. During the carnage, the necromancer escaped.

Several days later, the healer had done all he could. He had saved some, but many were beyond saving. The remaining survivors of the village, few as they were, decided to form a caravan and leave for the nearest town, which was about five days away. The healer knew that the necromancer could strike at any moment, and could well finish off the people heading to safety. With this in mind, he tracked down the necromancer to his base of operations in the middle of the swamp. Calling him out for a duel, the necromancer ambushed him astride a Necrotic Bogbeast, but the healer was able to use his art to destroy it. After a fierce duel, the healer eventually managed to impale the necromancer with three enchanted stakes. These stakes stopped the necromancers heart and slowed his mind to a crawl, but they were imbued with healing magic so that he could never actually die of old age while they were in place. Despite their conflict, the healer couldn't bring himself to kill his old friend. Instead, he dumped the body into the swamp so it would be preserved, and resolved to guard his erstwhile companion until he could find a cure for his condition. This also made sure his remains couldn't be raised by an evil mage as he wasn't actually dead. The healer's vast skills ensured that he himself had a very extended lifespan, so he was able to hone his craft and keep vigil for almost 500 years. He never gave up hope on finding a cure for his ward's condition, although after about a century, he stopped looking himself, as he had exhausted all his options. He stood guard and hoped for someone to deliver him the answer.

500 years later, the healer was growing old, not only physically, but mentally. He had gained immense knowledge and magical powers, but his increasing age meant that his memory was failing him. Indeed, the magic he had placed on the stakes 500 years ago was closely tied to him, and although it was a simple spell requiring very little subconscious thought, his mind began to forget it in its entirety. As the spell slipped, the necromancers' mind sped up. The necromancer came to realizing that he was in a state of unlife that would very quickly end if he did not do something about it, as while his skin and bones were preserved, his vital organs were not. As essentially a zombie, the necromancer commanded his own body to reanimate. After half a millennia in stasis, his memory was hazy and he did not know of the state of the world. He pulled himself from his ancient grave, and left the area, wandering mostly aimlessly deeper into the swamp. It would be weeks before The Caretaker knew he was gone, and months before he did something.