"How I became the one sent to Fiachnalis when master caught wind of the peasant rebellion that broke out there, was mere happenstance. At that time I happened to be at the north, near the border, on a little vacation, when master suddenly contacted me and asked me to go present his offer to the villagers of Fiachnalis, and aid them should they accept it.

It was a little annoying to have to cut off a vacation in the middle, but what the master asks for, he shall receive. To my knowledge, this was not the first time he had done something like this, and in the last century alone, two villages near the border had rebelled against their overlords and taken master's offer to be his people instead.

Those two villages chose peace, however, and thus did not help contribute to the master's wish to see if the oppressed villagers would have dared to fight with their lives on the line for freedom or not. Fiachnalis proved to be different, and what started as a short, urgent mission ended up becoming a life long stay.

I do not regret any of the decisions I made there of course, neither falling in love with and marrying a certain shy village boy, nor to live with him for the rest of my life. Our three lovely children had brought joy to my life that I never thought I would experience, and now that the end neared… I am happy to say that I had no regrets in my life.

Aideen, should you be reading this, and I know you would, please have the kids sent over to master. He would know how to care for them best after I'm gone. Be not saddened at my passing, child, for I had a good life, full of fulfillment.

With love,

Aoife Mac Lir." - Final Entry in the diary of Aoife Mac Lir, circa 61 VA.

Fiachnalis village, south-western Junora, third day of the first week of the fifth month, year 0 VA.

The past few days had been an ordeal like no other to Theodin. First he had to bury his beloved daughter on that fateful day. By the time her brothers had reached her, she had been far beyond saving, which had just incensed Theodin all the more when he learned of it.

On the other hand, the necromancer's body had been left to rot and feed the dogs in the square. None of the villagers wanted to as much as touch it, fearing a curse or worse to come. The necromancer masters were not known to employ discretion when their wrath was provoked.

And that very last known fact, meant that when he had bashed the necromancer's skull in during his rage, Theodin had cast the die for the village. For better or worse, they were all together in this now, and the past few days the elder people in the village had convened and talked with him on what they should do.

Surprisingly, quite a few of the elders had thanked him. They had similar experiences to him in their past, but had not dared to act, and could only swallow their grief and anger. Theodin's act of rage, had indirectly channeled their long festering grief and anger along, and for that they thanked him.

A few others had scolded his actions, for while they understood well why he did what he did, he still endangered the lives of everyone in the village by doing so. That was precisely what they feared. Necromancers had ways to detect whether others under them were alive or not, and these past few days the villagers had been discussing their options.

In effect, there were only two options open to them at all. One was to gather all their belongings and valuables that could be easily transported, and make a break for the border, praying that the neighboring nation of Ptolodecca would be willing to accept them.

The other option open to them… was to risk everything, and fight. Everyone present knew that such a course would most likely lead to their deaths, and nothing else, but many - especially those whose daughters had been chosen the previous years, or those who had family members inducted to thralldom - had stated since they had reached the point of no return anyway, they would rather die than trade one owner for another.

Many of the younger generations in the village had unsurprisingly favored the option to fight, as youthful and hot blooded as they were. His own sons, both still grieving their lost sister, were among them, and the days they took deliberating, slowly but surely reduced the options they had.

That night, Theodin returned to his residence accompanied by his two sons - they had taken only relatively minor injuries, courtesy to their robust, youthful bodies and Theodin murdering the necromancer before he could increase the power of his spell - and opened the door tiredly after another day of deliberation.

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And they found an uninvited guest in their house.

Seated with legs atop each other on the rough chair by their dinner table, facing the entrance, was a hooded, cloaked woman - even her loose black robes had not hidden the womanly curves of her body - who glanced up when Theodin and his sons entered the house.

They were just about to raise their voices and yell for help when the woman placed a finger on her lips, a gesture for silence, and Theodin and his sons complied. They had no other choice, really, as wickedly sharp blades of bones were suddenly poised right by their throats.

When the woman gestured for them to come in and close the door, he obliged her, and looked on nervously as Ciarran closed the door behind him. The woman then told them to take a seat, and they did so, his sons to the sides, while he seated himself right across from the woman.

Perhaps it was just coincidence since that seat always faced the door, but the seat the woman sat on was Aideen's usual seat.

"You must be wondering why I'm here, in your house," said the woman. Her voice was far younger and more melodic than he expected, considering her black robes practically declared her status as a necromancer. "Rest assured that I mean you and yours no harm, so don't be stupid and shout or something, please. Dó has itchy legs."

As if to emphasize her point, the bone blades - now that he had a closer look at them, they resembled spikes more - materialized out of nowhere, still near their throats, but no longer directly pointed at it, before they vanished into thin air once more. So Theodin nodded.

"That's good. I like people who listen," said the woman as she raised her hands and lowered the hood of her cloak. The face that greeted Theodin and his sons was far, far younger - and prettier - than he expected. He thought the woman should be close to twenty at most, and he did not miss the looks of surprise and fascination on his sons' faces. "Call me Aoife. I have come here to bring you, or rather, your village, an offer from my master."

"And who might this master of yours be, miss Aoife?" Asked Theodin in return once he gathered his courage.

"I guess it's a bit much to ask villagers to recognize the emblem," muttered the young woman while she looked sadly at the emblem pinned on her left chest. "But to answer your question, my master's name is Nec Aarin. You would probably know him, as the Bone Lord of Ptolodecca."

Theodin and his sons gasped at that revelation. Even as mere villagers in Junora, they had heard stories of the Bone Lord of Ptolodecca, supposedly the greatest necromancer of all time, the only known lich in existence.

"And… What would such an esteemed figure want with us? We are but poor villagers, undeserving of his gaze," he said in return after he gathered himself.

"You have courage. My master appreciates those who have the courage to rage against the establishment that had ground them down for so long, and thus, he bid me to go here, and offer you two options," said the woman, now with a slight smile on her face.

"And what might these two options entail… if I may ask?" Replied Theodin with trepidation, and yet with some hope in his heart of hearts.

"You can choose to go beneath my master's protections. Your village wouldn't be the first such case, and should I make it known that my master claimed you and yours, I doubt anyone would make things difficult for you while you migrated," said the woman. The idea was sound, probably the best option for them to take… and yet, what Orwen said during the meeting, that death would be preferable to finding a new collar to wear, echoed in Theodin's mind.

"And the second option?" He asked, his voice firmer by now.

"You fight," stated Aoife simply, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Should you choose this route, my master pledged his support, of arms and rations, and his word that should you succeed to win your freedom, he will not lay a hand on your nation, lest you lay a hand on his first. Note, however, that whether you succeed or fail is entirely up to you. Master would provide aid until you could stand on your own feet, but no further. Whether freedom will be a prize for you to cherish, or a rope to hang yourself on, will depend on yourself."

Left unspoken was the third option that she could just leave them alone to their fate, whatever it may be, yet everyone in the room had enough brains to perceive that.

"I do not want to rush you, but I do suggest you to decide quickly. A junior necromancer from Gestoven has already embarked this way with a punitive force of fifty thralls, and would reach here in… two hours or thereabouts."

"So soon!?" Shouted Theodin in surprise. Fortunately the woman understood his surprise and did not have him skewered by those invisible bone spikes. "Are there anything we could do against them?"

"On your own? You could die fighting I guess. There's barely any proper weapon in this village, and those thralls were well armed and armored. Add the necromancer and I would say the chances of your village getting out of it is minimal."

Another minute of rumination was all Theodin afforded himself before he looked at the woman, nay, Aoife, straight in the eye, and nodded grimly.

"Then we accept your master's offer," he said with a firm tone that hid deep seated anger underneath. "We will fight."

"An admirable choice," replied the woman. "Gather those you trust the most, no more than twenty, and meet me in the woods to the west of the village within the hour. I will await your arrival there."

Half an hour later, Theodin, together with his two sons, Orwen the village smith, Garrett the lumberjack, as well as the elders that had been most vocal about fighting, went into the woods and soon sighted Aoife again.

This time she was seated on the back of a massive skeletal monstrosity, a wolf like monster easily as tall as an adult's chest at the shoulder, made from a myriad of interlocking pieces of bone, whose appearance alone caused fear and trepidation to spread amongst the villagers.

"Don't be afraid," said Aoife from the beast's back. She then tossed a ring to the villagers, which Theodin caught despite nearly letting it fall. "Haon won't bite, unless I tell him to. Time is running short. There's weapons and armor in that ring, so arm yourselves while we walk. Follow me now."

True to her words, inside the ring were all kinds of weapons. Cudgels, axes, spears, as well as a few shields and sets of leather armor. The small group hastily armed themselves as they followed behind Aoife, who led them to a small copse of trees that was close to the main road.

"The necromancer will pass this way soon. I will handle the thralls for you as a sign of goodwill, but the necromancer himself, you will have to deal with on your own," said Aoife as she looked the villagers in the eye. "Think of it as a show of resolve, if you will. That you truly dare to fight for your freedoms at all costs. That you are worth the investment."

"So I ask you all one last time. Are you all ready and willing to die if you must for this?"

To Theodin's pride, none of the villagers balked at the challenge before them.