Just something I ended up writing for the necromancer when I was bored:
Osbidan Frenhur was once considered one of the most devoted and powerful protectors of the king. It was likely that if any of the kingdom’s people were still alive, they would mock how horrible of a failure he was. It was painful for Osbidan to awaken, to be forced to gaze upon the now-empty town square, to realize that his fellow guardsmen would never take up their posts with him. What he figured was decades ago, a relentless plague took out the entire kingdom.
Osbidan was born the son of a mighty champion and a gifted alchemist. He was taught well at the professions of both his parents, but when the king had personally asked for him as a guardsman, Osbidan found it impossible to refuse. And the king could not have asked for a better man. As the kingdom gained more and more power, their neighboring kingdoms hoped to wipe them out. Osbidan was more than a match for any assassins that made their way into the king’s throne room, and proved to be an excellent assassin himself.
It was a state of relative peace in the kingdom, with it being so powerful that no others would dare to question its authority. The plague came out of nowhere. It was as if in one day, everybody in the kingdom simply died. Osbidan still vividly remembered the king choking and dying, falling from his throne, begging for the aid that Osbidan could not give him.
Osbidan seemed to be cursed with being the only one who seemed to survive the plague, and he decided to fall back to his alchemy and hoped to learn of how to revive his dead people. He found in an old tome the ways through which he could revive his people. Only after he applied this effect to the corpse of a peasant, did he realize that only the body was reanimated, and not the person themselves. He had failed his kingdom yet again.
The years he spent trying to find a way to truly revive his people seemed hopeless; one experiment had been so terrible that he gained the ability to sprout wings. He felt it was his duty to the kingdom to bring it back to life, no matter what the cost. As he dwelled upon his sorrows, a hooded man then approached Osbidan.
“It is such a shame that nature took this kingdom, wouldn’t you agree?” said the hooded man.
“Nature is indeed very cruel. State your name, stranger.”
“I am simply a man who wishes to see this kingdom restored, but has no idea how he could possibly do it alone.”
“Then perhaps this man needs the aid of one of the kingdom’s former protectors.”
Perhaps I can save the king, after all, thought Osbidan.