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"You can speak, and you are clearly a mage, yet you rend our drones down to fleshy scrap. Are you, perhaps, still living?" He strode toward the pair in a graceful motion, like that of a crane wading in the shallow waters of the soaked earth. Threatening to hold them in place, the damp ground lightly tugged on their boots. With his neck at a crooked angle, he seemed to gaze through the tight fold that should've rendered him blind and straight at Annette. "Yes, yes you are. Then perhaps you came, young mage, to learn our way." He stopped and held out a pale hand, and with it, she swore she felt the earth slither under her feet, almost as if recoiling from the motion. Corvus brought his left leg back, assuming a defensive position. "Or perhaps," he rolled his head to face a dismembered Miasmic crawling legless toward him, "You came to learn your place."
The pair find an old necromancer calling himself the "Watchman" just off the shores. After asserting her desires not to become a necromancer, he challenges Annette and Corvus, using Miasma-infested blood as a way to control the earth around them.
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