Cyrus Lokee, necromancer absurdum

[barrelfullomonkeys]

The air thickens with a hideous odour; it clogs your nostrils, it almost paralyze anyone in adjacent area. Closer and closer, a neverendending chatter of nonsense, maniac laughter and hystirical shouts can be heard; it echoes back and forth among the trees in Cloakwood...
When the fog cleares, a grey dressed man - approx. in his 40's, with unkept skin and hair, obviously smells like rot and never let his voice down, appears.
He call himself Cyrus - no one have ever heard of this man along the Sword Coast before; with limited powers, he summons the dead to his command, swing his staff and release horror upon his foes...

[barrelfullomonkeys]

"Twas many days ago, when the Moon stood high, We were following our agenda - merely making any disturbance! Suddenly, two holy-goodies approached us!
They blasphemed our way of living, even our child! Our pretty child... so young... [it continues for 4 pages, crude drawings of necrophiliac art, death, words of magicks, dominance... - with short poems, romantic descriptions of necrophilia. Always refering to himself as "We" - sometimes "I", "my child", "father" - clearly, these pages are written by someone whos very ill - or perhaps truly evil.]
the the text reads:"We challenged the foul beats to a duel! Only to be kept back with a strict leash! Like a dog! Arro! Voff!" [simplistic drawings of a dog held by a leash by two humanoids]...

"we will avenge, yes yes!"

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