Memento Mori - Necromancer staff’s head

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Legend They came at dusk, when the mist clung low to the broken stones of the necropolis. Robed cultists drifted forward, their forms wavering at the edges, as if unwilling to rema in whole. Behind them advanced two heavier figures, armored shapes fused with something not meant to wear steel. At their center walked a warlock, his presence bending the air with a quiet wrongness. The Cult of the Awakened had come not for the dead, but for what was sealed beneath them, deep beneath stone and bone, where the Sealed Heart of the Penitent lay powerful and uncorrupted... yet. At the mouth of the crypt, the necromancer stood alone. The dead behind him had not yet risen. Memento Mori crowned his staff, the skull of Saint Morcant the Still facing the oncoming tide, hollow and silent. He began the rite. Bone answered. One by one, skeletal forms tore free from the earth and took their place before him, forming a fragile line between the living and what sought to unmake them. Then the first clash came. Whispers spread, stone softened, shadows bent. The necromancer answered with measured words, forcing form where none wished to remain as bone met warped steel. The eldritch warriors pressed forward, slow and unstoppable. The line faltered. The warlock advanced. And doubt returned. Not fear of death or destruction. But from the only fear left. Failure. Again. The necromancer raised the staff. The skull turned, not by motion, but by presence, and its empty gaze met his own. The world fell away. A man kneeling upon cold stone. Armor cast aside. Hands open. Waiting. Saint Morcant. Before the fall. No struggle. No resistance. Hope. Hope of redemption. When the world returned, the skull’s eyes burned with a pale, steady fire. The necromancer moved without haste, without doubt. The ground hardened beneath him. The dead rose again, not in frenzy, but in perfect accord. The line held. Still, the cult pressed. Then, at last, a step resounded. Heavy. Certain. From the ranks of the dead emerged a figure in blackened armor, blade low and terrible. The Death Knight had come. One eldritch warrior advanced to meet him, towering and unyielding. Dark steel struck corrupted iron. Finally, a powerful strike of unholy strength split the eldritch warrior in two in a geyser of ichor. The cult faltered. The warlock recoiled. The advance collapsed. The necromancer lowered the staff. The flame within the skull dimmed, but did not fade. Behind him, the crypt endured. Memento Mori had spoken. Not in words. But in truth. Workshop The old orc was advancing towards the stone altar to undergo the ritual of Paukukaumn that would secure him a prominent place with Shurkul in the other world. After taking his place on the altar, he waited for the village shaman to come. Everyone knew that he should not be disturbed in his hut even if he was late so as not to attract his wrath but after a while, he finally got out and walked towards the altar ...… He walked with a straight staff adorned with a skull, but not just any. This skull was, according to legend, that of the first human encountered by orcas in the history of their existence. According to the same legend, it was the skull of a ukorceras (or wizards as humans call them). This conferred visions and powers on the shaman. Character This add-on for the staff adds the perfect touch for a shaman or sorcerer practicing the arts of necromancy or voodoo and is sure to add a primitive or savage touch that complements the staff of any individual from a primitive civilization. Characteristics Weight (g): 550 Length (cm): 19 Width (cm): 15 Height (cm): 21 Circumference (cm): 56 Material: Calimacil Foam *Staff sold separately. Show more