Roses of Barfunweltz

After his previous defeat at the paws of Krittix Leyshaper, Lord Elohiim had vanished into the shadows of Ulgu. The Gravelord had now been absent for weeks. This was not unusual, for the brooding Vengorian was prone to wild mood swings and would often seek solitude in his more melancholic intervals. Nonetheless, Viktor Bract was acutely conscious that his Lord's absence had left him in a difficult - and therefore dangerous - position: Should he now obey the King of Thorns and risk the disapproval of a vampire, or disobey the skeletal lord standing before him and risk the ire of a Wight King? Ever the coward, the old necromancer chose to shy from the more immediate threat (and trust to sycophancy to inveigle himself back into Elohiim's favour should the need arise). And so he uttered the incantations and scattered the Shyishian grave-dust and a few moments later a wight stood glowering before him, tattered red robes fluttering in an absent wind. "Who dares summon me?" ...