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The mad king reigns in blood, enslaving the people of his world using his merciless armies and the odious magics of his undead servant, the evil wizard Valdaimon. He has transformed the land into a charnel house in which the centuries-old covenant protecting human and elf has been brutally and irreparably shattered.
There is only one desperate hope for deleverance from the darkness and devastation caused by his maniacal quest for domination. The mortal thief, Bagsby and the elf-mage Shulana seek the aid of the most fabled and terrible of enemies in order to cleanse a corrupted world with purifying DRAGONFIRE!
CURSE OF THE DEAD!
The crowd cheered as the soldier’s head rolled into the street. Bagsby turned to acknowledge the cheers, then noticed that the body atop him had not collapsed. It remained rigid, still pinning him to the ground. Bagsby pushed upward with all his strength, and the headless corpse tumbled over on its side.
“All idiots who desire death will be pleasantly served,” Bagsby crowed.
The laughter from the crowd suddenly died out.
Bagsby spun in time to see the decapitated body, now standing, grasp its severed head by the hair, lift the half-rotted trophy up, and set it atop its neck.
“Bagsby,” the thing wheezed, “you will die.”