Arcanon’s past was a sorry tale. Abandoned as an infant in the streets of Kislev he had been picked up by a local orphanage. Bullied by the other boys, and even the girls due to his hunched back and stammer, Arcanon developed an intense hatred for his fellow man. The only solace he could find were in the pages of the books and ledgers in the orphanage library – not a large collection by any means, but one that Arcanon could devour in a dark corner in relative peace.

Once he was finally old enough to leave the orphanage, things continued to get worse for Arcanon. Work was unattainable, even though his mind was sharp. Potential employers spurned him, citing his disfigurement as a reason for him not being able to keep up with others. Although he knew the real reason was that none really liked him, he had heard the whispers behind his back for his entire life. And truth be told, he didn’t like them either.

And so it was that Arcanon came to live on the streets of Kislev, that was until the day when Count Krieger arrived in town. Of course Arcanon had no idea who he was at the time, but when he met his gaze he heard the voice in his head.

‘Do you want power, little one?’

Arcanon nodded his head before he could even think about what was happening.

‘Then follow me…’

Arcanon smiled at the memory. How long had it been since he had thought about those days? It had to have been eighty years at least. What had the great lord seen in him that day he wondered? What a stupid question, his vast potential of course.

He twisted his shoulders to the side so that he could see behind him, the stammer had long gone, but the twisted spine was a permanent feature. The shuffling horde was restless, they needed to feed. Turning forward again he outstretched a bony arm in front of him, knarled fingers grasped around a human skull.

‘Rise’, he intoned in a deep, thoroughly unnatural voice. An ethereal energy leaped from the eyes and mouth of the skull, penetrating into the graves directly in front of him. A few moments passed, and a skeletal hand punched through the earth at his feet.

A tiny smile touched the corners of Arcanon’s mouth, although it was gone in an instant. ‘Let’s go my pets, we have work to do.’