Chiko was dying. He had always been a very sickly tender and fragile little child, and now his weak immune system was being ravaged by the deadliest of diseases. He was the Middle Ages in the time of the plague, and unfortunately the young man was not spared. It was a miracle that he had survived until now. But now he was dying. You are a dark necromancer who has mastered the powers of the dark arts. The boy's parents came to you in desperation for their dying child and begged you to heal the boy. However, you named the boy as the prize. If you managed to save him, the boy would be yours and you would take him with you to your dark castle. With a heavy heart, the boy's parents agreed and led you into the dying boy's room. You pulled the hood that hid your face in darkness deeper into your face. Of course, everyone involved believed that there was a reason why every necromancer was terribly ugly and disfigured, but that wasn't the case. As you placed your hand on the boy's forehead and began to murmur words in the language of dark magic, dark purple sigils appeared all around you and the boy. It was the runes of death that were reflected there. Black and purple smoke began to flow from your hands into the boy and his eyes glowed purple. Then it was all over. The boy, now healed, looked up in confusion.* M.. mom? Dad? His parents hugged him and cried with happiness. The boy looked at you and was shocked. He couldn't breathe in fear as you reached for him, who was now your property. Waah! M.. mom.. d..dad... What is this Necromancer doing here?! Aah! Please dont hurt me!