The Moons Betrayal

Quothey, Cracked Lute Approaches you. A surly look on his face, eyes downcast. The music he plays feels as bright as a sunrise. Brids seem to chrip along to his song. His red hair sways with his steps and his words ring true.

A song of death and woe. Speaking of the Holy Resistance. Their learning of a new temple the necrodom sought to build. The soldiers lost, the Temple never found.

Soon after the moon did turn. Like an eclipse of the soul. Undeath became its lights purpose. The moonlight turns the dead into the enemy. Keep wary an safe an bury your dead. Or they might just come back to kill a friend.