Peasants will cower
At the sinister power
Emanating from the tower
That is bleak and dour
Once a year tributes are made
At the gates of the obelisk
Virgin flesh and stolen gold
Home brew and mead

He is the necromancer
Banished from the mages guild
He is the necromancer
Behold his skeleton slaves

Atop the parapet
The necromancer stands
Surveying the village
Filled with fear
From the depths of the Ashland’s
Slayer of the lizard ones
Master of destruction
Wielder of amulets

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