I see multiple silhouette’s of the Discarnate encamped around me trying to gain my attention like a stranded motorist alone in the dark I can hear the muffled screams saying the necromancer is in and ready to hear us they come to me because most of the living population fear us words that they wish they had said to long lost love ones some don’t even no there gone but they come bearing there secrets that they took to there graves some ill mannered and some well behaved. The night has come and outside of my window pane theres a dark moon and stormy rain but I am fearless in the presence of many  I could turn a deaf ear an ignore them if they don’t abide by my creed so then they get fluster and leave. The one’s with manners they take there turns and speak with great reverence telling me things that which is hidden sometimes from centuries pasted they are attracted to me like fly’s on a dead piece of rotting flesh a necromancer is all ways closer to death. So when i’m out and about they follow me all ways ready to speak so I never really ever sleep. In my world there are portals and other dimensions beyond the comprehension of mundane folk. The life of a necromancer