| Belboz the Fell.
Here was a man who was rumored to have the ability to smite his enemies with lightning, or slowly drain their vital essences for his hideous experiments. Even the walk up Mount Cicatrice was marked with death's heads, skulls. Yet here he was, serving them wine out of a rather simple earthenware pitcher. Just moments before, he had brought them rather ordinary but nourishing bread, and some cheese. It seemed to be the same fare he himself ate, which gave a strange air of kindliness to this odd bearded man draped in occult trappings before them. Taking a seat at the simple wooden table with the rest of them, Belboz spoke. "So, what brings ye to my hut?" "Frederigo did not explain?" Astra asked. The necromancer looked nervous for a moment, and then responded, "no, he didn't I'm afraid." Astra began to explain, "There is a curse upon me, tied to the Dragon. I know not of what it entails, for I had thought I was rid of his influence. Then, recently, one of his minions spoke an incantation, and I felt the curse jump within me again. It got me to thinking, you see. The dragon had said the curse was somehow connected to the alignment of heavenly bodies..." Belboz murmured, "I see, well..."
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