Stories of Hemenster

Being alone is never fun. Especially if you're a ghost. Like me. You see, I am Dancus Frumac, but you, reader, my refer to me as "Dan". I am a veteran of the Economy war, a worldwide disaster that nearly destroyed humanity 2 months ago. I got involved, and got killed. Since then, my allies and I have gone our separate ways. I live in Varrock, but I have no neighbors. In fact, my whole street is deserted because they're convinced my cottage is haunted. But, that's life as a ghost. But I don't like it. and I am going to put an end to this misery I've endured. I'm going to find some way to bring myself to life. Well, re-life I guess.

"How's it comin', Rai?" yelled a man to his apprentice.

"I can't get that rat to reanimate, Master," a girl, seemingly in hers 20's replied, "Let's face it. I stink at necromancy!"

"Now don't say that Raiah, you're still learning. I had trouble at first, too."

"Well this isn't at first, it's been 12 whole years since you took me under your wing and-"

"And I could just as easily kick you out. Now, continue to practice. You'll never be a master like me unless you practice like a madman," said the Master. He left Raiah to her work as he left the room. Entering his parlor, he stared out the window and out to Lake Hemenster. How he loved living in the little fishing village. It's so remote, he didn't have to worry a bit about the hunters who angle at witches and necromancers. In fact, that made him think a bit. In the past two months none of his Zamorakian friends had been arrested like usual on a daily basis. But he had work. A huge cauldron of reanimation potion was stewing in his basement. And on that note, he went to attend to it.