At first no one noticed the Island on the lake - nor paid any attention to the gnarly pretense of a Man who drifted onto it, sitting astride a wooden log with a huge grimoire on his lap employing a shovel as his unlikely paddle. A ghastly green mist soon shrouded the Island, wrapping it in a ghostly Silence pierced only by a maniacal laughter and some intermittent curses. Then, one moonlit night, an impossibly crooked tower emerged high above the mist, casting a long and dark shadow on the surrounding land the necromancer had arrived!.