It seems the afterlife of an undead lord is spend constantly seeing off rightouse vandals who think their doing the world a favor by desecrating thousands of years of research and and marvles of necromatic architecture.  In my early days, so to speak, i housed myself and my libary in a dusty crypt benith the dead city that had become known as Yurel,  "ghost tooth" in the native toung and barley a year went by that some church or another didnt send an expidition to "cleanse the land" as they put it, of my presence.  Their boldness and arrogence insulted me in those early years..  to see these humans in their metel skins proudly marching through my home, shouting curses at me and thinking themselves invunerable becaurse they bear the likness of some minor diety.  I took pleasure in showing them the error of their faith and then sending them back into the outside world, reborn, that they might teach others. 

The mortals in the nearby towns eventually came to fear me, it was not what i had wanted, but it bread respect,  and respect after all was all i had wanted..  apreciation that eons of study and a small army could not be overcome with a few swords.  people as a group apauled me..  but free thinking, sensible individuals, i adored.

A tribe of ghouls had taken up residance in the city of Yurel lead by a sensible individual that i named Gibberling for his habbit of repeating himself when he was nervouse.  he was often nervouse which i suppose is why he lived so long, and also why i iked him.   the ghouls kept many of the preists away from my crypt and acted as my hands in the world above in exchange for my favrs and protection.  one might say they considered me a god..  and where i a god i would have considered myself lucky to have  such a sensible faithful.

I awoke one afternoon not long after the sun must have set to the sound of swordplay not two floors above methis upset me becaurse i had only a few skeletal servants who weilded swords and if intruders had made it to them then they must already have plundered or destroyed my displayroom of ainchent Gith artworks,  once more i cursed thoughtless human vandalism and clambered out of my coffinit had been some years since i had last moved and i must have looked a funny sighttrying to navigate the floor with two feet and two arms but somehow i made it to the scryingn pool and summoned an image of my lair.  as i had suspected the top two floors of my crypt had been compleatly ransacked and above in the cathedreal two dozen ghouls lay dismembered or compleatly destoryed..  had i any bodily fluid at this point the scene might have brought a tear to my eye accept for the tell tale trace of human casualty..  Gibberling would not have fought if he did not think he could not have taken blood and indeed amist the gore i could pick out atleast 2 falen churchmen..  their holy insignia torn from their neaks and their bodies hevily mutilated.  as i probed lower i saw that another of the intruders had fallen to the mumified ones who had sought my sanctuary when their resting place was despoiled..  again i felt greatly indebuted that ones so sleepy would awaken to help scare away intruders that had come to destroy my work, i skipped straight ahead to where the interlopers where fighting..  4 of them remained..  3 young ones in armour and cloth..  paladins..  i had no paitence for these creatures..  the fourth however heald my gaze..  an elderly man with wisdom in his eyes..  a scholar ,..  a historian perhaps..  i gasp of anguish escaped my lips as i saw him touch his torch to a table of necromatic parchment recovered from Thazx Ixiak..  a perversion of human socity that i woudl avenge..  i released my hold over the remaining skeletal dragoons still able to fight and they colapsed..  the younger ones looked relived having been hard pressed and exahsted but the old one knew the truth of it..  that i was awake atlast and likly watching them.
 "weve missed the sunlight,..  i can sense the darkness even as i can feel the beasts gaze..."  i closed the connection..   not even in my life did i have time for human pratteling..   pretty words for entertainment is a gift squandered.

i awoke Manfreid from his chamber..  thinner now than last time i had seen him but withered rasps of flesh and cloth still clung to him,  i bid him to hide my treasures as best he could within the complex and bring me a wrath portal..  he regarded me with intelegence ive to this day neevr seen in a zombie and went abuot the task.  the whole process of defending my crypt saddened me and for a moment i regretted not employing some lesser fiend to run security in the upper levels..  but intelegence let loose in immortal form for too long most often goes mad or to sleep and i dare not have an insane naunt so close to my books..  asleep or otherwise..

after a moment conversing with my dearest Cassandra who had in this era built a nest in the sewers of far off claimport, i called to the newly dead in the city of Yurel..  i surprised me how violent a responce i got..  gibberling's tirbe had killed many as civlization sought to claim farmland in the area..  within minutes a thousand angry zombies where wriggeling in their shallow graves.  these monsters could hardly move let alone fight..  but would prove distraction enough to delay the mortals.  next i called to the long dead..  skeletons whos spirits had long since left this planeand forgotton their breif lives..   it was these creatures i was most fond of..  and them of me, it seems for infront of me materialized 6 ratteling, bleached white beuatys..  they ran with almost automatic inteleegence towards the humans and i called again.   the humans died and the old one i hung from one leg to the ceiling and let him prattle at me untill he began bleeding from the toung and the blood drained from him