The year is 1420. There was a young man named Keith Kniffen. He was a simple peasant, living a life of farming and stuff. He was off fetching water from the river from his family when he saw a strange sight, a bumbling skeleton. He hid in a bush and watched the skeleton. The skeleton did nothing for a while, but Keith watched, waiting. This was the craziest thing he had seen in his lifetime. Finally, the skeleton did something. Or rather, it finally stopped doing anything. Its bones crumpled to the ground, and from them, a glow erupted from the cold, dead bones. The glow went… somewhere. Keith didn't know where, and so he followed it. He followed it through the woods, up to a tower, where he saw an old looking necromancer. The necromancer said "Oh, thank [Deity people worshiped in 1420] you came. I raised that skeleton to gain the attention of some passerby, and thankfully you came.". Keith was perplexed. So many things he thought impossible were proving to be possible. He told himself "Okay Keith. This isn't a bad dream, it's Thorsday, and you're in the tower of a crazy man who can make skeletons move.". "Well, are you ready to help me?" said the necromancer, growing impatient with Keith. "O-oh, yes sir, what do you require?" "I need you to take that sword and stab me. Stab me good." "Wait, what? I'm not comfortable with this." "Just do it boy. Don't worry, I won't mind." Keith grabbed the sword and did as the necromancer requested. He felt a strange feeling surging through his body. He felt… powerful. He quickly realized that when he killed the necromancer, he gained his powers. He tried raising the necromancer as a zombie, to no avail. He shrugged it off, and continued his day. He grabbed the water for his family, and went home, albeit hours late. His dad, Jacob Kniffen, noticed Keith's lateness. He scolded Keith, and asked him what took him so long. He calmly replied to his father's question "Just gettin' that water dad!". "Heh, sure. Go to bed, we already ate dinner." Keith got no dinner that night, but while he was starving in bed, he swore that he would be the one to serve his father's last dinner. The main course he had planned? Revenge, served cold. It's best that way after all.