Vistigial Necromancer

The Vistigial did not begin as villains. They began as scholars of endings. Long before Nethrial took its present shape, there were priests and arcanists who studied the thin veil between life and death. They believed that death was not an end but a doorway. In those early days, they worked in tombs and battlefields, preserving the fallen, speaking with spirits, guiding lost souls toward rest. Their knowledge was feared but respected. Then came the war. When the Baroness raised the Order of the Crimson Veil to purge necromantic corruption, the Vistigial fractured. Some retreated into secrecy. Others hardened their beliefs. They began to argue that death was not sacred, but useful. That memory could be extracted. That flesh could be repurposed. That devotion, faith, and even resolve could be weaponized.By the time the curse shattered the heart and Nethrial was born, the Vistigial had already changed. They no longer sought balance. They sought permanence. They believe decay is the truest state of existence, and that only by mastering it can the world be preserved. They do not see themselves as destroyers. They see themselves as archivists of what the living are too weak to keep.

Each Vistigial wears layered blackened armor over deep purple robes, the color of mourning that has lasted too long. Their cloaks are not ceremonial. They are stitched with ward-thread and etched with sigils that pulse faintly in green-blue light. The glow is not flame. It is memory being burned slowly. Their faces are hidden beneath shadowed hoods. No eyes show. Only twin points of cold emerald light hover in darkness. Those lights do not blink. They narrow when angered. Bone motifs are not decoration. They are trophies and tools. Skulls hang at their belts, not as symbols of cruelty but as anchors. Each skull contains a bound whisper. Some hold battlefield commands. Others contain final prayers.They carry slender wands carved from grave-wood or femur bone, tipped with crystal shards that flicker with necrotic resonance. These wands do not hurl fire. They unmake vitality. They sever soul from flesh with quiet precision. Their armor bears glowing runes, often carved directly into metal, filled with ash ink and sealed with blood. The runes hum faintly when near strong emotion. Devotion, grief, regret. Those are their fuel.They walk calmly through mist and battlefield alike. Where they pass, the air grows cold, but not chaotic. Controlled. Intentional. A Vistigial necromancer does not scream incantations. They whisper. And the dead listen.