The dead, the largest population of Lori-el for each day the dead grows in number. War leaves plenty of dead and poverty and famine adds to the number.
Each day people die, and each day the dead grows.
A sage well renowned for his talents of life magic, a combination of many elements, was found dead one morning. Even though he spent his life healing people, curing them of their illnesses, and bringing them back to LIFE...no one mourned his death.
He wasn't a sage for no reason, he ensured that even in death he would continue to live and he did a test to see if anyone truly appreciated his talents. And he was angered after finding out that no one truly did.
Cursing the world of the living he performed a forbidden spell, one that caused terror to the world of Lori-el many, many years ago. He reworked the speed to fit his magic and cast the speed before his souls washed away.
N̵̨̛̳̺̮̙̜̥̔̓̈́͐͠o̷̝̩̼̼̓̆̌͗̉̌̋̄̕ ̷̨͇͖̟̖͆̀́̊̈̕͘͜͝l̷̛̛̠̣͋̽̈́̉͑̌ơ̶̧̡͕̜̖͇̫͓̒̽̀̐͋͜ṅ̶͎̻͝g̶̡̨̻̾e̴̟̔͊̉̀̎̈́͝r̵̛̬̬̪͎͙̫̲̫̹̍̓̌̅̽͌̓̚̚ͅ ̴̯̹͈̓ͅḍ̴̢̏ǒ̶̧̢͚͇̠̭̹̖ ̶̛̉̓̀́̒̆̇̕͘͜Ị̶͕͌̈́̄̃͆ͅ ̶̢̧̩̯͈̀̇͂̈́f̵̪̐̓͑͌͘͝i̵͓̦̹̱͇̒̋̎͊n̷̞̬̻̭̻̬͐̄͛̓͗̚d̵̳̮̤̗̅̈́͂͊̃͘͝ ̴̨̱̱͍̘̇͊t̷̡̛̛͈̯͚̐̉͆͑̐͗͝h̵̢̫̮̗̼̼̯̯̘̋̏̃͗̔́̕ȩ̸̜̊̃̈͑͝ ̵̩̹̞̇̔͝l̸̤̰͓̱̾̈́̊̄̇̊͘i̶̫̖̽́́̓͐̉̋̔̈́͆v̴̢̘͇͍̻͓̯̼̙́̈́ì̴̛̦̹̾̈́́͆̍͒̀͠ǹ̴̛̘̤͓͈̆͌̈́̓ḡ̸̢͔̜̞̲̗͆̓̋̆͒̋ͅ ̷̨̨̢͈̳͙̌̊͌̈̊͌̒͘w̷̘̠̤̯̫̹̪̘̅͆͐̀̾̈́̅͜ọ̴̧̬̆̔̋̽̀̂̈́ͅr̴̠̟̫̦͇̟͚͔͍͗͂̒̑̃͗̉̉̏̈ͅţ̵̨͇̭̇̊̉̓͆̕͘ḩ̶̢̛̫͈̯̯͓̼̟̆̂̂́̐y̴̜̏̏̓̈́̆͑!̴̥̫͙̜͌̎̋̏̕
̵̛̦̿̀̀̈́̈́͘
Dark clouds gathered above his resting ground, pitch-black lighting struck the surrounding area, and one the size of a tree trunk struck his body.
Slowly his hand broke through the soil above his and shortly after his body. The skin and meat along his body slowly rotted and in some places, crystal bones could be seen.
Using a bit of magic he disguised his body and kept it from rotting any further.
Within his body, two types of magic constantly clashed, death, so strong that it formed a mist around him that killed any life in the surrounding area, and life, so rich and energizing that life constantly grew around him to be killed by the mist.
With a step in the direction towards to city of his resting ground, a race that is feared by all was born. With anger and hatred now clouding his judgment the city before him fell in a matter of seconds.
A sage is someone at the top of the world, so when he stopped trying to control his chaotic mana the miasma around him expanded to the surrounding city, it even continued well past the city and enveloping the entirety of the plains that surrounded the city.
Within his mist the races died, unable to fight back the miasma that forced into any opening into their body. It rotted their bodies until only skeletons were left spawned across the ground of the city and surrounding villages.
After a bit of chanting the souls of those dead started to burn with Erie gray flames within their chests acting like a heart. Their eyes burned with grey flames and allowed them to look around in confusion before kneeling in the direction of the sage, scratch that Death Sage.