Byrin fon Karr-Keel, the Mayor of Karr-Keel and the founder of the empire’s first and only chain restaurant, Ye Olde Combatte Burgers, loved his revels, and every year for his birthday threw the finest party in Mittelmark. He brought in players, musicians, and artists to entertain the townsfolk, and played host to no small number of merchants, wizards, and members of the local nobility. But, the absolute highlight of the Mayor's party was the confectionery produced by his chef, the genius behind the recipes that make Ye Olde Combatte Burgers a success, Fernand Pepin. And, the highest honor that could be given was a slice of the Mayor's birthday cake.

 

Now this was in days gone by, before the wasting of Karr-Keel and before the Mayor's eldest brother, Mikel, wore the dread title Necroburgher like a crown upon his head. Mikel, who was still early in his quest for immortality, was at the Mayor's 40th birthday party, a necessary guest out of familial duty but unwanted for his surly demeanor and already dark reputation. The revels bored Mikel, and the guests were all beneath him in his own mind, but the cake... A single slice of that heavenly cake would be worth all the time wasted mumbling pleasantries and putting up with jostling by the masses of humanity who could not properly appreciate his glory. Imagine then his rage when slice after slice of cake was served, and not a single slice of cake was presented to him.

 

The curse Mikel pronounced in that moment of fury was a thing of ancient darkness, and in an instant every person in Karr-Keel died, only to rise again as shambling corpses to play out the last day of their lives over and over in a rotting parody of the joy of the Mayor's last birthday party.

Photo by Brian Kirkell.