“But as they bare their cotton flesh, they release a nostalgic scent. A scent of expensive cologne, of fresh soil, and of decay.”
Nell didn't grow up the way most boys do, gaining shameful curves in the wrong places. Wondering what his mentor would think of him now, he finds that shame turns into something else.
“He misses the Vulture King more than anyone. But he just doesn't have the knack for it. Maybe he never did.”
The Vulture King was a powerful necromancer, and the army he was raising had the townsfolk terrified. Before he could put his schemes to action, he died of old age. Now, a single apprentice lives in what's left of his manse.