Nighttime, Cryptovier Crispp, a necromancer, enjoying endless afterlife researching, his time no more limited, and Skullius the Boneflower, a warm gentle heart he wears on a piece of golden chain still wet and beating underneath his ribs, check out graveyards in search for all the necessary ingredients they need for work. While mr. Crispp is focused on a buzzing swarm of ideas overwhelming his mind, believing the life itself is needed only for your bones to grow up to their full size, and for your soul to become strong enough for moving further, Skullius keeps on grieving for all who passed away, even if they come back as undeads like his colleague and himself. He declaims melancholic songs and desperate self-penned poetry all the way he drives his squeaky wagon - and sometimes it’s quite annoying. That’s all because of the heart, Cryptovier knows, yet he keeps it in secret even from himself that the heart was used to beat in his own chest, all his lifetime, until he decided he needs a loyal assistant who’d be with him forever and a day.
