As a mortal, I was an exarch to the god Chronepsis and a monk. My god brainwashed me into thinking that undead are evil, and that they seek to avoid the balance. Even my god feared me. He saved me more than once from a permanent rest, and I have never forgiven him. My age was well past that of my people the dragonborn, and I lived and buried many wives and children, never once asking my god for them to be granted another life. As a man of many generations, I spread the faith and following of my god to thousands of people of all races and faiths. As my god demanded of me, I sought the families of those that had lost a loved one, especially those whose loved one became undead. Banishing undeath and comforting the living was my job for six thousand four hundred and twelve years.
Ironically, as I aged mentally, I wondered why Chronepsis brought me back from the edge of death as I tried to fell that Dracolich in my first life. I was a child that had lost my parents to an undead that feasted on their life essence and I would avenge them. But even a sixteen year old dragonborn, I would never be able to do so. It was become of he who returned me from my death in the stomach that gave me the strength to climb back up through the beastís belly and back to his jaws. It was surprised, and scared when I pried open its maw and jumped back out. The radiance Chronepsis shrouded me in was temporary, but it lasted long enough for the beast to know who I served and that his punishment would be swiftly coming. With the strength my savior provided me for this fight, I shattered the beastís lower jaw with a flurry of punches and I took a jagged piece of his bone from his jaw and swung it at the creatureís chest, exploding its heart and found its Phylactery hidden in its skull. The astral diamond it stored its soul in was one of the most valuable artifacts I had ever seen, but my god demanded that I throw the thing into a raging fire into the heart of a volcano, and then to return to my home and bury the corpses of my parents. I was a fool to follow his instructions, but I did and he let me be for some years while I practiced the arts of unarmed and unarmored combat out of respect for the situation against the lich and had established a family of my own.
My last death was my own doing when Chronepsis would not release me from my long servitude and grant me an eternal peace. My 6,412 years in his service would surpass the length of service any exarch had ever served without being elevated to godhood or dying a lasting death. And Faluzure was furious with me , enough to want to claim me for his own purposes. So they occupied Chronepsis with a great battle and sent back to me my first wife from the land of the dead and had her kill me. When I saw her, I knew her, and I welcomed her. Though she had been dead most of my existence, she still loved me. She knew the pain of loss I bore and she wept as she stabbed the poisoned dagger through my heart, killing me instantly. She mourned me and buried me so Faluzure couldnít take me, and she was returned to the land of the dead, her corpse just as it was the day I buried her.
And though she did everything to free me from life for eternity, my soul could not rest; not yet. I had a job to do. Four days after my burial, I rose from my dirt prison and embraced the corpse of my wife and reburied her. This time, I would be sure she would be forever dead. And to do that, I will become the god of death. Chronepsis, and Faluzure would have to die at my hands. The dead would be judged not on an arbitrary basis. The desire to live forever would not be viewed a crime of the soul; the desecration of other dead would be. Necromancy would be the crime; not simply being the living dead. I would grant the families of the dead that lived good lives a respite from their loss and return them to lie should the dead want it. I will not return to life those that were evil, nor those that seek an eternal rest. I will be the punisher of those that are resurrected against the deadís will. As a dead man, my view on life has changed. There is no evil in wanting to live forever. There is evil in many methods to live forever, but not the desire. Some people should live forever, such as the man that seeks to unravel all the mysteries of magic. I realize that I will never have the eternal rest I had hoped for only a few months ago, but now I shall serve a greater cause. I shall serve humanity, and not a arbitrary god. I will have no exarches; my will is so great that I shall do this myself. Should anyone assist me, I seek no worship. Know my demands.
1. Necromancy is the greatest evil. Practice of this black art will suffer the greatest of all my punishments. Stamp out necromancy wherever you find it, and bury the corpses of any animated dead you find.
2. Destroy any animated dead you find. Animated skeletons and corpses are to be buried and for doing so, your eternal afterlife will be rewarded. Should you find a corpse that is not buried, take the time to bury it. You never know whether your death will leave you in a similar state.
3. Do not kill vampires and revenants just for what they are. They were once alive like yourselves.
4. Respect the dead. That means bury a man as wishes, as long as you can reasonably afford the expense.
5. Grave robbing will be an offense I will punish you for at your judgment. Think twice before you defile a grave.
6. Comfort the grieving.
7. Honor your deceased kin. If you can, visit the grave, or seek the assistance of a spirit-caller. Do not forget the ones you loved. If you have no means to honor them, seek me, and I will let you speak to your lost kin.
8. Finally, enjoy life. It may not be your last, but experience all that you would because you might only get one.
I will be the only one to be able to free you from a life as a revenant should you come back against your will. Do not expect me to always be at your beck and call; I have had thousands of lifetimes and hundreds of families of my own to mourn.