Doctor Raven is a spectral arbiter of life and death, worshipped by desperate parents who whisper his name in the dark. To those grieving lost children, he offers the cruel comfort of guiding their souls to the afterlife—or so they believe. To parents of the living, he promises protection, binding their children’s fate to hidden pacts written in their own blood. Neither group knows the truth: their prayers are transactions. Two-thirds of every soul he harvests are funneled to Lukano, a lich whose empire of rot and silence stretches unseen across the world. The remaining third lingers in Doctor Raven’s talons, fueling his ascent into something neither alive nor dead, but something far hungrier.

He is Lukano’s scalpel, excising threats before they can fester. His warlocks—often former mourners twisted by grief or ambition—serve as his eyes and blades. They infiltrate kingdoms as healers, scholars, or confessors, identifying those who might unravel Lukano’s designs: adventurers who delve too deep into necrotic ruins, clerics who trace disappearances to the lich’s domains, or rebels who resist the slow sickness seeping into their lands. When targets are marked, Doctor Raven comes himself, descending with the quiet of a shadow and the precision of a surgeon. His victims are left as hollowed corpses, souls neatly extracted for his master’s hoard.

Yet Doctor Raven is no mere servant. He hoards secrets like Lukano hoards souls, and the lich’s name is just one of many etched into his bones. Doctor Raven was once Dr. William "Doc" Porter, a man who built dreams from fossil and steel. As the owner of Prehistoric Gardens, he crafted a kingdom of roaring dinosaurs and wide-eyed wonder—until ruin took it all. The loss of his park was a blow, but the death of his adopted son shattered him. In his grief, he clawed at the edges of death itself, striking a bargain with a devil to resurrect the boy. What returned was a hollow mimicry, a shadow wearing his son’s face. The devil’s price left Doc Porter a hollow thing too, his humanity flayed away stitch by stitch.

Lukano found him there: a broken surgeon of souls, perfect for his designs. The lich offered a new contract—freedom from the devil’s leash, dominion over his own coven of warlocks, and the right to keep a fraction of every soul he harvested. In exchange, Doctor Raven would serve as Lukano’s reaper, culling those who might expose the lich’s empire. Parents praying for their children’s safety became his unwitting contractors; mourners of the dead his recruiters. Two-thirds of every soul he carved out went to Lukano’s hoard. The rest, he siphoned into himself, their screams stitched into his wings.

Now, he walks the line between vengeance and surrender. Some say he still searches for a way to restore his son fully, scouring necropolises for forbidden magic. Others insist he’s given up, and that the boy’s shadow is just another puppet on his strings. But the warlocks who serve him know the truth: Doctor Raven’s grief has hardened into a blade, and one day, it will turn. Not toward Lukano—not yet—but toward the world that took everything from him.