The story of Heinrich Pfifferling, the great Trufflekin Necromancer, was all but forgotten after he met his grisly end.  

Now, for those who haven’t met a Trufflekin, they are the strangest type of beast-plant-thing you’ve ever seen.  Standing the size of a man, from afar you just might mistake a trufflekin for the world’s largest mushroom — but approach and you’ll discover you were quite mistaken, for biting or licking a trufflekin is quite unpleasant for everyone involved.  You’ll have to trust me on this.  Where was I?  Ah yes, the trufflekin.  Heinrich Pfifferling was a trufflekin necromancer of great power, or, he was, until he was reduced to a 6 inch, immoveable trinket.

He was snatched up by his very own defiant creation, the frost construct Hrim, until Hrim himself was slain at the hands of another of Heinrich’s creations, the undead abomination Clarence.  Hrim, and with him Heinrich, laid immobile, thought dead, in part of the wreckage of the Old Watchtower.

In the fifty years that passed, The Old Watchtower was feared for what it was, a terrifying tomb. Centuries later, its halls were still haunted and cursed.  It was the site where the evil goddess Morrigan, a tempestuous hurricane of evil; touched the world again.  Since that time, the tower has remained virtually untouched by mortal hands, though even with Morrigan’s defeat, her tempest at that site has never ceased.  Neither man nor beast feel comfortable exploring the remains, and yet time changes all things.  The earth groans and realigns, somewhere an underground river forms where there was none.  Construct corpse and the curious Trufflekin trinket each slipped into the sea.  

None can say how Heinrich reawakened, was it the wily, wicked will of the the Crone-Goddess Morrigan within that watchtower?  Perhaps some unknown unction unwittingly applied under the waves that began unravelling his bindings at sea?  Or had Heinrich been completely coherent, coercing wave and wind to wash his figurine far away, biding his time until the right moment?  Fortune or otherwise had him wash upon the shores of the Genevian Highlands, where a wandering merchant found himself a hypnotizing artifact, the very lifelike statue of a trufflekin wizard.  This merchant fetched a high price at the Castle DunMaden, where a young prince fancied playing pretend with great warriors and foul beasts.  

Set fifty years after the events of Mullenstone, The Scourge of Heinrich began on the Blasket Island within Barrier Bay.  The players suddenly awakened as now-sentient toy miniatures (constructs) in a toy chest, brought to life by none other than the trufflekin Heinrich, who had been sold as a toy, but was actually much more sinister as he began to reawaken.  Drew the Druid, Whiskers the Pirate Fighter, Rikkard the Ranger, Philandrious the Paladin and Moon-Sau the monk explored the castle, collecting discarded trinkets of power in the floorboards and slaying spiders and rats along the way.  
The toys grew in size and were magickly disguised to appear as a pack of cats and they explored more of the castle.  They watched the lord’s son, Earl Oisin, be whisked away as a great storm gathered in the distance, which was fortunate because he would be the last inhabitant to make it off the island.  The toys explored bedroom and basement, continuing their search for powerful artifacts and knowledge for their master.  In the family’s mausoleum in the basement, Heinrich challenged his constructs to fight a gauntlet of undead he began raising.  The noise drew the attention of guards, of the lord of the home himself, Lord Brandon, none survived the onslaught.  Whatever shackles that had bound Heinrich had been released and that is where the prologue ends.