To hide amongst the dead ...

~ Kaeleth slows to a walk, he can't help but let out a wry chuckle into the darkness, those so-called thieves were such amateurs if they had thought for even a second they could overpower him. He, however, knew better than to underestimate them. They had superior numbers and, since they had already tried to kill him once and failed, he was no longer as anonymous as he liked.

It had been a couple of days since he had seen the last signs of pursuit, they had fallen for his false trail and he could hide his tracks well, lucky for him. Still, where he was heading, he knew they wouldn't follow and, as long as he kept his prize safe, they wouldn't kill him. They had nothing to gain from it.

He looked around him, dressed all in black robes and with a light black travel cloak he seemed to be a shadow. He took a deep breath and raised his head, gauging his direction by the stars he could see, vaguely in the distance his keen eyes picked out his destination, the fabled necropolis with it's fabled curses and undead, perfect place to hide his 'treasure'.

As he approached, Kaeleth couldn't help but feel irritated by the silence, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched but, after a century of experience, he had learned to trust his instincts and his instincts were telling him that he wasn't welcome here. Nevertheless, he still stalked through the darkness, feet barely making a sound as they met the ground, his every sense alert. Superstition or not, it was always best to be prepared.

He picked his way through a mass of old graves and mausoleums, his ears picked up the occasional rustling but beyond that all was still silent. He saw a mausoleum that seemed a little less elegant than the rest and decided that here would be a good a place as any. As he approached the entrance he unsheathed a dagger and made three tiny scratches near the floor, not large enough to be noticeable and yet enough that he could find this mausoleum again.

Satisfied he stood and, sheathing the dagger, he stepped inside, rusty hinges creaking as he brushed against the door. As he had expected the inside of this mausoleum hadn't seen anything living for a long time, there were none of the tell-tale signs that people left behind, the most obvious of which was footprints. He looked around at the myriad alcoves and indirectly, so his own footprints would not lead directly to it, he headed round to an unobtrusive opening filled with candles. Slowly, he pulled a small wrapped item from a small shoulder hung bag hidden by his cloak and, careful to disturb nothing in the alcove, he placed it behind the candles. To ensure he could find it again, Kaeleth once again drew his dagger and scratched the same symbol into the corner of the alcove.

Eyeing the alcove one last time to ensure he had left no trace, Kaeleth turned and headed for a corner at the back of he mausoleum, behind a heavy stone crypt. Slowly he lowered himself to the floor, he could see the entrance but was hidden behind the crypt so if anybody did happen to wonder by, he wouldn't be seen. He was a thief, over-caution was in his nature.

He pulled his hood over his head to hide the light from his eyes and sat, he had some planning to do. Where would he go next? Surely by now the dead thieves would be common knowledge so a return to Meriddia would be unwise. He sat there, almost motionless, pondering his next step.~

=The caw of a raven, from outside the mausoleum breaks the silence. A long moment passes before the call is repeated, harsh and grating in the silence. The call is returned, and again, until it seems as if there are perhaps a score of ravens settled around the mausoleum, screaming. The darkness of the crypt seems to grow, and the air temperature drops steadly, until Kaeleth can see his breath steam into the air.

This lasts long moments, stretching on ominously into a cacophany of screeching birds and chill air.

Quietly, at first, a sound reaches Kaeleth's ears, from the from part of the mausoleum and the aloves he had just passed. Within his sight, he sees a stirrring within the occupied alcoves.

Slowly, deliberately, a half dozen skeletons, clothed in rags and some faint scraps of dessicated flesh pull themselves into their forms and stand in the room. They are not wielding weapons, and make no threatening gestures. As one, the grinning skulls open, and a voice echoes from their mouths, the same voice, multiplied, and underlaid with the sounds of whispering and the faint sounds of screams. It sounds as if a crowd is whispering, and among them, one voice dominates, a soft, quiet voice, with very little feeling.

"Welcome, Living One, to the Halls of Death. Welcome, and begone, for your kind are not welcome here." The jaws close, and the skeletons stand immobile, waiting. He would notice indeed that the sound of ravens had ceased, and the cold had grown.=

~Kaeleth raises himself to a half-crouch, ready to attack, defend or flee should the situation change even though, for now at least, the skeletons surrounding him seem benign. He knew all too well not to judge on appearances.

'What kind of fell sorcery is this?' His voice remains steady, though he doesn't move an inch. His eyes scan back and forth over the eerie scene before him, shadows dancing back and forth as the glow of his eyes passes over them. He exhales slowly, his breath clouding around him, muscles wanting to shiver but severe self-discipline holding them in check.

'You should know I am not so easily scared. Will you show yourself puppetmaster? As dramatic as this all is, it is pointless, and I am weary and in no mood for games.'

His voice is a near growl, devoid of mirth, and his body motionless, he waits~

=For a moment the skeletons remain motionless, then the jaws open again. "Fell sorcery, trespasser? Perhaps you'd care to wager your life against my sorcery? I am no pretender mage, and this is no parlor trick. I sup with death, lost one, and thus is my art born."

The unlit tapers in the room flicker to life, one by one, a pale grey-white light that gives no heat, nor burns the cobwebs attached to the candlebra. The skeletons part, three to each side of the doorway, and their mouths open again, the same hollow, layered voice whispering from them, heard more in kaeleth's mind than his ears, a disorienting sound.

"You wish me to reveal myself, lost one? A brave request from a man who has life but on my whims. Still, your bravado is amusing. I will grant your request."

As the last words are spoken, the door to the mausoleum opens, and a figure steps in. Hidden within dark robes, cowl shadowing the face, and hands tucked within the sleeves, it seems a shadow. there is no sound from it's movement, as it seems to drift into the room. As the figure passes the skeletons, they collapse upon themselves, reverting to unanimated piles of detritus. Standing before Kaeleth is a figure of undeterminate build, perhaps approaching six foot in height, but little else is able to be determined.slowly, one hand removes itself from a sleeve, a pale hand with delicate, dextrous fingers, and it gestures in a mocking welcome.

"Welcome, Lost One, to my realm."=

~As the skeletons retreat, Kaeleth relaxes and stands, hands never straying too far from his weapons... Trust is for the weak. As the door opens, he grins to himself, a small victory, and more than likely not the best move but he wanted to gauge this unknown adversary that is so intent on removing him from this desolate place.

As the shadowy figure entered, Kaeleth straightened his back, his athletic frame standing rigid, almost defiant.

'Well met puppet master,' he said, with a slight nod of the head in a display of respect as sincere as the shadowy figures welcome. He turns from his would-be host, appearing to examine his surroundings in this new light, exuding the appearance of calm while inside measuring up his opponent, and possible escape routes if necessary. His adversary obviously had magical skill of some sort, this worried Kaeleth though he would never let let it show.

'Such a gracious welcome to your, er, realm. I'd consider hiring better help however..' he paused, running a finger over a surface of an alcove and examining the dusty film coating the finger of his glove. 'The decor has obviously seen better days.'

He turned back to the other, watching for a reaction.~

:: As Kaeleth turns to scan his surroundings he would note a tall figure standing in the entrance. From head to toe he is clad in a silvered armor, mblazoned with a black dragon, the cloak over his shoulder is black and in his hand a sword of what appears to be highly polished silver is held at the ready ::

You would do well to speak to the Death Lord with more respect freind, lest he truly take offense and make you a puppet yourself. An act I would be more than glad to assist in.

:: The voice is calm, and well cultured, obviously from a noble, rather than the strange, distant sound of his master's. ::

::Claudia, pale and etheral in appearence stood behind her twin brother Xavier. Her Black hair fluttered a little and danced, and she held her head low but her eyes were cast upwards. The girl was young, around 18 years old, yet she looked far more mature for her years.

The shadows danced and whipped around her, death and souls creeped and ebbed like waves of the ocean. She didn't say a word, her eyes resting from Kaeleth to that of Master Damyn. Some could argue that she had a small smirk, but her face was always expressionless.::

~Kaeleth examines the two newcomers, rolling his eyes in a very exaggerated manner as Xavier speaks. He leans back, shoulder against the wall, half smile on his face.

'More puppets I assume? A little presumptuous aren't they, daring to speak for the fabled dead lord or whatever...' He tilts his head, observing them, looking for any kind of reaction.

He shruggs slightly, 'What exactly is it a dead lord does anyway?' Although his face doesn't show it, the curiosity is genuine. It is hard to adapt to a situation when you don't know all the players.~

=Damyn says nothing, nor does he move, a dark shadow in the pale light. He mind links Xavier and Claudia. "It seems our guest does not know his place here. Humble him, but do not kill him."

It was a way for him to see how his two apprenctices would act, and take measure of the stranger, and so he waited, patient as death.=

:: The heavily armored head nods::

I assume you have a plan for what we leave behind then...is he another test for us, or simply fuel for a later spell?

:: ML Claudia: "Bind him dear sister, the necromancer wants him alive, he did not say his soul had to remain in the shell." ::

=Damyn folds his hands in his sleeves, fingers wrapping around the carefully hidden stilletos in his sleevs, so he looks as if he had simply crossed his arms. "That depends entirely on his performance, and yours." Damyn takes a step back, to distance himself from what was to come, opening himself to the energies of the place around him, gathering it within himself in case he must make use of his magic=

~Kaeleth narrows his eyes as the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand, he gets the feeling of trouble, it's vague but present. He stops leaning on the wall, his every muscle alert for the attack he feels is inevitable. Normally he would relish in the thrill of a good fight but these people were unknowns and, as such, easily underestimated.

'So, not so much puppets, more like loyal pets.' He feigns a look of mock realisation. 'Like a puppy, only ... rabid.'

He knows mockery won't help his situation but he had never been one to let go, it had certainly got him in enough trouble in the past, why should this be any different?~

::Claudia frowns and cocks her head to one side. She carefully observed Kaeleth and wondered what he was trying to do. Listening to his insults, her eyebrow raised in particular to the rabid pets part. She could sense some fear or apprehension from him. Her senses reached out further, she was checking to see if he had other friends with him.

Master Damyn had given his commands, and she looked to Xavier as he made his suggestion. With a small, slow nod to both, Claudia stepped forward and raised her hands a little. She looked eerily enchanting, her milk white skin unnatural against her ebon straight hair, her dress floating. She walked with a glide rather than with steps.

She gathered her own magic, drawing it deep from within. Her eyes began to crackle, turning white completely as her body tensed. Her upturned palms faced towards Kaeleth and she began. He would start to feel the affects of dizzniness, and this would grow to a heavy feeling of weariness. His sight would flicker. Having done this many times before, she knew exactly what she was doing - attempting to pull his life force from him by absorbing it into an orb in her upturned hand. ::

~Kaeleth's eyes narrow as the feeling of dizziness starts to overcome him. So this was the way it was going to go. He shakes his head trying to clear it, reaching into a fold in his robes for a throwing knife.

He staggers, dropping the knife before he can do anything with it. His mind is racing, trying to fight off the magic but he isn't strong enough. He begins to shake with the effort, strength sapping from his body. The lights in his eyes begin to flare periodically as his vision is affected.

As his body weakens he falls to his knees, he barely catches himself, panting with the effort of holding himself up. Barely able to form words he growls out '...cowards...'~

=Damyn rests a hand lgihtly on Claudia's shoulder, nodding his approval as he steps beside her, He looks to Xavier. "A shame this one fell so easily, warrior. Hardly an exercise befitting either of your talents." He looks at Kaeleth, his face still blanketed in darkness. "Perhaps if you were looking fora direct confrontation you'd care to match blades against him?"

Stepping back, Damyn clasps his hands within his sleeves once more, caressing the hilts of the hidden poisoned stillettos within. "I grant, I am curious as to your presence. Not many would dare come here. So tell me, wanderer, why should we spare you, if we should spare you?"=

~Kaeleth weakly raises his head, still fighting to maintain control over his body, his strained eyes falling on the shadowy figure. He chuckles haltingly through his panting breaths.

Although his strength is failing him, and his speech is faltering, he still manages a forceful growl in his words. 'Go ... to ... hell .....'~

=Damyn watches impassively, gathering his own energy into his body until it can be felt around him, the cold coming once again. "Defiane in the face of death is not bravery, wanderer. It shows a marked lack of understanding of death, and an improper respect."

he takes a deep breath, the sound seemingly amplified with the screams of lost souls, creating a bond with Xavier and Claudia, enroaching on their energy and pulling it into himself. The temperature drops unbearably low then, frost settling over the stone and one Xavier's armor, steam rising from anything touch by human warmth.

"The propsect of an afterlife means little to those who are versed in the art." his voice is amplified loudly in the mausoleum, echoing with voices and screams, even though his singular, calm, quiet voice seems to echo in their minds. Lifting an arm, he gestures at Kaeleth, using magic to lift him from the floor to hover a few inches off the ground. "Your bravado smells of fear, wanderer."

he mindlinks CLaudia and Xavier. "Make a careful study of this." The words echo inside their heads for a moment, an odd quiet in the sudden storm of sound and energy, as Damyn draws a final burst of energy from them, not enough to completely weaken them, but enough to be felt dynamically in their bodies.

A roar fills the room, whether mental or physical, and the corpse-lit candles seem to flare and dance as Damyn focuses the energy into a single purpose, stepping closer to Kaeleth as he draws the floating body too him. Reaching out a hand he touches the center of kaeleth's chestforcing his will into him, and grasping his spirit's essence, wrapping it to his will. This would be a mental agony for the weakened man. Drawing his power towards the connection point, Damyn's hand simply clenches into a fist, tearing the spirit out of kaeleth.

For a moment, kaeleth would feel blinding pain, and then a detatched fuzziness in perception, the world viewed as a blur, as he would see his own body, floating, for a brief moment.

Xavier and Claudia would see a vaguely man-shaped outline of energy around Damyn's hand, and recongize it for what it was.

"There are worse things in this world than death."

His voice echoes in all of their minds, and Kaeleth would hear it clearly. The bond broken with the spirit, the body was a living shell, floating listlessly before Damyn and Kaeleth's disembodied spirit. He speaks to Xavier without looking back. "Kill the shell."=

:: Without hesitation Xavier slides his blade between the ribs of the incapacitated man, watching in silence as the body slumps forward onto the cold stone floor.::

A shame, he may have been useful, he at least had a bit of spirit in him.

((Hahaha. Nice one Xavier!))

=Damyn nods as Xavier ends the life in the shell, knowing Kaeleth would see the end of his body. Gathering the energy around him, Damyn reaches to the slumped form, touching it lgihtly, slamming the spirit back into it.

he ML's Claudia "Another lesson. Together we will bind him back to his body, a more free-willed undead. I will show you how. Use the energy you took from him."

Working quickly, Damyn focuses the energy to his will, creating a hook for Kaeleth's lifeforce in his body. he speaks to the disembodied spirit with magic, so only Kaeleth can hear. "For you arrogance, servitude, lost one."

he opens a channel for Claudia, between the both of them and the spirit, allowing her to feel the subtle turns and flows of how he is using his power to bind Kaeleth's spirit back into his own dead body.=

::Claudia released her grip of the soul the second that Xavier ran through Kaelaeth's body, instantly killing his form. She allowed her hand to drop to her side, and she tilted her head to look up at Damyn, curious of his next lesson.

Simply standing there and watching, she could feel Damyn draw up the energy, slamming Kaelaeth's soul back into his body. Interesting. She listened until the Master Necromancer addressed her in Mind Link. Looking to him, she nodded firmly, her hand raising as she upturned her palm towards Kaelaeth.

Closing her eyes and concentrating once again, she was pleased to be learning one of the most valuble lessons. She gave it everything she had, drawing vital energy to her hand and using every ounce that she had taken from Kaelaeth. She could feel the channel that Damyn had opened for her, and she made good use of it, mentally making note of how to repeat this lesson should she need to.

Claudia knew the power of returning Kaelaeth to his physical form wouldn't be easy, but not impossible either. She could see that Damyn was able to return the spirit of Kaelaeth back into his body and that soon he would return enough to his orignal form - or close enough - an intelligent form of undead. How...interesting. She was fascinated.::

=Damyn nods as Claudia joins him, not looking at her, allowing his own power to guide her through the steps to creating Kaeleth's new form. Pouring more energy into it, he forges the links between spirit and body, creating essentially a prison, though one motile. He addresses Kaeleth's spirit again. "You will learn, perhaps, to appreciate our gift. Or, you will suffer a long time under our control. The choice, wanderer, is entirely yours." With a last influx of energy, he guides Claudia into sealing the spiritual cage of the dead body, in essence bringing kaeleth back into his body, where he would experience a coldness and small numbness in his muscles.

As the last of the magic fades, he looks down at the bleeding body at his feet, and speaks, his voice echoing. "You are dead, lost one. Death is my domain. If you entertain thoughts of vengeance or betrayal, trust that I will know, and you will suffer. Servitude teaches humility. Success could earn you much, should you choose it."

He turns to Claudia. "You can use him if you must, to learn how they function. If he displeases you, remember he is a spirit, and pain can be a strong motivator to success. I trust you can establish the link to the spirit now; it is easier if you create them. Spiritual anguish is nothing compared to suffering of the body." He glances to Xavier. "He will not die either, if you'd perhaps care to spar against something that maintains reflexes and knowledge. He will not deny you, one way or another. And the priest can use him to practice the art of knitting flesh and bones, if he must. In turn, teach him as well. I don't want him committing insult to a troll or one of the high preists and getting torn apart. I will have duties for him as well, which will supercede your own."

He turns to Kaeleth, who by now would begin to regain feeling in his limbs and the ability to move. There would be a vague sense of pain from the sword wound in his chest, but oddly it would begin to fade. "Now why are you here, lost one? And please don't try to lie. I'll know, and that would displease me greatly."=

~It had been a surreal experience to watch his body die and to be powerless to stop it. As his spirit was returned to his body, his glowing white eyes flared and slowly the light faded until his eyes were pure black.

He groans as the sensations of having a body return. He shivers from the coldness in his muscles, feeling returning slowly to his newly reanimated body. Slowly he pulls himself into a sitting position, barely able to believe what has happened.

He faces Damyn, his cold, black eyes fixed on him, his face mirroring the hostility he currently feels.

'You kill me without provocation and you want me to co-operate. When they say 'make friends' they don't mean it literally!'

His voice is cold, the annoyed half growl returned.

'If you must know, I was running from some unfriendly types,' He pauses, he was told not to lie, and he is telling the truth. Some of it at least. 'I was already cursed, and I heard the rumours of this place. Cursed, haunted, figured it would be a good place to hide. Guess I was wrong.'~

=Damyn stares a long moment at kaeleth, until his gaze becomes unsettling. When he speaks, it is the usual quiet mental whisper laced with the screams and whispers of many voices. "Your desire to cooperate is meaningless now. The dead hold no secrets from me, nor do they long resist my will. You are worth more to me dead, but do not mistake that for true value to me, lost one. Look around you. The world is full of corpses. You, however, are being given the chance to be useful. Should that end, your torment will not for a long time. Remember, an eternity is a long time in which to suffer." He let the matter drop, as if that was all the necessary explanation.

He listens and nods. The information was not false. "I am pleased you did not attempt to lie to me. Why were you so pursued?" The question is clinical, a mere formality. He would rather have his answers freely than pry them forcefully from Kaeleth.=

~Kaeleth considers the question, he is testing the boundaries of this imposed control. He had always been a free spirit so to be bound this way to another was more torture than any harm that could befall him, or so he saw it.

He considers the question, wondering again just how much information to give.

'Suspicion always falls on a newcomer, and the thieves guild don't like when one of their own dies. I was double-crossed and couldn't let that stand. I don't take well to deception and trickery.'

He pauses, briefly.

'So am I a slave now? Another of your rabid pets, perhaps?' he asks scornfully~

=Damyn listens carefully. "Suspicion of a true act, I presume? You did kill the guild member. So you are a thief. A rather poor one, if you failed. That is a shame. I was hoping you'd have more to offer than second rate skills." His tone changes to near-amusement. "A thief that decries deception and trickery? A poor thief and a fool it seems."

He gestures languidly with one hand, an indifferent movement of the wrist. "I do not suggest you maintain a veil of half-truths. I too detest deception. Unlike you though, I don't have to stand for it. The story, all of it, or you will see the bounds of your new existence."

At Kaeleth's last question, the hands rolls at the wrist, palm up, the pale, dextrous fingers rolling in a defferntial turn. "Your status depends entirely on your behavior. I can treat you as a slave, if you wish."=