A New Perspective

[DurinRustbeard]

The sound of Fourty fully armed and armored soldiers marching caused a general discordant noise of clanking metal and shifting chains. They marched with purpose and in each of the young men’s eyes shown a lust for battle. The blazing red of their cities emblem crested their shields and banners giving them each a measurement of pride. A nudge to his side brought Talon’s attention to the man marching on his left. After retracting his elbow the young man spoke in hushed tones. “They say it’s a band of those brutes from the north. It should be a cakewalk.” The boy, barely old enough to be called a man said with a wink and a flash of a grin. Talon responded with a wide grin and returned his attention to marching. It was quite clear he was eager for the battle to begin as well; it promised adventure, excitement and good sport.

That’s all that the barbarian incursions ever amounted to, and the commanders who had sent them out this morning assured them an easy victory so there was no reason for concern. The squad that had been assembled was a bit of a curiosity to Talon though… As he looked around it was all the youngest of the army, seemingly all placed in a singular battalion. Even their commanding officer was only a year or two older than Talon, who himself was about twenty. Perhaps wanting to get all of us some combat experience at once, he thought inwardly, glancing around at his fellow soldiers now with a more keen interest. As he was glancing about the horn in the forward column sounded. It was already time for the charge? But we’re barely a mile from the city… these barbarians must be simple minded indeed. He drew his sword and began to charge down the hill they had crested. The angle gave him an opportunity to see their quarry below. Perhaps fifteen or so.. Talon quickly estimated.

The barbarian group immediately began to retreat back north, leaving a cope of trees to their west, likely hoping to reach the craggy area some distance north. Talon thought it was a poor choice, but they were barbarians after all. The brigade kept its steady run, pursuing the fleeing group past the trees, and as the last of the columns passsed the trees, cries of alarm began to fill the air. “To the West!” the terrified voices screamed as arrows and crude spears flew out from the edge of the woods. A deafening roar sounded from that direction and a full host of barbarians wearing skins and furs, many of them bare-chested and covered in paint charged. Talon readied his sword as the fellow that was on his right caught a spear squarely in his chest. It was madness and the column broke in disarray. “Retreat!” many of the young men cried while the young sergeant tried to rally them. “Come back you cowards!” Talon shouted to the top of his lungs turning to see the majority of the forty soldiers fleeing back towards the hill they had just charged down.

The primitive warriors had already anticipated the retreat and flooded like a stream of black and brown along the side of the hill. There is no escape… and no hope of victory.. Talon thought, full of dismay as his brethren were being cut off and slain. Above the chaos he allowed something to catch his eye. There at the top of that hill stood a horse and a single rider, baring the same crimson that marked Talon as a member of the cities army. He was peering through a looking device, long and tubular Talon had once used the same tool for scouting. His thoughts clamored for a moment as the roar of battle buzzed around him. The cavalry?! His mind cheered and questioned all in the same moment. His eyes remained fixed on the man with the scouting device when a barbarians club landed brutally on his armored head. The blow was of such ferocity that even with the protection of his helmet Talons world went black.

[Urithrand]

The stench of steel hung in the air mingled with the faint odour of horses lending the only sign of life to the otherwise silent and still copse of trees. The air of tension was almost choking amongst the silently waiting warriors, hidden from sight and waiting, watching from the shadows as a group of soldiers topped a ridge less than a mile away. But the watchers were also being watched, though not subtley from the shadows, blatantly from within their own ranks, an elf stood amongst them, completely invisible to the naked eye, which luckily for him, was all they had to see with.

Despite the tense atmosphere surrounding the scene, the elf was completely unaffected by the nervous vibration and palpable apprehension through which he walked unseen, and he paced back and forth, impatiently waiting for something to happen. He recounted the battles in his head which he'd witnessed previously, and his mind strayed to the small collection of suitable body parts he had managed to harvest thus far, and he checked off on his fingers like a fish wife recounting her shopping list. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he completely missed the start of the battle, when the warriors surged forward screaming at the unsuspecting troupe that wandered into their midst. Deciding that this was probably a bad time to be debating the better qualities of youthful appendages over the scarred tissue of an aging soldier, he withdrew and waited for the combat to finish so he could go about his work.

It didn't take long. Much less time than the last fight he'd witnessed, these warriors he followed were brutal and deadly, much to his delight. He didn't have much use for destroyed and mangled corpses, he needed fresh, undamaged tissues to cut open, study, annotate and document. The sound of battle quickly faded, less than an hour it seemed before the brutal killers swept off into the distance, leaving what to most would seem a hellish scene. To Maieth Kerbrar it seemed like a very convenient market devoid of sellers but bulging with merchandise.

With the cold and practised ease of a necromancer, he began to hop around the battle scene hacking off limbs here and there, not bothering to check whether the bodies he took them from were alive or dead. He flicked open eyelids to check the organs within, and on occasion dug the wet orbs from their sockets and placed them into a large glass vial filled with pale green liquid, adding to his collection.

Just as he wrenched an arm from its torso, almost sending him flying off his feet, there was a sudden and definate groan from a few feet away. Someone was very much alive.

[DurinRustbeard]

The Aftermath

Pain on the top of his head throbbed relentlessly. Dragging a battered and muddy hand from his side, he slid off his dented helmet and gingerly touched the swollen and bleeding bump on his head. Mud was caked in his eyes and he then gently began to scrape the stubborn stuff away so that he could open his them without fear of being blinded. It was quiet now, except for the incessant ringing in his ears. “Well, well” a higher tenor voice said appraisingly, some distance off. Talon managed to open one of his eyes, and raise his head from the blood and dirt, mud to look in the direction of the voice. There, with his long robes curled up into something more resembling a skirt a bronze skinned elf stepped over the bodies to approach the stirring soldier. Talon groaned and tried to open his other eye, but found it was swollen shut. His body ached all over and it seemed as if an army had marched right across him while he lay there.

“And here I thought I was going to have to suffer this all alone!” the tenor voiced elf said cheerily as he came to a stop in front of the prone man. Talon’s vision was still blurred, but as he looked up at the elf he noted something odd propped over the elf’s shoulder. He blinked a few times as the elf cocked his head looking to the silent and battered man. Eventually his vision had cleared enough to see that it was…an Arm?! “Now then” the elf said looking intently to the human as he fished in a pocket of his robe for something. Talons one eye went wide, dumbfounded by the arm wielding elf’s seeming calm demeanor amidst such a bloodbath of soldiers. It’s got to be a dream, the young man’s mind cried, unable to make sense of any of it. “Ah! Here we are!” The elf chimed as his rutting fingers found hold of whatever it was he was digging for.

Talon forced himself over onto his back and coughed, sending a spattering of blood out from his broken mouth. His jaw screamed with pain as the fractured bone was jarred due to the cough. The gentle spray landed back on his face, some of it getting into his one good eye, and turning the whole world a hue of crimson. The elf made a clicking noise with his tongue “Tsk, tsk,tsk. And I had hoped to save this..” The elves words sounded muted now for some reason, but the ringing remained constant. A piece of curved and smooth glass touched Talons lips briefly before the long tube was forced into his mouth and into the back of his throat. Talon’s body began to spasm defensively as he tried to reject the tube from his mouth and throat. All he could do was gurgle as a bitter burning liquid began to slide down his throat. The elf stood quickly and slapped the young man across the face with the severed limb, its lifeless hand smacking his face as if it were some sort of fleshy club and narrowed his emerald eyes. “You try to bite me again and I’ll leave you in far worse pain than whatever it is you feel now.” The elf’s tenor voice took on a dangerous edge.

The man didn’t really listen to the words as his world began to spin and the burning liquid hit his belly. His many wounds and likely broken bones began to mend rapidly. He rolled to his side and gagged on the tube stuck in his throat as his body tried to dislodge it. The burning sensation poured throughout his body, and his swollen eye opened just as he began to retch. The tube slid out of this throat with the fluids of his stomach, blood, and bile. The burning began to subside, and although Talon ached all over he felt remarkably better than he had moments before. The elf above sighed; “Had you proven less Bitey I would have extracted the tube before you suffocated…” he seemed annoyed. “What happened..” Talon croaked as he raised his head gingerly to examine the battlefield.

“Well, I think you lost” the elf said in a pouting voice looking around at the soldiers scattered about. “But!” The elf began with a raised pitch to indicate the upside. “It appears you have avoided a similar fate!, And none too soon.” The elf continued in his strange upbeat tone. “I was afraid I would have to carry my belongings myself!” Talon groaned and forced himself to a sitting position, still looking around blankly to the battlefield, nearby lay the eager young warrior with a spear still protruding from his chest. The elf seemed to bore with the human’s lack of interaction and began wading amongst the bodies again, his eyes scanning for something. Talon came to a stance, his armor dented and mostly ruined under the feet of a marauding army. His expression remained that of pure disbelief, the young man was obviously in some short of shock. When he failed to spot any fallen horses he spoke “Where is the Calvary?” He said somewhat to himself. The elf was several feet away bent over examining a dismembered hand and casually tossed it away; he rose from his squat to stand with the severed arm still propped over his shoulder in such a manner that it reminded Talon of how he carried his great sword.

“Calvary?” The elf said in a questioning tone, but only hinting slightly at any real interest. “Yes.. I saw one of our soldiers mounted at the top of the hill.” Talon said in a beleaguered tone while he observed the bizarre elf. A moment passed. “Oh!” The elf said as if his memory caught hold to that tidbit. “Yes, the scout.. Oh he’s long gone.” The elf grunted as he pulled a leg free from what minute amount of flesh still held it to the body of a dead barbarian. He took a moment to examine the length of the hairy appendage before deftly tossing it to Talon. The man’s reflexes responded automatically catching the limb and he looked down to it, his eyes still glazed over, lost in shock. “So many questions I’m sure young one.. all in time” the elf said distantly as if speaking to no one, his eyes rummaging across the bodies strewn about.

Talon caught movement from his left and casually looked that way, still holding the severed hairy barbarian leg. To his right stood a rather decayed looking hairy brute, more rot than flesh. Talon smirked and almost chuckled, for the zombie carried an armload of dismembered parts and a couple heads staring lifelessly outward. The elf taking note of the humans recognition to the zombie stopped his searching and placed his nimble blood covered hands on his hips. “Oh, and that is Mort!” he said cheerily. Almost as if on cue, the zombie dumped its armload of parts and extended a decaying hand to Talon, grabbing the shocked man’s hand and giving it a courteous, but slow shake. The elf’s face took on a look of disappointment. “Must always be courteous mustn’t we Mort?” he sighed and nudged one of the heads that had tumbled to his foot. “I said no red heads!” The zombie groaned in response. Talon finally managed to blink. I must be dreaming the dumbfounded man thought.

[Urithrand]

As the sun began its slow descent into the depths of the horizon, the soldier's adrenaline seemed to be wearing off. He had followed his anonymous elven benefactor out of sheer desire to not be alone, and the elf had been happy to take advantage. He now seemed to be carrying a variety of limbs and appendages as though they were mere hunks of meat rather than bits of his dead friends. His eyes were heavy and his own limbs, still attached much to his gratification, were heavier still, causing him to trip and stumble over the occasional tree roots which seemed to reach up to snare him in passing. In contrast, the elf seemed perky as ever, moving gracefully and leaning on a staff, his bat familiar flapping cheerily around his head and his zombie, looking ever less healthy, stumbled along behind.

"Where are we going?" The soldier's parched throat finally gave way to sound. "What are all these bo... body parts for?" He looked as if he was finally realising what it was he carried, and his face was definately taking on a greenish tinge. Mai'eth turned impatiently.

"We are going to my laboratory. And the body parts are none of your concern!" He snapped the words probably slightly more aggressively than he'd intended, making the soldier recoil like a chastised infant. The elf looked at the man, and for the slightest hint of a second, a churning in his stomach. Was that pity he felt? Or was he merely sickened by the man's ignorance? The problem persisted for barely a moment before he lost interest in the man again and wandered off, leaving Talon to follow again in silence.

Several hours of walking, and the soldier was beginning to wonder if he would ever make it to this laboratory. His throat was dry, his eyes were blurring, his legs stumbled more than ever and he'd managed to bloody his knees and the heels of his hands repeatedly. When he dropped his armful of limbs, the elf gave him a harsh glare. "Be careful with those!" He growled. There was no aggression in his voice this time, even he was becoming bored with this trek. "We will stop here." In a motion that under any other circumstances would have been comical, the elf dropped to a sitting position precisely where he stood. "Mort! Gather wood." The zombie slowly went about its business, doing as it was told.

It took a surprisingly short time for the randomly chosen spot to start to look like a camp. The zombie was tireless, and since his master's order had not stopped, even for a moment, but continuously returned time and time again with armfulls of twigs and sticks, which the elf ignited with a snap of his fingers once there was a suitable pile. Still the zombie collected more and more, piling them still higher until there was a veritable blaze. "We will reach my laboratory in the morning, it is not much further." He pulled out several large chunks of fresh meat wrapped in cloths and tossed them unceremoniously onto the fire, poking them occasionally with his staff tip.

By the time Talon had removed his now completely useless armour, the meat was cooked and he ravenously snatched it when offered and tore off chunks like a wild animal, barely chewing before he swallowed. He didn't know what meat it was, but given the elf's appetites, he didn't stop to ask. He needed sustenance, that was all that mattered. He took the offered decanter of water with a measure more politeness and drained it in one gulp, before finally sitting back and allowing his eyes to close. Sleep took him.

The following morning, if anything was far more surreal than the previous day's occurrences. Mai'eth, dispite being rather psychopathic and extremely disturbing, was apparently an impeccable host, and a capable tailor. The soldier dared not wonder how he now found himself naked and sleeping comfortably in a bedroll, nor how his clothing, repaired and cleaned were folded neatly nearby. Eggs and some small rodents were cooking on the fire while Mort mechanically prodded the embers rhythmically. The elf, completely clean and immaculate was sitting nearby with his head planted firmly in a book. "There's a stream over there where you can wash. Don't you dare get those nice clean clothes dirty." He intoned expressionlessly, not so much as looking up. Talon shook his head in disbelief. What in the hells was happening to him?

[DurinRustbeard]

A Chlling Revelation

The stream was nearby just as the elf said but the naked man found it too shallow for a good soaking, but he would manage. The water was frigid but it proved valuable in washing the cobwebs from his mind. What by the Maimed God are you doing?! He screamed internally as the ice cold waters washed over him. He dismembers your comrades and raises the dead! Whatever purpose he has for these.. parts can’t be anything good. You should finish your bathing, get dressed and then escape when next possible. His mind continued to berate and question him as he went through the motions of cleaning the dirt from himself and rinsing out his wounds that he’d accumulated from the march. He had his mind made, he was going to escape this… elf and head back to… He paused to think a while, his actions ceasing. What will you go back to?

It was then that his mind began reliving those days prior as he first followed the elf up the hill to look down on his city below. He saw the smoke long before he saw his city, but as they crested the hill he saw that it was ablaze with barbarians flooding through the breeched gate, he was strangely without feeling at that moment. As the elf continued on westward Talon simply followed. The battle had already been lost. His mind went back from there, to the lone cavalryman on the hill with the spyglass. What was he doing? “By the Lord of Bones do you have a death wish?” a tenor voice broke his concentration and he quickly looked about spotting the elf standing nearby. “If you wanted to die there are better ways to go about it” the elf said impatiently with his arms crossed, his emerald eyes looking sharply at Talon.

Talon went to stand and he felt sharp pain course up through his feet and hands. “Gah!” he grunted as the numb extremities relayed their displeasure. His hands and feet were numb with cold… how long had he been sitting in that water? His teeth began to chatter as if his body suddenly became aware of how cold it was. Talon gingerly stepped out of the stream, pain coursing across his face with each numb step driving nails of discomfort into his limbs. The elf handed him the mended clothing and then turned to leave, having apparently said all he needed. “W..wait” Talon stammered as his jaw trembled and he began to dress. “T.t.tell me what happened at the battle.” He asked, his voice almost pleading. The elf turned to regard him, his emerald eyes still sparkling even in the overcast day’s light. “Come then.” Is the brief and neutral response that Talon received before the elf started back to camp.

Talon sat by the fire, and extended his pained hands and feet as close as he dare to try to drive the cold from his flesh. “I’ll answer your question with a question”, the elf said plainly, his eyes looking intensely into Talon’s pale blues. “When crossing a bog you must be careful where you step, else you will end up neck deep in filth. So what does any good bog wanderer do?” The elf spoke as if teasing slightly, his tenor voice inflecting high as he spoke the question. Talons face screwed up in confusion. “What?” he asked dumbly, as he didn’t understand the direction of the question. The elf smirked, thinking himself sly and he continued with a cheery voice as he grabbed a nearby twig placing the end into the top of his fisted left hand and his right index finger perched on the opposite end of the stick. “Why they use a stick!” he said while pushing the piece of wood down through the hollow of his fisted hand then pointedly snapping off the remainder that still protruded from the top.

Talon continued to look bewilderingly to the elf. “You were the stick!” the elf chided and tossed the bit of broken twig from his hand into the fire. Talon sat there a while; his face took on an appearance of inner thought. I was a stick being driven into a bog to judge its depth? What does he mean? Talon brought himself from his thoughts and looked to the elf. The lightly framed creature with tan features sat cross-legged and with his eyes closed, a small smirk lit his features. A bolt of thought struck through Talon’s mind as he prepared to pester the elf again. Wait… We.. we were the stick?, and the Barbarian trap was the bog… His thoughts trailed at that as he began to recount the brigade full of young blood. We were to draw them out so that the army could judge the barbarians numbers to better defend the city… His face was filled with a look of betrayal.

“They sacrificed those they thought expendable.” He murmured as he continued to think, looking deep into the flames of the fire. The elf sitting a few paces away opened his eyes and looked to the stunned soldier. “And a lot of good it did them, when the stick prodded the bog into swallowing them whole.” Talon slowly looked from the fire to the elf, the flames movements played out in the elf’s eyes. Escape back to what?.. It’s all gone, and all I was, was expendable. Talons thoughts haunted him as he looked at the elf and then back into the fire dancing nearby. He flinched when a log landed heavily into the fire. The elf looked narrowly at the decaying barbarian. “That will do for now.” He said, his tenor voice full of venom. The elf clicked his fingers and the walking corpse suddenly dropped where it stood. No longer a walking corpse, but merely a corpse, and none too fresh.

[Urithrand]

The rest of the improbable duo's journey passed quickly once the soldier was rested and clean, and more importantly he was then walking with an angry, silent strut. Mai'eth seemed almost oblivious to his presence by this point, though without his zombie friend Talon found himself carrying an armful of increasingly odorous decapitated appendages with a fixed scowl. He was not expecting it when they reached the necromancer's laboratory rather suddenly, and had he not been led there he would have walked directly past it. A curtain of dangling vines smothered a sheer rock-face in the centre of a thick forest, in front of which the necromancer came to an abrupt halt.

"At last." the elf purred, a satisfied smile spreading across his features. "You can drop those now." he added as an afterthought to the silent brooding man. Talon hesitated a moment before dropping the limbs he held in a pile on the floor, provoking a harsh scowl from the elf who was holding his staff at arm's length. With a suddenness that caused Talon to flinch unintentionally he slammed the metal-tipped staff onto the rock flooring, and the vines jumped to one side of their own accord, revealing a dark cave entrance behind, leading back into the natural wall. Without taking a moment's hesitation, he walked into the darkness and gestured for Talon to follow.

Having barely entered the eerie cave, flames leapt into life on either side causing the darkness to flee to the furthest reaches of the shockingly large abode. Mai'eth virtually ignored the soldier and went straight to a massive work table, covered with a white cloth which was stained almost entirely brown with dried and partly decayed blood. Laying on the table was a body. It would have appeared to be sleeping except for the bad state of decay that had set in. Mai'eth shook his head slowly and disapprovingly, huffing and rolling up his sleeves. "Need a new subject..." he muttered. Catching the sudden shocked look in Talon's eye, he chuckled lightly. "Much as I would benefit from using such a fresh, young specimin, you are far more useful to me alive." He smirked. "Now watch."

The necromancer's voice began to form strange words which sounded alien to his vocal chords, echoing and rumbling as his arms danced in strange symbols seeming to leave a trailing impression in the air. As his voice reached a crescendo the corpse suddenly opened his mouth and arched his back on the table, silently screaming for several moments before it collapsed back onto the table, its empty eye sockets open still. "Get up." Mai'eth demanded as if talking to a living person, completely unimpressed by the magnitude of what he'd just done. Talon simply stared wide-eyed.

"Mort. Collect the body parts from outside." as if possessed of a sudden energy and purpose, the corpse raised itself from the slab and shuffled outside to do as instructed. "They're all Mort to me." the necromancer half smiled. There was almost a parental proudness on his face for the barest flicker of a moment before he re-implemented his usual passive scowl. "Now then. You have a great deal to think about."
Talon blinked in shock for a second. "I do?"
"Yes." Mai'eth simply, refusing to elaborate. "So go and think. I am busy." He wandered over to the now empty stone table, and turned to a large chest nearby, flinging open the lid unceremoniously and pulling out a collection of limbs. It took a moment for Talon to realise they were all left arms, different species, colours and sizes all.
"What are they all... for?" He asked quietly.
Mai'eth huffed and stopped what he was doing angrily. "Will you stop interrup-" But he was cut off.
"I'VE HAD ENOUGH!" he shouted, reddening instantly. "I've carried dead limbs, I've trekked for miles, come close to death, eaten a human steak, walked with your STINKING corpse buddy and ended up stranded in some dingy cave with NO EXPLANATION!" He panted, his face red with fury and his fists balled. Mai'eth suddenly smiled.
"At last. I thought you would never display a spine." He raised an eyebrow and began to appraise one of the decapitated left arms as he began to explain. "My name is Mai'eth Kerbrar, a necromancer. Myrkul, the dead lord of the dead is my patron, and my mission is to locate a powerful artifact imbued with his essence and ressurrect him. Now I am forced to add that if you ever leave my side or tell anyone of my mission, I will kill you and use you as my puppet until your corpse has rotted beyond any meaningful purpose." His facial expression was passive, but his voice carried an undertone that made it quite clear he was more than serious. Talon gulped.
"Talon." He whispered. "My name is Talon."

[DurinRustbeard]

Fate?

After Mai’eth’s blunt explanation and his immediate return to work Talon decided he did need a moment to delve into thought. Nearby in the extensive cavern he found what appeared to be a seating area. A section of the floor had been leveled and it had an exotic rug adorning the polished stone. On top of that was a couch that had been lavishly upholstered as well as a high backed sitting chair. Between them a broad book shelf and in front of them was a table of a polished black stone with a candelabra of candles sporting blue flame. Talon took a seat on the couch and eased back into its fine material. He looked around the chamber to see what else there was, but as most of the cavern it remained unlit until the elf entered it.

He rested his face into his palms to think. Myrkul… that name was familiar to him. I think I remember my parents speaking of him… The reaper? His mind asked as if expecting an answer from memories long dormant. It doesn’t matter what he believes in.. using the dead like this is an abomination.. He thought as he raised his head to regard the shuffling zombie, bearing in the armload of parts to its busy master. His thoughts went back and forth for some good time, contemplating his best course to take. He wasn’t sure on what was right and what was wrong anymore. If it weren’t for this elf… this Mai’eth he would have been dead over a week ago and perhaps it would be one of his limbs that the elf was slicing open. Talon was a strong believer in fate and as stomach turning as his situation was, he couldn’t help but think that somehow… this was where he was suppose to be at this moment.

Fate had placed him here with this elf. It had led him and thirty nine other young men to the slaughter for only him to survive, to be found by this elf and restored. It couldn’t be just a coincidence that out of the entire army he was selected and sent out where this elf would find him. Out away from the doomed city and the raging barbarians, where against all odds he would be found and spared the fate of all of his comrades. He rested his head back into his palms and sighed a quiet lament. “Now if only fate had told me what to do once I got here..”

[Urithrand]

Mai'eth sliced carefully along the inside of one of the fresh arms with a razor sharp blade while his mind wandered. The events of the last few days running through the veritable genius that was his mind, he forced down a smile at the way fate had dealt him an easy hand yet again. "This is a perfect situation." He muttered to himself, "This weak willed fool will be easy to twist to my purposes. A pair of strong arms to assist in my work will offer no end of benefits." He smirked inwardly as he peeled back the flesh, regarding the tendons, muscles and bones inside. A maggot wriggled free from the flesh, suddenly exposed and delicate, much like the mage himself were he ever to be caught without his magics. This man, this soldier would be his protection. Corpses rotted and weakened over time, but a living protector would not, at least not for years to come. Humans were frail and aged quickly, but for now he was in a prime position. He picked the maggot up between his fingers and took pleasure in slowly squashing it until it burst, leaving goo on his slender digits.

Shaking his head of the momentary distraction, he began to examine the limb in greater detail, marking a careful diagram in his book with long notes while the man seemed to be having some religious epiphany in the corner. Taking some small measure of pity the elf clicked his fingers and ignited the lights in that corner of the abode, making the man jump slightly and scowl. "So much anger." he thought, "that will make my job much easier." He sighed as he looked down at the bared bones under his gaze. "If only this were as easy. I will never find a way to attach this without killing myself." His demeanour suddenly changed from its cheerful predecessor to an angry sneer, and he threw down the knife in a fit of rage. "The solution is not anatomical." He declaired aloud. "It is sure to be a magical solution."

Huffing loudly, he stalked over to the couch near where the soldier sat and threw himself into it with a massive book, almost too big to balance on his lap successfully, though he managed and opened it at the page where he'd left off. "I need silence. Make yourself at home." He muttered as an afterthought. "And don't mind Mort, he'll just stand there until I need him." The zombie groaned long and low as if in response, raising a hand in a comical parody of a wave.

[DurinRustbeard]

Fate Realized

With a blink Talon seemed to return to his conscious state. He glanced around the fire and let out a long sigh. His fire had begun to die out. “How long did the flames hold me this time?” he contemplated. Talon poked the timber near the outskirts of his fire making a trail of embers float skyward with the smoke as the log shifted. He retracted his darksteel sword and rubbed a smudge of soot from its end. He had been thinking a lot about his past recently… This seemed odd since he had long since done away with most any of those remnant feelings that he once harbored for his fellow man. Why now, since coming here to this moistened miserable valley? He had begun to remember the long since forgotten feelings of guilt or regret from his dreams, or when he stared too intently into the fire. Those first years with Mai’eth had been difficult for the young man who was trying to adapt to a new way of thinking. But some twenty years later, and the young man, near the end of his prime was a much different man.

He turned the finely crafted blade over in his hands while thinking intently. “I recall the day Mai’eth gave me this.” He thought to himself as his gaze climbed the dark metals gradual edge. It was there, on the polished blades surface he caught a glimpse of a strange glow that seemed not from firelight, but a pair of Violet glowing eyes. The middle aged man quickly rose to his feet, planting them squarely and readying his blade. Standing just a few feet from him stood an unnerving woman. Her lithe body wrapped snuggly in leather and her flesh wherever it showed was marked heavily in runes. She purred as he wielded his blade readily at her. “What do you want this time woman fiend!?” He said as forcefully as he could muster while pinned in her unnerving gaze. The woman with the pale rune marked skin, black hair, and glowing eyes pouted. “Oh, pity… Alone?” She said while glancing about. “Where, oh where is your keeper brave one?” she said tauntingly.

“He may fall prey to your tricks, but I will not temptress.” His eyes narrowed threateningly with the certainty of his tone. She pouted again and cocked her figure seductively “Oh, come now… I’m sure there is something I could help you with” her voice was sultry and heavy. A knot began to form in Talon’s throat and he cleared it quickly. “The service to my true master is the only thing I need woman-thing, and I doubt you can bring that to pass.” His voice was waivering, but only due to her unnerving appearance. She cocked her hips again and took a few paces forward resting her dainty hand on the edge of his great sword. “Well, I can most certainly help with… THAT!” And with a swift movement the woman snatched the blade and deftly with an unnatural amount of strength wrested the great sword from Talon. Hopping back a few steps she leveled his sword at him so as to stave off a charge. Talon grimaced and his hand shot to his belt to retrieve his dagger. Unfortunately it came too late to his reflexes that he recalled selling the blade so that Mai’eth could mend part of his lost book. “Curse it all!” his mind cried.

He readied his hands as if to grapple her when she would charge, but no such charge came. “What do you want fiend?” he said levelly looking into her unsteadying eyes. The woman thing with the violet eyes flashed a white smile and flipped his sword over in her hand. “As I said before…” The woman said, her face taking on a devilish grin. “I merely wish to… Help!” and with that last word she hoisted his blade over head causing bizarre green eldritch energy to flow from her and engulf the blade, seeming to melt it and twist its form. Talon grimaced at the display of power and feared whatever this… thing had in store for him he wouldn’t be able to stop her. The swirling energies seemed to ball the sword into molten metal within its green glow and then strangely it re-formed. The metal elongated forming a blade then the crosspiece, and pommel formed last. The energy around it dissipated suddenly and it flew forward and landed heavily tip first standing erect into the soil in front of Talon.

The handle swayed to and fro as the blade flexed. He looked at the blade intently in is movements. On the crosspiece was a stark white skull, the visage of a skeleton to most anyone, but Talon recognized it as the Reaper’s image. Before he could speak the woman creature began. “For every king, there is a man with a blade proportionate to himself in strength. If not for this man, the king would fall. If not for this blade, this man will fall” with a cackle of laughter seeming to grow distant the woman vanished into darkness. Certain that she was gone; he tentatively reached out for his altered blade. With a single touch he felt the malignant energy it held now, and the pain it could inflict on his foes. He loved it... but what might the price of such “help” be? His mind wandered to memories of Mai’eth as he looked into the coal black sockets of The Reaper’s face on his blade.

[Urithrand]

Mai'eth held the she-fiend's gaze steadily as she purred her satisfaction at his success. His right hand was wrapped firmly around the throbbing energies contained in some artifact he did not fully understand the purpose of, a brightly shining green gemstone which the unnamed and strangely threatening benefactor had demanded he retrieve. Now she approached him seductively, but his interest in her was far from charged with sexual energy. She stroked the line of his jaw with one finger "Well done my pet." Mai'eth remained silent, holding out the gem on the flat of his hand for her to take, which after a moment's more seduction, she did.

Her behaviour became suddenly predatory, as though Mai'eth were her unsuspecting prey, making him wonder for a moment just exactly what he had just done. Like a coiled viper, she suddenly sprang at him, slamming her hand firmly onto his forehead, thrusting the gem against his skin, and into his skin. He screamed in agony as the stone's sharp and ragged edges cut into his skin and ground against his bone underneath, making blood run down his face as he screamed.

"What in the hells are you doing!?" Talon roared at the woman, raising his huge two handed sword.
"Giving him exactly what he wants." She breathed, only just audible over her prey's cries of agony. She pulled her hand away to reveal that the gem had become completely embedded within Mai'eth's head.

What followed was possibly the most painful, exciting, influential and terrifying experience he had ever been through in his 120 years of life. The gem seemed to have mutated, evolved within his skull into some kind of non-corporeal life form, a spiritual parasite that was entining itself in Mai'eth's life force and latching on with ling, sharp hooks so it could never be removed. Then its energies began to pulsate inside him, the image of a drinking leech lodged in his mind as he felt the parasite sucking out his essence. But it was not just stealing, there was an exchange happening here, as quickly as the intruder was raping him of his energy, it was excreting dark, evil energies right back into Mai'eth's spirit, making him shudder and drop to his knees, unable to speak through pain and ecstasy combined as his new found mistress watched with a smile. Satisfied that her work was done, she clicked her fingers, summoning an impenetrable shadow which seemed to swallow her into nothingness. As it cleared, Mai'eth finally began to catch his breath as the overwhelming sensations slowly became less shocking. He raised a shaking hand to his face to feel a large red welt where the gem had absorbed into his head. He wiped away the blood from his eyes and managed to stand.

But the foul magics were not done with him yet. He felt pain begin to raise in his throat again and he doubled over with cramp, feeling a burning sensation in his skin all over. He wanted to scratch the flesh from his bones as the burning became itching and flaking all at once. He looked at the palms of his hands, and his eyes widened in amazement. He had turned several shades paler, and his skin was no longer like skin but hard, almost solid like bone. His eyes seemed keener, his mind clearer.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Talon growled. Mai'eth looked at his old friend and his eyes looked almost disturbed, good as he was at hiding it.
"More than you could know." He whispered, running his hardened fingers through his hair and pulling it back into a tight knot at the back. He turned his head upwards and felt the rain sliding down with renewed sensation. "My life is just beginning."

[DurinRustbeard]

Memories: A Line in the Ash

In the charred remains of a small city the elf and the man dug around for things of interest and value. It was another city turned casualty in the march of the barbarian horde that Mai’eth and now Talon followed. The Barbarians had turned north again after sacking this city, and were likely licking their wounds and counting their coin. They had lit the town ablaze the day before and after doing so thought it moot to remain there since likely any prizes left for looting were now burning, oh the genius of barbarians.

“Yes, this should do nicely.” Mai’eth said, as he removed the debris from a small, slender form lying quite still beneath it. Talon was some twenty or so yards away, picking through the rubble of a nicer home, hoping to find something of value. His face was youthful, yet grim as he tossed charred timber away from a burnt looking chest with its lock still in place. The town still smoldered and smoked in areas, but this section had become accessible in the last few hours. Talon dusted his charcoal stained hands together before gripping the hilt of his darksteel blade that Mai’eth had given him a few weeks back. With a grunt of effort he brought his blade to bear in a powerful downward arc, striking the charred lock of the chest. The blow snapped the lock open, but to his dismay it also triggered some magic that had remained intact on the charred container. A bolt of white hot lightning flew up his sword in an instant and sent him sailing some ten yards away. Mai’eth turned quickly to see the disturbance, his hands raised with a spell in mind. He had a hard time deciding whether to frown or smirk as he saw his new companion crashing into a pile of rubble, and began grumbling as he stirred and stood.

“Well at least he didn’t ruin the blade.” Mai’eth murmured to himself as he turned his attention back to the still body which he had fully exposed from the debris. Talon groaned as his body recovered from the blast. It had made his heart ache with a tense pain, but he managed to stand and dust himself off. His hands were blistered in a few places which brought a look of displeasure to his face as he considered them. Begrudgingly he took out a vial; very similar to the one Mai’eth had used on him some months ago to save his life. He downed the bitter liquid and only grimaced slightly as the burning sensation coursed through his body, restoring his health and mending his wounds. He trudged up to the chest once his wits were settled and grabbed his blade from the ash in front of the container. This time he decided it prudent to use the swords blade to lift the lid, while standing safely to the side, hoping the chest had no more tricks left to play.

He wedged the blade into the crack that separated the upper and lower portions of the chest and gently lifted the lid. The top fell back and settled into a resting position, its inner chains supporting its weight. He examined the interior of the chest to find it was lined in crimson fabric of fine quality, but to his dismay all that he found waiting inside was a piece of paper written in some language he couldn’t understand. “Grah!” he shouted angrily and kicked the chest over. “Disappointed I see?” a high tenor voice said calmly behind him. He turned quickly after being caught off guard, lost in his anger. Mai’eth stood there with his arms folded across each other and a rather smug look on his face. “It said, Better luck next time Randos!.” The elf said amusingly with a smirk. Talons face turned to one of confusion as he regarded the toppled chest. “Must have been some feud or something unimportant as such” Mai’eth said with a sigh, waving his hand dismissively at the chest.

The elf nimbly began to hop over the remaining rubble heading off in a new direction and shuffling after him was the boy’s corpse whom Mai’eth had discovered and re-animated to serve as Mort for the day. Talon’s eyes narrowed quickly and his gut churned with disgust at the sight of the lifeless child stumbling along as it shuffled. “How could he? He was barely a dozen winters!” Talon’s mind cursed. With a determined pace Talon stepped through the rubble toward the zombie child. He grimaced distastefully once he was within a few paces to see the child was burnt in several areas and was for the most part naked. “No” was all that Talon said in a definite tone as he gripped his blade powerfully and swung in a horizontal arc decapitating the zombie child and sending it falling again, lifelessly to the ash.

He grimaced as the body lay there, the child’s eyes remaining open, now dusted with ash. It was then that something very powerful drove into the contemplating Talon, A massive magical hand barreled him to the ground and held him there, pressing his body into the still warm soil and ash. “You Imbecile!” Was all he could hear over the thudding of his heart… a heart he hoped that would keep beating.

[Urithrand]

"Talon, I need you to do something." Mai'eth looked at his companion with an intensity to which Talon was unaccustomed, and his jaw trembled slightly. "I need you to do something without any question, do you understand?"

The large man looked into his eyes curiously, wiping the last of the blood from his massive bladed sword. His face took on a mask of concern as he wrinkled his forehead. "What do you need, old friend?" Mai'eth chewed his lip nervously, beads of sweat apparent on his smooth, elven brow. He muttered an incantation and concentrated intently on the corpse of one of the Veritas soldiers they had just slain, causing it to stand up and open its eyes again, no intelligence beyond the ability to do exactly as he bid it. The corpse suddenly underwent a change, rotting on the spot until it looked several weeks dead, and emitted a foul stench, drawing flies with comical promptness.

"Firstly I need you to sever this ghast's arm. The left one." He chewed on one of his fingernails while Talon, looking more confused still, did exactly what Mai'eth had asked. The beast did not flinch as its limb was slashed from its body right at the shoulder.

"What's this about, Mai'eth?" Talon asked, but the elf merely waved his hand impatiently, brushing his companion's questions aside.

"Now..." he hesitated, looking more nervous still, "now I need you... to cut off my arm." Talon looked suddenly horrified, shaking his head.

"I couldn't... Mai'eth, what's this about?" Mai'eth silenced the huge man with a glare, scowling and clenching his jaw. Talon fell silent for a few moments, knowing that argument was pointless. Whatever this was about, the elf had made up his mind, and once that happened, nothing could change it. Talon took a rag from his pack and twisted it tightly into a solid length which he handed to his friend. "Bite down on this." He said quietly. Mai'eth hesitated for several moments before taking the rag and placing it between his teeth, pulling his sleeve back to the shoulder and resting the length of his arm on a nearby rock. Once he was set and ready, he guided the huge twin handed sword to the point where he needed the limb severed. His trust in Talon was absolute, he would strike the exact spot once he knew where. Mai'eth closed his eyes and turned his head away, nodding that Talon should strike the blow.

A single strike was all it took, and agony exploded through Mai'eth making him groan loudly, every ounce of his essence focused on not screaming at the top of his lungs. it seemed like a lifetime later, but was in reality barely a second before he took the courage to look down and see the stump of a shoulder, or more to the point the torrent of blood that was gushing out of him. His head began to swim as the loss of blood immediately hit him, and his skin paled further than its already pasty complexion.

"Pass me... the limb... Talon." He managed to stammer, staying conscious by sheer force of will. He did just that, taking the severed ghast limb and handing it to Mai'eth, who took it in his functional hand, holding the elbow and pressing the severed shoulder joint to his own gushing stump. Weakly, he began an incantation he'd been practising for decades, so long that he could have recited it backwards had he wanted to. Years and years of preparation spurred him on and his voice grew in strength until the magic in his words began to pull him along in the momentum, his mind cleared for those glorious moments leading up to the deafening crescendo when the limp, dead limb suddenly sprang to life and reached towards the sky. Mai'eth watched the join intently as the rotted and venomous flesh of the limb began to knit with the ragged and still bleeding remains of his shoulder. Swelling out and joining together the elf clenched his jaw as once again agony erupted in the wound.

Then it was over. The arm was neatly joined to his torso, and the wound had slowed to an ooze of blood which Talon began to bandage before Mai'eth could try to stop him. In the sudden release, darkness took him, and he collapsed into unconsciousness.

"You imbecile!" Mai'eth roared, smashing Talon into the ground with sheer magical energy. A Bigby's gripped the soldier so tightly he was going red and gasping for breath like a landed fish. Mai'eth waved his hand and released the grip, panting with fury at the fool's presumptuous actions. "You have risen above your station, slave." he sneered. Talon rose to his feet, and something seemed to have snapped inside him. He flew at the unprotected wizard and punched him with such force that the elf was thrown five yards backwards and drove into the floor with a sickening thud. Talon flew at him and punched him again, and again until suddenly a thunderclap sounded, and Talon was thrown back twice as far, rigid as a two day dead corpse as the lightning bolt practically fried him. Mai'eth rose to his feet and raised his clenched fists, magical energy crackling through him until he released it in the form of a fireball which struck the warrior square in the chest, throwing him off his feet.

"I am NOT your slave." Talon shouted, coughing and patting out flames in his clothes.

"Do not forget your place." Mai'eth spoke coldly, his eyes darkening in a terrifying display that made Talon waver for a moment. "You are alive because I WILL you to be, no more. You will serve me in whatever way I wish or you will die, do not overstep your bounds." His crackling aura of magic seemed to fade and he calmed, wiping blood from his face, smashed beyond recognition from the powerful fists.

The silence hung in the air for several minutes while the men faced off against one another until Talon finally seemed to lose his will. "Bodyguard." Talon growled. "I am not your slave. But I will serve as your bodyguard. if this is not sufficient, then kill me, for I'll have no more to do with your foul experiments."

Mai'eth stood for several moments, thinking. It wasn't in his nature to negotiate, but this man was having something of a strange effect on him. Was he becoming fond of this man? "That is acceptable." He finally responded. "But punch me again, and you'll regret it. Now fix the damage you have done to my face."

Mai'eth regained consciousness to see Talon knelt over him. His shoulder was tightly bandaged, and he brought his hand up to his face to wipe his eyes, remembering at the last second that this was the decayed, unnatural hand that he saw before his eyes. "I hope you know what you're doing, old friend." He heard Talon's quiet rumble. He didn't have the strength to speak, he merely nodded. His head spun, the loss of blood taking his will to move. "You're going to need new robes."

[DurinRustbeard]

Whispers of the Mind

While Mai'eth was off shopping for robes and appropriate gloves to replace what had become blood stained and misfitting Talon rented a room for some much needed time to think.

The key to the door clicked reassuringly as it extended the bolt into the doors frame. He pulled the key out and then tucked it into a minute pocket on the inside diameter of his belt. As he fumbled his large fingers trying to get the key into place he wished he could work magic and seal the doorway as he had seen his companion do on many occasions by making the door swell to press tightly to the frame. Lacking such talent he let out a sigh through his nose and went to sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress sank under his weight and what little cushioning there was flattened against the wooden side rails. Talon drew forth his large great sword, which was the only equipment he kept on his person at all times. He placed the tip of the blade onto the marred and gouged wood floor and rested his hands on its crosspiece.

His unkempt graying blond hair hung loosely on either side of his face while he leveled his gaze to the center of the crosspiece. There, in a well etched relief was a stark white skull. The she creature had added this when she reformed his blade in the swirl of energy that was produced. Ever since then he had began to hear something. He wasn’t sure at first, thinking himself silly for thinking such he dismissed the voice. But now he sat here in his rented room, farthest from the noises of the inn below. He was going to listen.

He sat there motionless just listening for some good time before frustration hit him. He had been staring intently into those skulls orb less sockets focusing on what was being said and he couldn’t make out a word of it. It was like the rasping of a man dying in the heat of the desert, his mouth parched beyond the ability to form words. Talon with eyes lined in dark circles, loosely hanging hair and his unshaven face looked like a haggard version of the proud young man he once. He grunted and drove the tip of his blade between the floorboards to keep it upright. Quickly the desperate man reached for the lit candle on the stand next to him. Gathering some of the cooling wax between his fingers he formed a ball, stuffed it into his ear and then satisfied with the result duplicated the procedure on his other ear.

His mind suddenly raced as it heard the improvement. The whisper wasn’t something audible at all! It was in his mind and he had to figure out what it was saying else he be driven slowly mad. He grabbed the hilt of his sword and closed his eyes.

*****

“Oh, well you can read! How pleasant..” The elf’s tenor voice chided the young man. Talon blew out a long sigh from his nose as he ran his fingers over the spines of all the books the elf had collected in his life. “If you want to find something entertaining I doubt that is the proper shelf.” The elf commented while leaning over a newly acquired corpse on his slab, never once looking over to Talon. “They’re all anatomy drawings and such, hardly of any interest to yourself.” He paused and brought a bloody finger to rest on his angular chin. “Well not entirely.. I believe there are some sketches of the female anatomy in those as well!” He said with a minor chuckle and lowered his hand back to his work, leaving a small red dot on the tip of his chin.

Talon smirked, “Maybe later” he said dryly to the elf while still looking over the spines of the books. One he found of interest had a blank leather spine and was not much bigger than his hand. The parchment was yellowed either from age, or from the conditions in the cave, he couldn’t quite tell. After flipping through a few pages he reasoned that it was a journal of sorts. No dates accompanied the entries, but the general content lead Talon to quickly reason it was a man of some interest in whatever realm he was. Likely a mayor or perhaps some minor lord. He sat down and began reading it, the azure flames nearby making it difficult, but at least possible to do. He sat there for several hours, flipping the small pages slowly. Every so often without any explanation there was a rather skillfully drawn human skull. The rest of the page was colored black or filled in by coal smudges, but the skull was crisp and drawn quite accurately.

“Oh yes, that book!” A tenor voice said brightly behind him. Talon startled minutely, his eyes shooting wide and his head quickly turning to Mai’eth. “I believe I acquired that book from the vault where some minor baron was buried… Never read any of it." He paused for a moment as he leaned down to get a better look at the skull on the page. “I think I took it because of all the depictions of the skulls, were quite well drawn, he must have been a physician and an artist.” With his comments ended Mai’eth spun and wandered off to some other portion of the cavern. Talon simply shook his head at the most peculiar elf and brought his gaze back to the book again, taking a moment to regard the skull before flipping to the next page. At the top of that page he found a rather detached looking quote then followed by that day’s goings on and thoughts. It read as such, “Know me and fear me. My embrace is for all and is patient but sure. The dead can always find you. My hand is everywhere - there is no door I cannot pass, nor guardian who can withstand me”

Talon read as often as he could of the strange journal, and began to grow interested in the man whose life was detailed within it. He wasn’t a man of major importance to the world, but he was rather wealthy and had several servants. He also seemed to disfavor his tailor for some reason he never seemed to clarify. There were many mentions of deliveries being late and that he would have to garnish the caravan’s men’s wages for his lost earnings. It was because of this Talon imagined him as a successful merchant in some small town or city. While he was reading Talon managed to feel distant from the often grotesque things that would shuffle or stumble around the cave. He had learned some time ago to become jaded to the presence of the undead, but the smell sometimes was a bit much. Thus leading him on several occasions while on outings to procure bottles of perfume or incense from wherever they went. Afterwards he would tie a woman’s scarf around mort’s neck and douse it with the stuff leaving mort none the worse for it, but still only masking the smell of decaying flesh.
He decided it was time for a nap when he reached another one of the many drawings of the skull.

*****

Talon’s eyes opened to find his hands lying on the crosspiece of his sword, lines creased into his wrists from where they had been resting. He growled in frustration that he had fallen asleep and rubbed his sore wrists. He was then up pacing the room looking at his erect sword contemplating how best to listen without falling asleep..

[Urithrand]

Mai'eth gazed through the darkness of a cloudy midnight towards the pinpricks of light as Veritas soldiers patrolled the cliff-side. Since the beginning of his transformation he had found that the darkness became more and more irrelevant, and he saw as clearly as if it were midday on a clear summer's day, following the movements of the humans who were clearly not so blessed. His scowl darkened as he watched their rhythmical movements, and finally growing bored, he clicked his fingers forcefully at the nearby pile of bones he had assembled. The skeleton stood up in an instant as though it were simply sleeping on the floor, clutching at a giant halberd with a viscious grip. Mai'eth chanted a number of spells, toughening and strengthening his creation, until it loomed evilly, threateningly over him.

Stepping through a shadowy door in reality, Mai'eth himself became completely invisible, and gave the order to attack. The skeleton responded with great enthusiasm, or a relatively excellent imitation of it. The Veritas screamed. The Veritas ran. The Veritas died. Mai'eth watched with cold detatchment, smiling slightly as the screams of his enemies rang through the night. The nearby legion encampment seemed to freeze in sudden fear as their foes' screams rattled the mountains, Mort wreaking death like the reaper himself.

It was a shockingly short time before the entire cliffside was no longer populated by the living. Mai'eth, still under cover of invisibility waved his hand and caused the skeleton to suddenly topple back into a lifeless pile of bones before he turned on his heel and walked back down the cliffside, his sadistic thirst for death sated for now. He had watched the skeleton's techniques, studied its methods and made mental notes on how to improve his already almost flawless design in future incarnations.

Reaching the bottom of the cliff, Mai'eth was greeted by an unpleasant sight. A dark skinned man stood there, waiting, wearing the colours of the legion. Mai'eth skirted past him and circled around, coming from behind before dispelling is invisibility and speaking.

"A dangerous place to be alone." He said with only the slightest hint of a threat in the undertone of his voice. The man turned and looked at Mai'eth with a look in his eyes that made the elf uneasy, and he suddenly wished Talon were here.
"That it is." The man responded in a low rumble of a voice, barely above a whisper. "A dangerous place where a man could see things that might make him lose his mind. Bony things." The man seemed to delight in the large lump that formed in the back of the necromancer's throat.
"I'm no ordinary man, I can assure you." He muttered. "And I have no ordinary mind, I am quite safe."
"I bet. You seen anything bony, friend? Anything that makes the Veritas scream with fear? How much do you know about fear?" The soldier bared his teeth in a grin, and Mai'eth realised his facade was useless. If he was going to survive this ordeal, he was going to have to kill the soldier. He slowly began to peel off the glove of his left hand, concealed behind his back.
"Oh, I know plenty about fear." He growled so threateningly he was impressed with himself. "And screams. I do so love the screams."
The soldier leaned in close, and Mai'eth readied his undead graft in a fist, intending to strike the man when he came close enough.
"You could achieve a lot more if you had the right friends." The soldier whispered. "There's always a use for such a man who can make his enemies scream so." Mai'eth froze. Was this a trap? "Come back here tomorrow." The pseudo-legionnaire growled. "I can put you in touch with some friends. You'd be certain to find some work with them."

The legionnaire promptly walked away, leaving Mai'eth staring at the spot he had just vacated, wondering if this whole thing could be a setup.