BB Initiate Quest - Take what you get...

[Kyo]

(closed)


There were unexplored areas of Fiorair that Kyo doubted she would ever find even in her lifetime. The clan was so busy rebuilding the remnants of what they had fought so hard to claim for themselves that they barely had time to look beyond their own borders. But finally she had needed a break. The confining and yet decaying walls that had once been homes and streets and perhaps even businesses had become too much for her. She’d needed a distraction from the everyday same and the courtyard that she had claimed and began transforming into a practice area was not enough, not today. So she had assigned tasks, things for the other members to accomplish while she was gone and headed out into the swamp.

The moment her feet had walked upon the wet muck of the ground she had felt relief. When the sounds of her fellow clan members could no longer reach her ears and the only things to enter their cavity was the gentle pitch and cry of various birds and animals. The fog that settled over the swamp was lighter today than it had been and it allowed her to peer up to the canopy high above her through a white haze. Though detail was washed away, the way the sun filtered through the fog in a soft and barely perceptible fashion just seemed kind of beautiful to her. It also relaxed her and drove the tension and worry from her mind over just what she planned on doing with a group of misfits.

The ninja was beginning to think she unfit to lead them. She knew nothing about leading thieves, warriors, whatever The Brotherhood could be classified as. She possessed no knowledge in what exactly they expected from her. Giving orders was so far beyond her comfort zone that she almost...she didn’t even know what, disband them maybe? No, not after she had worked so hard to get this far. Kyo had just expected there to be someone by her side as she led this group towards whatever destiny they made for themselves. But that person had disappeared as surely as he had arrived and he left a hole that could not be filled. He was the enigmatic leader she knew the others would look up to. Not her, not some ninja from Akashima that knew only killing instead of leading. They had not left though with the disappearance of their other leader. They had stuck by her side even when she herself had considered the campaign perhaps a little futile and more than lost.

They believe in you...

Did they really? Kyosku knew that Jared believed in her and she couldn’t help but feel her wavering confidence boosted by that fact. The others must have some kind of belief in her as well; after all they would not have stuck with her for so long if it weren’t true.

As her black leather boots slunk through the wet ground, Kyo pulled herself from her head and concentrated on where she was going. Despite the humidity Fiorair really was a beautiful place and she could appreciate it more than the others could. Even if her clothes hung upon her body damp and feeling like a dead weight. Even if the water was so deep and murky she could not see the bottom of it. The trees here were ancient and older than even the oldest Draconian she had met and the creatures seemed magical somehow. Their sometimes flamboyant colours stood out in stark contrast to all the brown and grey and green as they hide in the hanging moss that fell down like curtains from the branches of the trees. If she remembered correctly, there were ruins of another ancient city not too far from her and it would make a good place to stop and rest and perhaps eat something. She had been walking for hours after all, hours made hard to gauge with the sun hiding on her.

[Deus di Eclave]

The murky waters dampened the ambient sounds of the forest, muting the calls of the birds and giving the entire land a sense of looming peril. The drow necromancer enjoyed the sense of security that the darkened woods gave him. A fireball danced in his left hand with flickering flames as he waded through ankle-deep water in the wilderness of the Fiorair. He had come to the land of Dheathain to rid himself of his bond to the necromancer Xem'zûnd and to clear his mind. Most thought he was dead and he was content to see that news spread for a little while longer. Much had changed since he had been exiled from The Underdark.

Drizaghar spend the next few moments swatting away gnats and losing himself in thoughts of his travels over the course of the last few months. From being a stranger in a strange land to being one of The Forgotten One’s minions, it had certainly been eventful since his expulsion into the Overworld. His trip to Dheathain would serve to clear his head and help him focus on the next step in his quest to rid the world of the elves. “One step at a time,” he reminded himself, lapsing into an old habit of thinking out loud.

After several hours of making his way through the forested swamp, the dark elf saw the foundation of a ruined city lying through the vines to his right. Angling his course toward the ancient stones, Drizaghar finally pulled himself onto dry land. After emptying his boots of the foul-smelling water they had been carrying, he looked about curiously. Whatever ancient race had inhabited the city was most likely little more than a memory, but the drow necromancer was still interested in their architecture. Much could be learned from studying that which others took for granted.

As he ran his slender fingers over the intricate carvings in the weathered stones, he heard a scraping sound ringing through the ruins. Caution set in, but the dark elf couldn’t resist a glance at what was causing such a terrible noise. Stealing stealthily forward, Drizaghar poked his hooded head around a corner and saw two large lizardmen sharpening their axes on a whetstone. The drow’s mouth crooked in a grin of mischief as he considered launching a fireball into their midst. The thought faded slowly, leaving the desire for troublemaking behind as his mind turned to more practical options.

Soft whispers behind him caused him to turn about quickly, pulling his piwafwi about his face and blending back into the shadows. “I tell you,” hissed a deep voice rounding the bend, “The watersss don’t lie. Sssomeone elssse isss here.” The reptilian voice told the drow that he had more company than he could handle. With any luck, the lizardmen would stroll past and the dark elf would be able to slip away unnoticed.

“Ssstop your prattle,” a higher voice commanded. “I sssmell drow.” Drizaghar stifled a groan as he realized the creatures had heightened senses. Surely such animals would spot him in an instant where he stood pressed up against the stonework. Plans formulated in his mind, each too impractical to execute as he raced for a solution. The lizards rounded the corner near him and stopped cold as their eyes immediately locked on their prey.

“Ssstop!” one of them shouted. “Intruder. Martak!” They both unsheathed their own axes and the necromancer soon was surrounded by four of the brutish reptiles wielding their wicked blades. “You tressspassssss on our hollowed groundsss,” the one apparently named Martak growled. “Now you will die… no one can know thisss place.” The four thugs moved in as one, each swinging their axes in perfect unison.

The dark elf was cornered and the wall at his back was far too high to scale. He ducked below the oncoming blades, unhooking his crossbow from its place at his belt as he did. Lunging to the side as the four turned to attack anew; he unleashed one of his iron bolts into the face of the nearest lizardman. The thing screamed in agony, clutching its face as it stumbled back. Martak shoved it to the side, pushing past his comrade to get a chance at the drow.

“You’ll pay for that in blood, whelp,” the creature roared. The mighty axe rose in the air as the other two slashed forward toward his stomach. Drizaghar summoned fire to both hands, dealing damage to the lizard on his right as both projectiles splashed flame in his eyes and nostrils. Still the remaining two landed hits, one axe ripping through his leather armor as he twisted away. Wincing in pain, the dark elf turned to let fly another quarrel. The scaled fist on Martak smashed into his nose, sending the world spiraling into darkness as the biting taste of iron filled his mouth.

[Kyo]

Her memory has served her well. Before her eyes the ninja watched as the towering walls of another set of ancient ruins rise from the saturated ground of the swamps. The grey stone attempted to tower to the former glory it had once stood to, tall and proud and caring not for the elements that battered against it. It tried and failed. Time had begun to win the battle here. Walls had fallen and crumbled to the ground, sinking into the muck and the dirt and becoming overgrown in thick vines that slithered across the ground and tripped the feet. Her sure footing slipped through them and walked across them with the balance of a ninja as she moved towards the ruins. The entrance to the once inviting city was nowhere, if there even had been an entrance. She could not even tell what was home, wall or street. The stones were far too eroded and too many of them littered the ground. What odd thoughts passed through her mind pertained to the fate of this ancient race.

Walls loomed around her, casting deep shadows that looked grey in the light fog. It was not so thick today, not so choking. Bu it still obscured that slight bit of detail from the eyes. As she moved deeper into the ruins, the light sounds of the swamp were replaced by ill fitting noises she knew too well; battle. She had heard them too many times before not to recognize them, even as muffled and soft as they were. Feeling the muscles along her shoulders bunch and tense in anticipation, the ninja began to quicken her steps. The hard soles of her boots fell more carefully upon the sodden ground, making naught but a sound that any human ear could pick up. If it was inhuman she may be a bit out of luck.

Stones tried to block her path but the number ninja simply climbed over them. The twisting corridors distorted the sound though and made it hard for her to choose where to go. Finally frustrated, Kyo climbed to the top of one of the walls and began to run across the uneven surface. The battle had been closer to her than she thought. From up here she could easily enough see who exactly was losing. The dark elf was pathetic in battle, his moves clumsy at best and downright desperate. He didn’t even try to block to blow to his face. Shaking her head, the ninja watched him stumble back as crimson liquid poured down from his broken nose. The man was dead without her help.

Sighing, Kyo jumped to the next wall over and then before the lizard man could ready his axe for a final blow she was upon him. Her form sailed through the air. Her knees bunch up close to her stomach as they slammed into his chest and threw off his centre of balance. He fell with her landing on top of her. His head collided with the earth, knocking whatever brain he had around inside. Not wishing to give him a chance to think or even react she moved. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of her ninjato and pulled it from its sheath. No silver flashed, the blackened blade merely sang the song of battle before sliding into the side of the lizard’s neck. Blood filled the air passage and began to snake down towards his lungs. He sputtered and tried to curse but could no longer talk, his vocal cords destroyed. Smirking in satisfaction, the ninja pulled the sword from his neck and then rose. He would be dead in less than a minute.

Using the shock on the other three lizard men to her advantage, Kyosku moved. Her steps faster than a regular human and bringing her closer to them than their minds could hopefully register. There were only three, as long as they were stupid creatures they would be easy pickings. One raised an arm as if to fend her off. With a smirk, Kyo disappeared into the darkness of a shadow right before their eyes. A heartbeat later she emerged behind them. Her blade lashed out the moment her feet once against hit solid ground and buried itself into the back of the lizard, protruding from the other side and stopping his heart instantly. As he fell to the ground, she ripped it from his flesh and turned to the others.

Two down, two more to go.

[Deus di Eclave]

He struggled awake, knowing that only death awaited him if he succumbed to the darkness. The lizardmen would be upon him in an instant, but he had no way of knowing how long he had been out. When the two worlds spinning before his eyes finally settled into one, he saw Martak grasping his throat and gurgling his last breath through a bloody haze. Drizaghar’s eyes widened in fear; what fell power had killed the leader?

A shadowy form erupted from the space behind the remaining three and a dark sword lanced through one of their chests. The lizardman whose eyes the dark elf had burnt fell forward, dead before he hit the ground. His mysterious rescuer whirled about the face the remaining two, but they were ready for her. Axes whirled defensively as the brutish lizards closed in on the murderer of their comrades.

Blood pounded in his head, making every heartbeat painful. His breath caught in his throat as the damage from his injuries began taking their toll. He could tell he was about to pass out again, but he had to try and help the nimble warrior who had saved his life. As his vision narrowed, the drow necromancer aimed his crossbow and focused on the bolt. As the iron projectile launched through the air, its length caught fire, the flames building as they closed in on their target.

Just before he fell back into the darkness, he saw the quarrel strike one of the lizardmen in the chest, piercing his heart where he stood. The dark elf smiled, knowing that his shadowy savior would easily be able to take down the last one. But what of me? he wondered absently, his world fading out as he spiraled down… down… down.

[Kyo]

Kyosku turned, expecting the other two upon her in an instant. Their axes ready, twirling in their nimble fingers. Her ice blue eyes flashed from their weapons to their faces as her mind and instincts warred with one another for the first action in line. They too seemed reluctant to make the first move, but she could see it. The strain and pull along the muscle, even before the rough and scaled surface of their skin. It was as evident as the heavy, humid air around her. She shifted and then felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Behind!?

Before she could turn around, an arrow flew. She knew the sound, felt her heart skip a beat, and knew she had no time to react. The arrow flew past her and pierced right into the chest of the left lizard. He didn’t even scream. Tensing her legs, she pushed off the ground and sped towards the last lizard. The surprise upon his face wore off just as she closed in. She slashed towards his chest; his blocked it with his axe and sent her arm ripping off to the side with the force of the blow. Gritting her teeth she reached behind her. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of her second ninjato. Metal sang and the blade rent the air. It sliced along the lizard’s arm and he pulled it back with a yelp of pain. Just as he pulled back, she moved in for the finish blow. Her fingers moved and twisted the ninjato around in her hand until the point of the blade faced her elbow. Pulling back her arm, she thrust it forward in one powerful moved and watched it slip through the soft flesh of the throat. Ripping the blade out, Kyo watched the lizard man fall to the ground, his eyes dead.

Taking a deep breath, she wiped the blood off her blades before sheathing them once more. Then she turned. Her eyes fell upon the unconscious man only a few feet away from her.

Lookie what happened to get lost in my swamp...

He was an interesting looking one. His skin was darker than she had seen on any race and contrasted immensely by his stark white hair. The hair of an old man, but he was clearly no old man. He must be a Drow. Leaning down next to him, she rolled him onto his back, her eyes searching his body. His wounds seemed slight and could easily be healed.

Nothing comes for free in this world, Drow. You’ll owe me when you wake up.

Grabbing him by the arm, Kyo closed her eyes and focused her energy. After a moment or two, both of them began to blend into the shadows of the ruins. Then they disappeared.

----------------------------

“Where did you find him?”

Kyo glance towards her red haired thief, her lover. She had just come back from the infirmary and Jared had been waiting for her outside. “Out in the swamp. He was being attacked by a group of lizard men and I felt like being generous.”

He smirked and folded his arms across his chest before leaning back against the grey stone wall. “How nice of you.” She watched him for a moment as he stood there and regarded her. His grey eyes filled with a sense of mirth.

Kyo closed the distance between them, watching as his brows rose slightly and his stance relaxed, as if he expected something from her. “I can be quite the generous leader when I want to be.” She moved his arms from his chest as she pressed her body against his. He leaned down but stopped just shy. She stood upon the tips of her toes and kissed him. Her teeth nipped his lower lip, teasing him. He growled and wrapped his arms around her, deepening the kiss. She let it last, enjoying the moment and the feel of his desire for her pressing against her. Then she pulled away.

“I’m going to the courtyard to train.”

He groaned and tried to kiss her again. She leaned forward and bit his neck; he gasped. Then she slipped from his arms.

“We’ll continue that tonight.” The look he gave her promised more than just finishing it.

[Deus di Eclave]

When he woke he was in a cold stone room, his head lying on a coarse pillow and a heavy blanket draped over him. It took a bit for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and he silently berated himself, Too much time in the Overworld has ruined my night vision. When he could finally see, he took stock of his surroundings. Several more beds stuck out from the walls, medicinal supplies lines the shelves above them, and cabinets doubtlessly held even more. The door to the rest of the establishment was closed, presumably to give him time to sleep. But where was he?

He swung his legs over the side of the simple bed on which he rested and waited for the moment of dizziness to pass. He licked his lips, his tongue too dry to do much good. Every muscle in his body ached and it took him several moments to stand. Bandages ran across his body, securing the wounds that the lizardmen had inflicted on him. Apparently his shadowy savior was also a compassionate soul.

Limping slightly as he walked, the drow necromancer made his way over to the large door and heaved it open. His muscles protested, but eventually the door grated across the smooth stone floor and he gazed down the corridor before him. So many doors. He counted no less than ten doors lining the passageway and another facing him from the far end. Where to begin?

“Hello?” he called out tentatively in Common, his voice echoing off the grey stone. No one returned the call and so he shuffled over to the closest door and tugged it open. A small supply room greeted him and he grunted as he pushed the door closed once again. The rooms were stocked well, presumably for a small contingent of people to survive on. So where was everyone?

Silently, he picked his way carefully down the hall, red eyes alert for any sign of a trap. He reached the far door and slid his hand through the handle. With a quick motion, he jerked the door open and this one slid easily on oiled hinges. He stepped through and saw that the hall continued to the right. However, the wall directly opposite him was missing. The corridor opened out into the swamp of Dheathain, showing Drizaghar that he was sneaking around one of the many ruins in the place.

He shook his head at the woman’s connections. Obviously she could not have been working alone; what person could single-handedly convert an ancient ruin into a fortress? Fear began to creep into the dark elf’s veins; just what had he landed himself in the middle of?

He continued down the hall and eventually it opened up above him as well. Broken pillars dotted the courtyard that had formed and the passageway had all but melted away into the architecture. Walking out toward the center of the courtyard, he sensed a sudden movement to his right. Whirling about and reaching for his crossbow, he realized that all of his possessions were gone. His head snapped up just in time to see the shadows slough off the form of his mysterious savior as she stepped from the darkness in the corner of the courtyard. What had he gotten himself in to?

[Kyo]

Kyo drew in a slightly ragged breath, quickly filling her aching lungs with oxygen and then releasing it in a whoosh. As she calmed her breathing, her cold eyes regarded the man feet away from her. His eyes were wide, with shock, disbelief or fear she could not gauge, but the look amused her all the same. As she watched him, she reached up and wiped away the beads of sweat from her forehead. She hadn’t been training for very long, two hours maybe, but the humidity of Dheathain made her clothes stick to her like the hottest summer day in Akashima. It was uncomfortable at best and downright annoying at worst. Many of the others in The Brotherhood hated it here in the swamp simply because of the weather. Kyo was a little more forgiving than they were. This was their home now after all and giving it up simply because of the weather was unforgivable in her mind. She’d fought too hard for it.

“So you’re moving.” Kyo stated to him, her tone even and implying she didn’t care either way.

She was moving before he had a chance to reply to that, if he even cared to justify such a statement with words. Her sure feet brought her closer to him, easily cutting through the long grass that filled the courtyard. Kyosku spent hours here, both in training and in turning this place into something suitable for training. It had been a wreck when they had first claimed these ruins as their own, filled with large and small chunks of stone. Slowly and painstakingly she had begun to transform it into the open and beautifully ancient courtyard it now was, only asking for help when something was far too heavy to lift on her own.

All her hard earned work had turned it into the airy space it was now, even the sun couldn’t help but shine into it, as rare as that was. It filtered through the thick green canopy and bathed her in warmth upon occasion, sending pleasurable shivers racing down her spine.

“Your footwork back there was pathetic.”

The words flowed from her easily, softly, as if she were talking about the weather and not his disgraceful fighting skills.

She strode past him and then stopped at a broken pillar. Reaching to grab the water skin there, she sat down and drank greedily of the contents, which were merely cool by now, warmed by the day. Wiping the excess from her mouth, she stopped the end and then let it slip from her fingers to the ground. Her one leg drew up close to her body as the hard sole of her tabi rested against the grey rock. Then she looked expectantly up at him, as if waiting for some kind of answer. Why he was in Fiorair would be a nice start, preferably, she didn’t care much about his tactics in battle or what kind of cheap excuse he could come up with for why four pathetic lizard men got the better of him.

[Deus di Eclave]

As rude as the woman was now acting, Drizaghar still realized that she had saved his life. The dark elf loathed being indebted to another, but it seemed that he owed this fighter much. Ignoring her jab at his battle tactics, he merely commented, “I should repay you in some manner.”

Turning from her inquisitive stare, he walked to the shadows where she had emerged. He swiped a hand curiously through the black spot, but nothing out of the ordinary greeted him. His slender fingers struck the stone wall, proceeding no further than one would expect. The area was far too small for her to have been hiding, so how had she materialized so suddenly?

Slowly pivoting in a half-circle, his leather boot rasped against the dirt floor of the courtyard, sending miniscule ripples of dust puffing out in every direction. His eyes narrowed as they searched for an answer in the fading light of the open room. Ambient sounds from the swamp, muted by the thick walls surrounding them, floated into his ears, but he blocked them out. This woman was different; of that he was sure.

When he was once again facing her, with that bemused look still light upon her features, the dark elf necromancer began to speak, “What were you doing out here?” If he had to owe his life to someone, he wanted to at least know what he was getting involved with.

[Kyo]

“And what would you classify as here, specifically?” She asked him with a slight quirk of her lips.

Her eyes had watched him as he moved about her courtyard; walking towards the ‘wall’ she had appeared from. Or so it had probably looked to him. As it stood, she had merely materialized from the shadows that lay before the wall. Not that he could possibly know that, unless of course he happened to be another shadow walker. But alas, his confusion marked him as not. Shame, shadow manipulation was an interesting technique rarely found outside of her village. And even then, not many ninja could master it let alone use it properly. She happened to be one of the lucky few, though it seemed to run strong amongst the Tetsoma’s.

“If you happened to be referring to this courtyard, then I am training. It’s been a few hours since I brought you back here and the fight with the lizard men was far from satisfactory. I needed a release.” She told him with a bit of a smirk. An easy battle for her and yet it had been far more difficult for him. He was a Drow; he should be stronger than this. “However, if the here you are referring to is indicative of this large set of ruins, then let me inform you that you are currently within the stronghold of The Bandit Brotherhood. A small clan recently revived in the swamps of Fiorair.” For now, she wisely kept her leadership of said clan a secret. Advertising herself in such a way was not always the wisest of decisions. She knew nothing about this man other than his lack of fighting skills. That being said he was a Drow; the chance of him having powerful magic was good, yet unlikely. He should have used it on those beasts if he had it.

“I happened upon you by mere chance. I was merely out in the swamps exploring, had I avoided that set of ruins, you would most certainly be dead by now.”

If it were Jared standing before her, or any of her other members, she would no doubt put them through rigorous training. As generous as she could sometimes be, no warrior or bandit or thief in her clan should need to depend so heavily on others to save them. Working as a group and with a partner was different. This man was, however, not under her command, not yet anyway. He did after all owe her his life and she planned on collecting on that in some way. Whether or not he would enjoy his dept had yet to be seen.

“Now that I have answered your questions, I believe common courtesy dictates that you answer mine.” Resting her chin upon her knee, Kyo looked up at the man, the smirk still playing upon the corners of her lips. For the most part, her voice had stayed even and unemotional. “Most strangers in my land start with their name and from there usually explain why they’re trespassing on the territory of another.” And do be truthful, I will know if you’re lying. Though the last of her words she kept to herself, her eyes clearly said them for her. If he could pick up such nuisances of the body.

[Deus di Eclave]

Her body language marked her as dangerous, a woman that Drizaghar should be wary of crossing. However, her question was innocuous enough. “My apologies,” he realized his rude behavior and corrected it accordingly. “I am called Drizaghar of House Maena’triel. As for my presence in Dheathain, I am… researching.” There, he thought. Truthful enough without being too revealing.

The truth was that the drow had little idea why he had come to Fiorair. Being under the thumb of Xem'zûnd had been useful in the beginning, but he had quickly tired of answering to the Forgotten One’s demands. An unfortunate battle with Charles Magebane had freed him of that commitment and so the dark elf had fled to the farthest corner of the world that he knew. By telling his savior that he was interested in research, he had fallen back onto one activity that would serve him well. Perhaps this organization had useful information, one could never tell. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The necromancer realized he owed this woman his life, but he wasn’t about to let her think she owned him.

Underdark custom dictated that he bow to the authority of a woman, but his time in the Overworld had tempered years of that training. Still, it was difficult to shed the notion entirely, and so he lowered his gaze from her icy blue eyes respectfully. “What manner of training?” he inquired. The manner in which she had appeared still bothered him; a mystery that he fully intended to solve.

As he waited for her reply, his mind raced over what he had seen in the ruins thus far. Home to the Bandit Brotherhood; he had never heard of that particular organization. Perhaps he’d question her about it later. Regardless, it seemed as though he was forced to deal with the residents of the swamp whether he liked it or not. And if this warrior were anything like the others, he had much work to do.

[Kyo]

Kyosku chuckled softly and slowly pulled herself from the boulder she sat upon. With long, slow and sinuous motions she began to move around the Drow in a circle, deliberately stalking him. Her boots barely made any noise as they stepped down on the rough dirt and grass and moss covered ground. In fact, the slight breeze that ripped through the ruins and cast shivers along her sweat damp skin made more noise than she did.

“My, my...aren’t you just full of curious little questions.” She smirked, keeping her expression for the moment at somewhere just around playful. She’d hate to scare him this early in the game. “You know that curiosity can oft times get a man killed.”

She didn’t particularly mind his curious behaviour, but neither was she about to reveal all of her secrets to him. That would be a great blunder on her part. As she continued to circle him, the ninja caught sight of a familiar face out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head slightly, she glanced at one of the stone pillars a few dozen feet away and saw her red headed thief leaning there. He casually lent against it, his arms folded across his chest as he watched her with a curious stare, a slight smirk dancing along the corners of his lips.

Turning from him, she focused her attention on Drizaghar once more. “Endurance training.” She told him plainly as she appeared on his left side. “Ah, but I bet you want to know what kind of endurance training. The fact that I appeared as if from thin air intrigues you and someone like you, well, you do nothing but long for the next power to come your way. So you wish to know how such a thing as that is possible. I could tell you...but what would I get out of it?”

“I will pay any price.” He quickly retorted, his glowing eyes following every move her body made.

Her lips twitched as she suppressed a smile. “Any price? You would say that without even knowing what I could ask of you?”

“What can you asked that I haven’t already paid?”

That was the question wasn’t it? Just what could she ask of him? No matter what it was, he would be bound to do it and agree to it. The real question in Kyo’s mind was just what could she do with someone like him? He was far from a warrior; she had already seen those skills. But as a Drow, the chances of him possessing other skills and abilities were quite high. Just as she could manipulate the shadows around her, he could quite possible manipulate other things in kind.

Instead of answering his question, she posed another of her own. “What kinds of skills do you posses, Drizaghar of House Maena’triel?”

[Deus di Eclave]

The words themselves were harmless enough, but the drow necromancer knew that the meaning behind them was lethal. Here was a moment in time when he needed to hold nothing back in a display of his powers. There were times when not showing everything one possessed was wise, but this was not one of those times. The deadly ninja circled him, as if waiting for a chance to pounce on him. Drizaghar vowed not to give her that chance.

“Fascath,” he whispered into the breeze, letting the playful wind toss his words away from the prowling fighter in front of him. “I need a skeleton.” Instantly his familiar appeared, unseen by any save himself. The creature took the form of a drow, but the features were blurry as he existed between dimensions. Fascath had been created from a fraction of Drizaghar’s own lifeforce and thus the two were inexplicably connected. Unless he wished it, Fascath couldn’t be seen by any of the material plane save his master.

<<This place was once a battleground of unimaginable proportions,>> the drow familiar answered. <<Take your pick.>> Without a sound, Fascath disappeared as quickly as he had come. Drizaghar smiled knowingly; his host was about to get quite the show.

He closed his eyes and focused his necromantic powers on the earth around him. If Fascath was right, fallen warriors lay just beneath his feet. Dark sorcery raced through his body, emptying into the stone floor and traveling beyond. He was sure that the piercing gaze of the ninja never left him, but he pushed that trouble from his mind. For the time being, it was just him and his power.

A tendril of power laced from the recesses of his mind and told him that he had control of a fallen warrior similar to the creatures he had faced earlier in the swamp. With a mighty tug, he unearthed the beast and pulled it toward him. Stone slabs cracked and erupted as the earth beneath them shifted. Drizaghar’s eyes snapped open, their glowing red color intensified by the strain of reanimating such a beast. The undead lizardman had strips of flesh hanging from his massive frame and a putrid stench came from his grave. He was missing teeth and had few scales left, but there was no doubting what a fierce warrior he had once been. A large maul was still clutched tightly in his fist, testament that he had gone down fighting.

Sweat poured from the dark elf as the mindlink was established with his new slave. The six foot reptile roared to the sky, outstretching its arm as it cursed the gods that brought it back to the earth. The drow necromancer thrust his arm straight out in the air before him and uttered a word. Instantly, the reptilian warrior turned to face him and fell to one knee.

“My life isss yoursss, Massster,” the beast intoned as it lowered its head.

“Fight me,” the drow commanded it.

“Massster?” the lizardman raised it eyes and cocked its head quizzically.

“Attack me!” Drizaghar shouted. The reptilian complied, raising his maul high in the air to strike down the necromancer. “And now to send it back,” he muttered. His palms turned inward and he focused once more. Instantly, flames lashed from his fingers and entwined together in a ball. The fireball grew quickly until it was nearly four feet wide. The heat radiating from the ball of fire was like a wall and the undead beast stumbled back in surprise. Shouting incomprehensible words, the dark elf hurled the ball at his reanimated slave.

The undead creature’s dried flesh ignited instantly and soon the powdery bones were aflame. In less than a minute, the zombie lived no more; a pile of ash marked where it last stood. Drizaghar panted from the exertion, but turned to face his host once more.

“If that isn’t enough,” he commented. “Then let me try to convince you one last time.” Boldly, he stepped forward and grasped the arm of the ninja. Immediately, he unleashed his power of necrosis, draining her lifeforce for as long as he had contact. A few seconds into the assault, he let go and stepped back. Her face was pale and her eyes wide, weather from fear and anger or some other emotion, he couldn’t tell. He had given it his all, it was left in her hands to decide.