Kurtz stood in the meadow, his sword drawn. He stared at the animated piles of bone that lumbered towards him, the shook of seeing them appear causing him to hesitate. If he wasn’t quick enough, the skeletons would easily rip him apart, he knew. He braced his legs and prepared to lung forward as he had been taught.

In an instant he sprang into motion, his body’s forward momentum carrying his sword completely through the spine of the first one before it could counter-attack. Without stopping, he then turned his body and brought the blade of his sword straight down through the shoulder of the next monster, knocking it down. Before the next movement in the series, the third skeleton brought it’s cold, clawed hand up and shot it at the former stable boys throat. Instead of grabbing it in a choke hold, it continued forward, the force knocking Kurtz off his feet, sputtering to the ground ten feet away.

As soon as it’s foe was on the ground the skeleton froze, and then began to seemingly melt into a pile of dust, sinking into the ground. “Too Slow Slave, Perform The Steps Again.” A dark, charismatic voice pealed. “How many times*hack* do we…have to do this?” Kurtz said, picking himself off the ground, clutching his throat as he coughed. “Until It Is Perfect. Without The Proper Motivation, You Can’t Call Upon Our Power Without Shutting Down, Slave. So You Must Make Up For Your Lack Of Magic With Physical Prowess. As You Also Lack In This, We Will Have To Teach You Through Harsh Methods. Our Traitorous Children Will Have Noticed That We Have Left Our Tomb, The Seal On Our Phylactory, The Coffin Holding The Remains Of Our Mortal Form, Broken By You.” The image of a jeweled skull flew into view.

“My Wayward Charges Will Try And Stop You From Gaining Strength And Power, And So Will Send Their Minions Against Us, Unwilling To Risk Their Own Safety By Destroying You In Person And Exposing Themselves To One Of The Other Factions. As You Are Now, Even Their Pawns Will Provide Sufficient In Exterminating You, Slave. Now, Perform The Steps Again.” The skull of Namenth’Al winked out of existence once more, signaling that the conversation was now over. The three skeletal beings rose once again from the ground in the same positions as before.

Three months prior, Kurtz had been kidnapped by a trio of brigands, forced to sacrifice and suffer through deadly traps in order to allow the bandits through safely. Upon reaching what they had all thought was a treasure room, Kurtz had been mortally wounded by a skeleton disguised as Namenth’al, one of the most powerful necromancers to exist. Upon destroying the monster, the surviving brigand set off the last trap, the treasure actually being a slime-like creature that could disguise itself. Rather than allow the slime to devour him, Kurtz chose to fall down a garbage chute, finding the true tomb of the Lich at the bottom. Upon releasing the spirit of the Necromancer, Kurtz became infused with a portion of the beings own magic, at the cost of only truly being half alive. Drawing on the powers of the lich too often caused Kurtz to enter a lethargic state, where his emotions and will to move diminished, called The Torpor.

Kurtz sighed, unwilling to push the matter further and readied himself in the same charging stance. The pain from the training was intense, his body aching from the hours of repeating the same motions. He saw the value in the spirits words truly, but the speed at which the ArchLich demanded success was daunting.

Upon the next repetition of the form, the boy was once more knocked to the ground on the third swing again. “Disappointing. Your Movements Slow, Slave. In A True Battle, You Would Be Dead Dozens Of Times Over. That Is Unacceptable. We Shall Have To Ponder On How To Correct This.”

“A Break would be a good start, I’ve been out here for hours. My joints are on fire, I’m hungry, thirsty, and sorely need to rest.” Kurtz said once again picking himself off the ground, dusting the dirt and soil off his rear. He inspected his blade to make sure it hadn’t been damaged from the heavy use.

“Bah! Food? Water? Sleep? These Very Things Are The Reasons I Began My Pursuit Of The Arts. You Slept Last Night, Ate Two Days Ago, These Are Not Enough? You Need To Pursue A Mortal Victim, Slave. Drain Them Of Their Life And Soul, Feed The Void Inside Yourself. That Will Allow You To Disregard Such Nuisances. You Are Not Homely, Woo A Maid, Feed While She Sleeps.”

The thought of killing an innocent person just to make himself more powerful was too ghastly to contemplate. He was steadfast in his decision to rot as a vegetable before taking the life of an innocent person, unwilling to abuse the second chance he’d been given after nearly dying in the tomb.

“I’m not going to lure some poor girl to her death just so I can have lunch. We’re just going to have to slow down on the training so I can properly rest between sessions.” Kurtz with mirthless demeanor. He rubbed the gurgling beast he had in place of a stomach, and began to walk in the direction of the village he’d been staying in.