With Knowledge Comes Power... Part Two
It had been days since the skeletal warrior had moved from its post, and no one dared to disturb it. Its glowing green eyes stared down the short hallway and into the dancing room of the Maiden?s Fancy, and its twin flaming swords were enough to dissuade anyone from investigating it. The undead guardian even drove off one of the shadow knight guards common in Neriak?s Third Gate, who immediately warned everyone else to leave it be for the moment.

But, he returned, and this time, he had reinforcements. Four of the Third Gate shadow knights moved into the Maiden?s Fancy, weapons drawn. The patrons and staff members of the establishment immediately giving them plenty of space. They moved down into the dancing room below, forming their own path. As they went for the back hallway, Spice, the ogre bouncer, stepped up to them, blocking their path.

?Wuteva joo wanna do, joo dun wanna be messin wit dat,? she told them outright, motioning towards the skeleton warrior visible down the short hallway. ?Weez dinnint call joo heer, an weez dun want no trubble.?

The guardsman?s red eyes glared at the ogre through the slits of his helmet. ?Step aside, ?ogre?,? he commanded, raising his sword threateningly.

Spice only shrugged. ?Dis yer fooner? fewner? dis yer ded-day, iffen joo wan it,? she told him, stepping out of their way. Her meaty hand came up deftly to grab Mare as she screamed.

?Noo!? the scantily clad dancer shouted. ?Don?t disturb him! You mustn?t! He?ll kill you all!? She sobbed and wept and screamed something incoherent.

As the patrons quickly fled up the stairs, one of the guardsmen looked to the one who had spoken, who was also the original shadow knight from earlier that night. ?Who exactly is in there?? he asked.

The others only shrugged.

?Datz da Appokkalips,? Spice stated flatly, her black eyes grinning evilly.

?The Apokolipz?!? blurted one of the other shadow knights, his voice louder and obviously worried by the name.

The first scoffed. ?I don?t care if it is King Thex himself; no one attacks the shadow guards of the Third Gate and gets away with it!? And, with that, he charged into the hallway, reading his weapon for a swing.

'...rise, the Apokolipz...'

?Attacking, master.? The skeletal warrior, who returned the charge and met him halfway, stopped him at the entrance to the hall. One of its flaming swords quickly rose to block the oncoming long sword, while its other flaming blade backswept under the guard?s raised arm, slashing into the armor?s underarm weak spot.

As the knight screamed in pain, his three comrades ran in to assist him against the undead warrior, but, due to the skeleton?s positioning in the thin hall, only two could actively attack it. Both swung, none connected.

'...the time has come...'

The skeletal warrior kicked the first back, bringing up its weapons to block the oncoming blades, its body obviously moving in ways no living creature could. It pushed up their blades and slammed a shoulder into the helmet of the guard on the right, stunning him momentarily. It then slapped the third?s blade aside, slashing at his exposed wrist with its other flaming weapon.

The last guard rushed in through an opening created by the screaming guardsmen, his weapon slashing into the undead guardian, glancing off the skeleton?s arm, notching it.

The skeleton swiveled, one weapon sweeping around and into the newest assailant?s exposed side, while its other weapon stabbed up under the helmet of the stunned shadow knight, puncturing his throat, sending out a spray of blood.

Spice, who still held the screaming Teir?Dal dancer behind her and out of harm?s way, began to chuckle evilly, as most ogres do when witnessing violent bloodshed. Suddenly, her mirth ceased, her black eyes widened, and her gaping maw of a smile slacked as her mouth opened.

Mare?s door opened.

One of the guardsmen, who was cradling his injured wrist, raised his offhand to the undead warrior, a flood of black energy instantly formed around his hand and reached out to envelope the skeleton before him, causing its bones to crack and split.

Another, whose weapon arm was clenched to his bleeding side, switched his weapon to his off hand in time to block an incoming swipe of one of the skeleton?s flaming blades.

The original assailant was bleeding in gushes, his crippled weapon arm also clenched to his side, blood rushing from his armpit, was now sitting in one of the many empty chairs, trying futilely to stop the bleeding.

The last shadow knight only lay in a gurgling heap on the freshly wetted floor.

?Who... DARES?!? came the powerful voice from the opened doorway. A lone Teir?Dal stepped into the other end of the hallway, rich black robes and grey cloak enshrouded an glinging shadows. He held a metal-pronged staff in one of his runed leather covered hands, and a thick glowing shield in the other. Bone white hair flowed back over his shoulders, an intricate ebony circlet keeping it in place. His eyes, cold, ice-blue, and full of malice, glared at the battle taking place.

'...yesss... you are our'ss sstill...'

The shadow knights froze; the skeletal minion took a final swipe into one of them before stepping back. All was quiet, even Mare had grown silent.

?Calming down, master.?

The necromancer stepped closer to the dancing room, his deadly gaze glancing from knight to knight, inspecting the damage his minion had done. ?Who dares attack my minion while I rested?? One of the knights was obviously dead, two of the others crawled away from the necromancer who approached.

Thick words of necromantic magic were spoken by the dark necromancer creating a black aura that enveloped his skeletal guardian, its cracked bones sealing and becoming whole once more, the damage done to it evidently healed. He returned his attention to the two knights cowering before him. ?Who?!? he shouted at them.

The two knights continued to crawl on their backs to the stairs that led up, obviously not interested in any part of a fight. Each left their own trail of blood, one more than the other.

The necromancer stepped out into the dancing room, his cold eyes focusing on the ogre woman, Spice. ?Who...?? he grumbled at her.

The ogre pointed to the knight who sat nearby, chuckling as she did, knowing that she was about to witness something that she would rarely see in her lifetime. ?Dat wun.?

Slowly, the Teir?Dal necromancer turned his unblinking gaze to the shadow knight guardsman who sat, still trying to stop the flow of blood that hemorrhaged from his underarm. The guard?s helmet rose, as his own red eyes met that gaze, and he froze, like a lone halfling under the attack of an ogre warlord.

'...ssmell the blood...'

'...Hate shall guide you...'

The necromancer stepped closer to the table, the hem of his robes brushing through pools of fresh blood on the floor. His enraged gaze stayed on the knight, his staff making a thudding sound as it came to rest, and his skeletal minion steeping beside him, malevolently.

Spice, being an ogre, had obviously witnessed some disgusting, cruel, and evil acts in her time among her own race and among the Teir?Dal, but what she had seen this night caused her to unwillingly vomit on the spot and haunted her dreams for many years to come.

"I am the Apokolipz..."