With Knowledge Comes Power... Part Five
Ambassador Rylan sat amongst the hustle and bustle of the Maiden?s Fancy during its prime hours of the evening, though this evening was a bit different. The Ambassador had arrived after the Apokolipz had left earlier. The place had recovered from the slaughter that took place hours earlier, and was now resuming its festivities in the upper areas; the downstairs areas were still being cleaned. The Ambassador sat and listened to Ratraz, the troll bouncer for the upstairs, tell him the tale over a few rounds of ale, all the while, Rylan took mental note of the details. Obviously, he was hearing it all from a troll, who himself heard pieces from a vomiting ogre, a hysterical stripper, the shadow knight guardsmen, who didn?t say much, and those patrons that fled early on in the event. Once Ratraz had concluded his telling, Rylan sat back, contemplating. Lost in thought, he failed to notice the change in the bouncer?s demeanor.

Ratraz stood, his eyes narrowing. ?Its him,? he whispered under his breath, taking a step back.

?Ambassador Rylan...? came the voice from the doorway, full of cold malice.

?Royal Emissary Rylan,? Ratraz corrected, and then the troll cowered before the gaze, moving behind the bar.

?Indeed...? Calm to the point of threatening.

Rylan turned in his seat to view the speaker. The Ambassador was obviously dressed in wealthy, noble attire, and, as a man of fine taste and fashion, he knew rich clothing when he saw it. The man before him, though shrouded in wisps of living shadow that seemed to cling to him with its tendrils, was dressed in very expensive threads and valuable jewelry, not to mention they were of obviously magical nature. Only the fact that Rylan was such a pompous ass allowed his mind to absorb the other man?s attire before falling victim to his eyes.

Ice blue, almost clear, orbs of dancing death looked at him with both vacancy and wanton violence, like the distant look of a total killer, looking into his soul and only seeing another useless victim, another corpse waiting to fall. They promised death... eventually. A lifetime living in Neriak among the insane noblemen could not possibly prepare him for that unflinching, soul-bearing gaze. In the span of seconds, he felt like a claustrophobic child in the fit of panic from being locked in a footlocker.

The Apokolipz stepped to the Ambassador, leaving another trail of fresh blood on the floor of the tavern room as he walked in. Behind the necromancer came his ever-present minion, his skeletal warrior slave, twin blades of flaming steel in its bony hands. The undead scanned the taproom as it walked, stopping beside its master.

?Yes,? assured the necromancer, addressing Rylan, ?I am here for you...?

'...the King and Queen ordered it...'

'...he workss for the King...'

The room was silent, pierced only by the sound of a mug falling and shattering on the floor, which brought the skeleton warrior?s attention.

Surprisingly, Ratraz spoke up from behind the bar. ?Can?t kill ?im, bud. He?z got protekshun,? the troll warned.

The skeletal warior immediately rushed Ratraz, leaping over the bar, flaming swords swinging. The Apokolipz ignored it and focused still on the Ambassador. ?I know you work for King Naythox Thex in some capacity, worm. I want information.? Screams followed by meaty thuds and sizzling blood sounded in the background, accompanied by more screams as people fled the Maiden?s Fancy once more. The necromancer never wavered, his voice low, and the Ambassador never flinched, hearing every word. ?I know you know things I want to know. At the very least, you know ?who? knows. Now, I will ask this one question, and you will answer it. If you lie to me at all, either in the answer or in your knowledge of the answer, you will die a slow and painful death, followed by an eternity of spiritual torment from which you will never be released...?

Ambassador Rylan gulped once, his crimson eyes wide, and nodded for the Apokolipz to continue, meanwhile soiling himself...