Nanarie and The Apokolipz, Re-United
{poApokolipz}

For many weeks, months, the Apokolipz had been missing from the eyes of his Housemates. During this time, some of them had heard the stories of bloodshed that filtered throughout Neriak. Guards, assassins, even one of the Lodge’s masters had been accosted, yet would claim nothing. Most of Neriak’s dwellers did not make the connection; in fact, only few really would. And then, there were the horrors found throughout Norrath. Grizzly massacres of flesh and blood where once dwelled small villages and communities of the light-lovers, random victims of death who were unfortunate enough to fall into the notice of Innoruuk’s Chosen. The Karanas, Greater Feydark, Firiona Vie, Butcherblock, Misty Thicket... all felt the chaotic wrath of Death... all left as ashes and stains on the earth, examples to those who would think themselves safe in their light dwelling world...

The Apokolipz drifted in and out of his subconscious, his keen mind filtering through all of his newfound memories, searching them for any information he may have missed. The King and Queen assassinated his parents, he knew that. The assassin’s soul spoke much of it after his death, and Ambassador Rylan wisely explained all he knew rather than die to the hands of the Apokolipz. It seemed that Vladdik’s parents had both stumbled upon a plot, one that would rip apart the already unstable factions that ruled the city. A plot that even the Apokolipz almost finished.

His father was an officer in the Indigo Brotherhood; his mother was a necromancer in the Lodge of the Dead. These two organizations have never gotten along well for one major reason: the King of Neriak, Naythox Thex, is leader of the Indigo Brotherhood and the Queen, Cristianos Thex, rules the Lodge of the Dead... they are constantly trying to have each other assassinated so that the other would have total control of the city. Vladdik’s parents stumbled across one of these assassination attempts. Oddly, it was not by one or the other, but by the ruler of the cleric guild, Perrir Zexus, who was supposedly sworn and loyal to the King and also tied to the Queen through religion. This was during the time that Innoruuk had turned from the Teir’Dal and created another race on a distant shore. The Arch Priest knew that the King and Queen were part of the problem.

Vladdik's mother decided to warn the Queen, and his father warned the King. Each, the King and Queen, decided to prepare for the assassination attempt, but not to stop it from affecting the other, so the Queen protected herself but not the King and visa-versa. After the attempt totally failed, only the King, Queen, and Arch Priest Perrir Zexus knew about the attempts... well, and Vladdik's parents. Considering that they found out about it, from some means yet unknown, then they were somehow deemed a threat to the political system of Neriak, for they knew of a failed power struggle by the supposedly neutral priests of Innoruuk. In the aftermath, all seemed unchanged in Neriak's hierarchy of the 3 guilds, and the power is still publicly divided equally between the King and Queen, but Vladdik's parents were assassinated, their existence wiped from the records... and Vladdik's memory wiped of his past, threat neutralized... until now.

This information alone could cause a third faction to spring up in the political system of Neriak and possibly bring about Neriak's downfall through civil war, especially with the trolls living within the city looking for any weakness to prey upon within the political system of Neriak...

The Apokolipz also knew that these events were related to his rebirth. It was no mere coincidence that the son of these two was also the Chosen One, “one whose heart had been tainted by True Love”. That was why the assassins let Vladdik live, in fact, ordered to let him live. The child of those who were most loyal, tainted by the feelings he had felt for... her...

The necromancer had “awoken” days before, finally rising from his “slumber”. The carnage of the past months had served several purposes. The deaths of the betrayers, the light-lovers, and the weak were only a part of it. An outlet of his wrath, fury, rage, and Hate was another. But, there was also another reason... The Apokolipz had learned many things from his newfound memories... yes, indeed...

He had left his quarters, which he had remained cloistered the past few days, and used one of the Keeps many portals to enter Neriak, all the while leaving a fresh trail of blood in his wake. The blood seemed to come from the bottom hem of his midnight black robes and of his charcoal gray cloak, blood, that if tasted, would have been noted to contain a mixture of five races: dwarven, halfling, human, and that of the wood and high elves…

And so this trail picked up again on the other side of the portal in Neriak, within the dark recesses of one of the many alleys in Neriak’s Third Gate district. From there, the Apokolipz strode through the once grand city of the Teir’Dal, seeking another portal of his House. As he walked, those who crossed his path averted their gazes and stepped aside or simply ran from his dark form. Death walked the streets of Neriak once again, and the souls of the damned followed him.

But, as he strode through the familiar streets of his births, his mind remembered visions of their creation. Memories not of Vladdik but of the many incarnations of the Apokolipz. His essence, his life-force, had existed for eons, nearly as long as the Teir’Dal race itself. The Apokolipz was not just a Teir’Dal... he knew that now. He knew everything his many lives knew, each of which with their own rebirth... but this was the first time he had known it all.

His determined stride paused and his head turned to the side to better focus on what had caught his attention. Coldly, his ice-blue eyes looked up to the window, her window, an action he had done dozens of times before. This time, there was no “flashback”, no heart aching memory from the life of Vladdik. It was Nanarie’s old house, and it had changed yet again. The front door, which he, himself, had left in shambles, had been replaced, the once grimy and cracked windows had also been repaired and cleaned, and the top window, her window, now showed the dim light of some sort inside, possibly from a candle. The light seemed to move as he watched, as though carried, so the necromancer knew that someone was within, possibly a new occupant or some petty burglar, but, more than likely, it was her, the woman he owed for giving him back all of the Apokolipz’s lost knowledge...

Of all of the beings on Norrath, the Teir’Dal were his brethren. They were of His blood and therefore in His grace. Some were betrayers and would die for their actions, that much was a given, but most would follow the Will of Innoruuk. Of all of the Teir’Dal, there was one to whom he, the Apokolipz, now owed everything...

In a flitter of darkness and shadow, the Apokolipz stood at her door, a trail of fresh blood behind. With slow determination, he rapped upon the darkwood portal; three loud thumps, as slow as his heartbeat.....

====================================================
{poNanarie}

The house remained dark, the only light was what danced on the top of the melting stick of wax in her gloved hand. The flickering light of the tall candle danced about her plain face.

She had been here for hours... countless hours. A dark, quiet and familiar place to think. Her initial intent when she first started revisiting this old home after her return to the Keep, was to find clues to her lineage. Clues to who her father was. Slowly, in that small quest, the shack returned to its old self. Everything had become just as it was from her childhood, from the drapes to the furniture.

Her gloved fingers wrapped around the candlestick. Wax melting and cooling on the leather. She had spent hours in her mother's room this night. Searching and cleaning. Hoping to find something to lead her to who he was. Frustrated at coming up empty handed. So, she wandered her room, looking for nothing in particular, just entertaining her thoughts as she wandered. Looking through drawers, examining old odds and ends to her past. Even her old vanity table had cause to put a halt in her step. Now, restored to its beautiful onyx luster, no longer covered and dulled by the blanket of dust that once inhabited this house. She pulled the old cushioned seat out and sat. Her own blood red eyes staring back at her. Her face remained plain and without her old youthful beauty. She set the candle in a bronze holder on her vanity and removed her black leather gloves to reveal badly scarred knuckles. She unbound the ponytail and watched with a visible annoyance as her hair fell down her back. She reluctantly picked up the old comb and ran it through her hair. What do jalil find so enjoyable about such tasks, she thought as the comb got caught repeatedly in tangles and knots. What did usstan find enjoyable about this? Time passed quickly, as again, thoughts of who she was and who she had become took over. Absentmindedly she set the comb aside and took in her own reflection. Her once unkempt ivory hair, constantly pulled away from her face, now lay silky, thick and beautiful over her shoulders. around her plain face and down her midnight blue tunic. For a moment, brief and breathtaking she saw the Lady she had been, looking back at her.

One loud pound sounded, jolting her from her old reflection. She shook her head in disapproval. This is naut ussa, she thought to herself. Then came a second. ~THUMP~ and she turned quickly, one ivory brow raised. She rose and with a swift movement she swiped the candle by its bronze holder. Her chainmail greaves ringing in her quick strides down the stairs. ~THUMP~ a third pound. She reached to the small of her back lifting the waist length hem of her midnight blue tunic and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her dagger. It wasn't often that she had visitors, especially here. Vinlaael wasn't likely to come here. She wasn't expecting to see him until much later, and away from here, that was certain. Perhaps, he had a change of plans.

The door slowly opened, her left hand still grasping the hilt of her dagger. Her eyes found the dark form of a male and all time seemed to stop. Every muscle in her body ceased in movement. Her hand paused, the dagger half-drawn from her waistband. Shock and confusion decorated her face. Her eyes the very shade of dry blood began to swirl with various shades of red. He was familiar, yet not so familiar. His looks had changed. Instead of his once usual unkempt hair, falling in matted tresses along his emotionless face. He was now well groomed. His hair combed neatly away from his face and he even donned the dark robes of his trade. All this taken in within moments. She forced herself to blink, thinking that what she saw before her was nothing more than the tricks of her mind. If it wasn't for his bone white hair, if it had remained its true shade of ebony after his 'rebirth' , she would have truly thought Vladdik stood before her.

=====================================================

((---Apokolipz---))


For two beings to be as entwined as they, the Apokolipz had only ever spoken to Nanarie once before, odd as that may seem. The woman who now stood before him seemed as different from the one he had met before as he knew he must seem to her. Her eyes, raging seas of blood during their last conversation so many months ago, now were filled with confusion; even the shades of red within swirled, not knowing which emotion to show. Everything about her seemed more like the Nanarie from his now familiar past and less like the knight of darkness he, the Apokolipz, had met.

The moment seemed to last an eternity.

As they stood and stared at each other, unblinking, his mind lost itself in her presence. Nanarie. She who followed him to House D’Orakaa in search of her lost love, only to find a shell of the man she once knew. But now, here he was, finally face to face with her, with no distractions, no interruptions from the spirits of the damned… and all he could do was think of how beautiful she was…

A memory flitted through his mind in an instant, and, just as quickly, it was gone.

----'...ssshe sservess Innoruuk...' the whispers had told him long ago.

The Apokolipz had raised an eye at that. "You said she was a deceiver, setting a trap for me?" he questioned in a hushed, coarse whisper of his own.

'...yesss, her trap is her heart, her heart deceivess you both...'----

It was a split second, but enough to snap him out of the odd haze he was in. His icy eyes blinked, ending the trance for them both. For the first time since his rebirth, the Apokolipz felt his heart thumping, his skin flushed. Nanarie also blinked, as if she were caught in the same ‘distortion’. Their eyes remained locked. Fire and ice.

The spirits remained silent.

“Evening, m’Lady Nanarie,” he greeted her, his voice smooth, his tone low. He bowed slightly to her, courtly even, his eyes remaining fixed on hers. He did not weild the ancient staff and shield he usually carried; they were still put away in one of his many magical containers. He only wore the rich midnight black robes and charcoal gray cloak that have now become familiar to him.

Her expression was still a mixture of shock and disbelief, her jaw slack, silvery strands of light enveloping that dark, heart-shaped face. Though the muscles of her profession were easily visible along her jaw, his eyes still saw the soft beauty of her.

With the door’s edge still in hand, she stepped back, away from the door and off to the side, gesturing for him to enter yet remaining silent. Her mind seemed to be visibly ticking now, thoughts filtering through her too fast to grasp them.

The Apokolipz took one step through the doorway, the sound of wet dragging entering his ears. For the first time since she had opened the door, he took his gaze from her to look towards his feet… and the fresh blood that emanated from the bottom hem of his robes and cloak. His ice blue eyes rose again to gaze upon Nanarie’s angelic features. “M’Lady,” he spoke courtly and clear, “my apologies, but…” and his eyes moved for her to look.

Home Again
(( This entry was taken from an actual RP thread between Nanarie and Yllaena. Home Again))

Quiet strides brought the Knightess past the front gate and into the Keep of House D'Orakaa. The Guards looked to her a bit curiously, wondering if she had returned this time to stay. They had seen her frequently, come in only to leave a few hours later and be gone for weeks. The look on her face gave them their answer.

She took a long look around her as she took in the familiar sights of her home. It had been night when she finally returned and all was quiet within their Keep's walls. Rat's scurried across the stone and between her strides as she made her way toward her bedchamber. As silent as he could, her minion followed. Silently she crept through the halls toward the room she had not seen in months.

Truthfully the time she had spent away was totally lost. At times it only felt like days, others it felt like months. Then now as she walked through the once familiar halls it felt like years.

She fumbled through her bag for her key and lifted it hesitantly to the lock on her door. A loud resounding creak echoed through the empty hall and she flinched and held the door at a crack. Her head snapped around to gaze down each end of the hall hoping no one was coming. She looked to her minion with a stern look and she cocked her head toward her room. Once he took his first wobbly step she pushed the door open to lessen the loud creak and shut it as quickly as they entered. Her back fell against the door and she slid to the floor, burying her face in her knees and arms.

Her room was very unfamiliar to her now. All filled with countless nights of pacing with memory and rage. She stood and removed her armor, placing it upon its specially designed display rack.

Her slave had followed her lead and hung her blade on the wall and her bow and arrows on their own rack. A rush of fatigue waved over her body as the weight of her plate was taken from her shoulders. She removed the hand woven locket of hair that held her own high upon her head and placed it on her bureau. She stepped into her bathing chambers only to emerge an hour later in her long nightly tunic and dripping long wet hair. The huge bed, donned in black and red called to her tired muscles. And she didn't refuse.

~

The Next day



She had woke up forgetting her surroundings. A quick hand reached under her pillow to find nothing. As the sleep slowly left her she realized where she was and let out a regretful sigh. Why had she chose to come back? Why now, it seemed much to soon. She donned her Ebon tunic and scalemail greaves and swiped her blade.

With fiery eyes she looked to her minion. "Take ussta armor to the smiths, have them repair the dents and give them this in advance. Usstan will pick it up myself when it has been finished. Find ussa when dos have done what Usstan ask." She tossed the skeleton a bag of coin and walked out of her room.

She walked to the front gates and stood contemplating whether to hunt or just head back to her private sanctuary. Something felt different here. She recalled her first visit here and how she felt the very same she did now. Confused and whether it was the right choice. She stepped to the side and leaned against a nearby wall waiting for her pet to find her. Now as she slid to the ground she relived that confusion. Only due to the reason for her absence. She hadn't seen or talked to anyone in weeks. After her encounter with the House sneak she had been reluctant to return through the front doors of the Tavern. Reluctant still. She knew there would be many about today and was even more surprised that she chose to sit in clear view. Her minion came within minutes and fell to a crumbling heap of bones as she uttered the command, "sit."

She placed a black gloved palm upon the skull of her slave and tapped each finger in thought. No one had come about yet. It was still early. She hadn't wished to be seen yet.. at least not by 'him'. But she had no where she could go in peace, to relax. Her bedchamber needed to be redone to her new found comfort and her old home had eyes lurking around. No doubt those same eyes lurked about her now. Crawling the walls and hiding amoung the shadows. So she sat there in her contemplations. The Halfling was her only choice. But for this moment she sat in her solitude. She would have to enjoy it... what was left of it. As she stared into the stone floor with her chin resting upon her knees and her fingers continuing to tap upon the skull of her slave she could hear footsteps and the ruffling of a robe drawing closer. Her solitude was sure to end soon.

With Knowledge Comes Power...
{poApokolipz ~ A continuation of sorts for my post A Last Resort.}

The Apokolipz strode into the tavern, as he had done on so many nights. It had been several days since he had visited, mostly due to preoccupation of his free time being taken up by Lady Eire. He went to his usual table, which seemed to still go empty, even though he had not sat there recently. It had been almost exactly two weeks since he had sat there, talking to Nimotah and Ejhin, and most of that time had been spent around either Nimotah while hunting or Eire in a more relaxed manner, if ever there was such a thing for the necromancer. He sat down in his old chair, his back to the wall, the shadows of the overhead stairwell enveloping him, his mind drifting on recent memories of the past week.

“Ahem,” came the loud sound of Brakk, the minotaur, clearing his throat. The brute, having gotten the necromancer’s attention, placed a dark bottle of elven blood wine on the table before turning to leave the Apokolipz to his thoughts.

Cold, empty eyes watched the large humanoid walk back to the bar, and then focused on the bottle. Uncorking it, he raised the bottle to his lips. It had been a few days since he drank of his favorite wine, and his large gulps showed it.

…and then the darkness came.

~Memories flowed through his mind, but not his own past deeds and experiences… no, they were ‘his’ memories... from birth to childhood was a split second blur of memory, the images and thoughts bombarding the necromancer’s mind.~

The Apokolipz gasped, his cold eyes wide.

‘...GET UP...’ The spirits commanded.

The necromancer rose to his feet, the half drank bottle of elven blood wine falling to the floor as he rose.

‘...WALK TO THE DOOR...’

The necromancer subconsciously followed the orders given by the spirits, like an automaton, walking to the door of the tavern and walking through it. Seeing as most of the patrons usually gave him plenty of space and most refused to look him in the eyes, no one seemed to notice his shocked expression.

His eyes did not see what was before him; if they did, it did not register in his mind. His mind only saw the flood of images and thoughts that returned to him in the space of breaths.

~More memories poured into his mind, now of Vladdik’s childhood to adolescence. Too fast to grasp now, his mind seemed to only acknowledge that it was happening.~

The Apokolipz staggered in mid step.

‘...CALL YOUR MINION...’

The necromancer leaned on his staff. “...come...” his whispered voice beckoned. His eyes were still wide, though downcast.

A skeletal warrior rushed from the nearby alleyway, twin flaming longswords in bony hands. It immediately searched for an assailant.

‘...SOMEWHERE SAFE...’ Even though the Apokolipz was mentally incapacitated, the spirits strived to keep him safe, though they had to focus and scream for his mind to follow their commands.

“...take me somewhere safe...” the necromancer whispered to his undead slave, who thrust one sword into its ribcage to free a skeletal hand and took its master under one arm, leading him through Neriak. During the journey, the undead guardian slew fourteen rats, drove off three children, and even made one of the city guards back away, who immediately opened Neriak’s Third Gates for them to pass.

Meanwhile, the memories continued to invade the necromancer, causing him to groan in discomfort, oblivious to his surroundings. Everything, every minute detail of every moment of Vladdik’s life, and subsequent death, flashed through the Apokolipz’s mind, from the moment of his birth to the last dying breath he gasped laying in the Ultricle.

His undead minion deposited his master on Mare’s bed in the Maiden’s Fancy, down in a back room of the basement. It then turned to face the Teir’Dal stripper.

Mare stepped back, her hands raised in a show of weakness. “No problems here. Let him sleep it off just fine,” she said in defense, stepping backwards out of her room.

Spice, the ogre bouncer woman who kept an eye on the dancers was also in the short hallway. Her meaty hand grasped Mare by the shoulder and pulled her quickly back behind her. Mare was their prized dancer, she’d be damned if she let something happen to her. “Leeve ‘im be, gurly,” she told the frail girl.

Mare’s puppy eyes looked up to the ogre’s. “He needs help,” she stated, almost whimpering.

The skeletal warrior stepped through the doorway, closing it behind it. Then, it removed the flaming sword from its ribcage and turned to face the ogre, both swords raised, but it did not advance.

Spice pushed the girl back into the danceroom, her black eyes looking back over her shoulder at the skeletal guardian. “Himz needz rest, gurly. Meez notz gunna git joo or meez kilt ova dis, jus leeve himz beez fer now.”

A Last Resort
((this was taken from a thread between Nanarie and Ejhin on the House D'Orakaa boards within The Butchered Halfling. This post is the last entry to that thread If you want to indulge yourself in their entire encounter then be my guest and click the link. A Game for a Cheshire Cat & Crimson Lady ))


Nanarie could feel the studying vermilion eyes of Ejhin. Everything she did, said and tried not to do was being observed. She couldn't handle the constant eyes upon her, searching and reading. It was invasive. She didn't see the point in talking about it. It only made her angry. She was trying to avoid that. Her eyes flickered slightly in her annoyance.

Her finger idly tapped the table and occasionally traced its grain. Her eyes moved from her finger to Ejhin at times. Her mind was absent of words and her body was tired still from the past few weeks. She still sat there slouched with her legs stretched out.

‘Auch, me darlin’ gel…sure ya be hiding somethin’. " Nanarie's chin popped up from where it was resting on the plate of her chest. Her eyes shot a red glare to the sneak and her mouth opened in an attempt of a rebuttal just as the petite hand raised to stall her. "Now, now, now befer ya are to getting’ yerself all worked up and reachin’ fer a weapon, ya might as well know…it’s a good as written across yer face me gel. Anyone wit an eye can see.’

Nanarie bit back her words only briefly. She already knew that Ejhin had much to say. "Tell me then Ejhin, what is it that is practically written on my face?"

Nanarie sat, silent and listened. Why was her departure so interesting to this sneak? She had paused briefly and something in her features seemed to flicker then with an almost unnoticeable nod of her head her sneaky eyes turn back onto Nanarie. Something told her to brace herself for what was to come. She knew she wouldn't like it.

‘Hmmmm…well I knows ya been asking after a man I be knowin…one Apokolipz. Yer done gone an hired the Ebon Mask to find some things out fer ya. Ye been asking after histories, an peoples and things that sometimes be best left alone me gel. But ya have been asking, an it be bound ta reach mine ears.’

Her eyes blinked. Was Ejhin just perceptive or just plain nosey? It seemed a lot of both. Nanarie never thought anyone would have found out one of the main reasons she had left. Now Ejhin knew. The sneakiest and most devious one of the lot. She had an alterior motive for this visit. But she already seemed to know what she was up to so what was the point of this? Blood red eyes watch her as she takes a swig form her drink and swipes a froglok leg from her plate and takes a bite.

Nanarie pulled in her tapping finger into her fist. Not only did she find what she thought were Apokolipz's footsteps but now she had come to know that another had lurked within her sanctuary. Her eyebrows pinched. She was really disliking this visit. She had come in here thinking to enjoy a meal and small talk. Now the true reason for the uneasy feeling she had before she knew who was awaiting her within the booth was acknowledged.

Well he’s been followin’ ya, ya gots him quite curious. Ya see he dont ‘member ya me gel. But he’s sore puzzled and intrigued with ya. Thou …an I be quoting him now…’

She already knew he didn't remember her. But if he doesn't remember her then why was he in her home? Puzzled and intrigued? Then Ejhin's voice changed to the sound of death. Flat and unemotional.

"...Innoruuk wanted the Apokolipz to be born, and now I am here...and the Father wanted 'her' to be as she is, brother...though, lately, my mind has been spilling with the memories of another... " Her posture straightened, a clear and unhidden reaction of her interest. Her back sat straight against the chair. Her fists relaxed. He was remembering. Brother? Who had he confided in? "... of a beautiful girl with crystal white eyes..." Her right hand instinctively went to eyes, briefly touching them with her fingertips. Remembering the beauty her eyes once were. Vladdik had told her they were like the stars. Her damaged eyes fell to her lap. Her hand curled as Ejhin continued. "... through the eyes of the man who loved her..." Those last words pained her. She didn't even care to hide it anymore. What was the use. Vladdik was trying to show the Apokolipz. Everything within her swirled in hurt and regret. Love and hate.

‘Apokolipz an I been followin’ ya me gel. Now there be nothin’ yer able ta do about it. So yez best just accept it. He an I been noticin’ ya come in every once in a while to restock and gather time at yer house. Time ya might ‘ave spent bathin’ and eatin’, but well, yer ta do as ya will. But he’s been asking more an more questions…he spends time with that young rampager Nimotah. Now there’s a right un, he is.’

It was Nimotah. He was his 'confidant' so to speak. Apokolipz and Ejhin follow her every move now. She was right. She could do nothing. Would do nothing. And yet another comment of her hygiene. If she truly spent time in her home she would have noticed that she had bathed. Just not recently.Nanarie's mind had been focused on other things.

‘But how I hear words between dem two, to my affairs an none o’ yers. But to say, he’s most concerned with ya. Yer plaugin’ his thoughts…well almost as much as those pesky voices. He wonders, he does…'

What words could those two share about me?

A chuckle escaped with a smirk. She was causing him as much of a hard time as those retched pests he has as companions. Her face flickered again and his voice returned.

"...the...'spirits'...become more insistent when Nan... she is around... worse than before... I would not risk talking to her myself...whatever she is doing has them... worried...yes....talk to her, follow her, just do not hurt her..."

Her eyes went wide at the request from the Apokolipz and she sat up and placed both forearms, crossed at the wrists, on the table. Her body leaning forward in disbelief at the words Ejhin spoke with his voice. She knew the 'spirits' disliked her but she hadn't figured out why. Until now. They were threatened by what she knew. He could not approach her and she could not approach him without causing the spirits to reek havoc in his mind. She had been right in that assumption. She would have to find another way to make him remember. And She had.

But she was annoyed at this invasion of her life. Her eyes burned with a harsh glare. Up until now her rage was slowly rising. It had begun as annoyance until she found out that the Apokolipz had her followed. Now her annoyance boiled into agitation. Her voice was stern and she spoke through gritted teeth.

"He sent you to follow me?? " she refused to hold back now. Her fist slammed fiercely into the table's surface. The entire table shook. She had been followed by her own house sneak. Her own house mate. Of course, regardless whether they were acquainted or not. A rogue would do anything if the pay was enough. She hoped the Apokolipz was paying her well for this.

‘What is it that ya know that he don’t.

"What I know, is of my affairs, none of yours." Ejhin's own words broke in with Nanarie's irritated voice. Briefly there was silence then Ejhin continued.

‘Ya love ‘him, ya have a history with him…or what he used ta be. The dress ya cling to hails to another time, and ya mumble as ya sleep me gel. What had she said in her sleep? The ring ya wear suspended around yer neck, is one of two ya had crafted.' She turned away at the mention of her keepsake. Not out of pain or to hide any emotion. Just out of frustration. "He knows something is there between ya two, but he’s no memory of who his was, his family or anyone. Voices plague him, he wonders what his past is, his family…all these things. Yet still, he is the Apokolipz Nan, ya must realize this.’

She knew too much. No one needed to know this much about her.

Nanarie didn't want to go into it. Not with anyone but the Apokolipz. "I know who he is. My love for Vladdik does not blind me."

‘As I said before me gel … "Ya know sometimes ya can chase a thin' all ya want but find that ya lost it, cause ya lost sight of what it was that ya were truly searchin' for."… are ya sure yer chasing what ya think ya are? Is this the race and what be the prize for ya, at the end me gel? An if ya are determined to find yer past with him, how ya gonna do this?’

Nanarie had to admit. She hadn't thought the entire thing through. When she started she had no doubt her past would come back to her. But after some time she was beginning to realize it wouldn't. She had come to slowly accept it. She didn't need Ejhin or anyone else to tell her that it wasn't to happen. She knew that already. She had her way now. Her way to make him remember. But Ejhin's words weren't making the issue any obvious than it already was. All her unwanted advice had only proved to anger Nanarie over the course of their short conversation.

Ejhin's first words to her, when she had taken her seat echoed in her mind. No, Ejhin didn't seem to be at all concerned for her health, hygiene or appearance. All she cared about was her contract with the Apokolipz. She had been followed. Observed. Invaded. Her possessions had even been taken.

She looked to the platter of food in front of her and scowled at the false representation of her concern. Without knowing it herself she had slid her hand under the platter, lifted it, and heaved it. The food splattered on the wall behind Ejhin and off to the right. The plate landed with the sound of reverberating tin.

"I chase nothing any longer, dear sneak. I only offer him the truth to his past. Not just his past with me. But his family, who he used to be. How they died! Why they died! Everything Vladdik had dared search for in his lifetime. I bring that to the Apokolipz! " She was standing now. Shouting and throwing her arms about the room in anger and frustration. She had lost control and her anger spoke all she had wished to keep secret.

It was out. All of it. The sneak got what she came for. Nanarie wasn't happy. She swiped her goblet from the table and hurled that to the other wall. Wine streamed down the stone. She turned back to the table where Ejhin sat unmoved and seemingly unpreturbed. Nanarie's eyes flared into Ejhin's . "You had no right to invade my life Ejhin! None!"She couldn't hold back anymore. Her right fist went directly into the wall. Dust and bits of stone fell to the floor. Blood spilled over her knuckles and spots littered the wall. Her breathing was uncontrolled and rapid. She had let her anger build until it was too strong to hold back. " But I guess that is what your sort does. No true allegiance to your fuma... when it comes to a full coin sack.

She didn't care to wait for Ejhin's wise cracking response. She had heard enough. She grabbed her belongings with her bloodied fist and headed for the door. The door swung violently open as Nanarie stomped out then slammed shut.

She stopped briefly to collect herself. She leaned against the door and sighed. Yet another evening gone wrong. She stuffed her gauntlets inside her helm and tucked it under her arm. She slipped her dagger back into its sheath and gripped its hilt fiercely. She had no choice but to do what was necessary. And there was no time like the present. With that thought she headed toward the bar.

Brakk had heard the door slam apparently cause as soon as she was in view he had his eyes fixed on her. Even as she approached the bar his eyes never waivered. She didn't care at this point. She has been observed enough this night to make her numb to who ever wished to lock their eyes on her form.

" An unopened bottle of Elven blood wine, please." Was all she said. The Minotaur quickly obliged. She never seemed to have a preferred drink, like all the others. So her various requests came as no shock to the Barkeep. She watched him as he went to Apokolipz's private stash then return with the unopened bottle of wine, placing it on the bar top. She swiped it leaving the glass he offered behind.

It seemed to be hours that passed as the Knightess sat staring at the corked bottle of wine. Her eyes would have burned a hole in it if they had truly been filled with fire. The clanking of glasses, laughter and raised voices were a much needed change after the quiet booth of interrogation.
She reached into her sack and lifted a vial from the hidden pocket inside. She held it briefly in her palm. Contemplating her next actions. It had to be done. This way or no way. Now or never.

In the noisy tavern she had gone totally unnoticed. Totally left to her thoughts. She uncorked the bottle and tipped the vial of purplish liquid into the wine and quiclky pushed the cork back into the bottles mouth. Both hands rested on the top of the bottle, clasping it and the empty vial a bit regretfully. Her forehead came down to rest on her hands as she let out a relieved sigh. Moments past. She slipped the empty vial into her sack and leaned back in a slouch. Without another thought she beckoned to Talontar as she passed by.

"Take this back and bring ussa something different. Usstan do naut wish to be reminded of 'him'."Tolantar paused and looked to the corked bottle of wine and realized who she meant. "Some Ale would be preferred." She nodded and turned to put it back in his private stash.

Lost in her thoughts again she began digging out the pieces of rubble from her fist. A slight thud let her know her ale had arrived. Unexpectedly Tonantar handed the Knightess a damp rag with a glance at her injured hand and left Nanarie to herself.

Apokolipz and His Search for Answers
The Apokolipz had wandered aimlessly around Neriak and Nektulos Forest for days, his mind plagued with the memories that still haunted him; the memories of another man, Vladdik. To others, he seemd an aging old necromancer, befuddled and lost in converstions within his own insanity. Every so often, he would pause midstep, his cold stare growing blank, only to blink several minutes later and continue walking, scowling at his skeletal servant. His clothing and hygene abviously suffered from this state of mind, his hair becomming matted and worn, his leather and metal armor dirty with filth and dried blood from whatever poor soul crossed his path, saying the wrong thing. For, even though his mind was clouded, he was still... The Apokolipz.

=====================================================

Krizin J`Narus's red eyes spied the shadowed form, as it approached down the tunnels in Neriak's Third Gate. At first, the well trained guard took nothing more than basic note of it, content to continue his rounds and keep any treehuggers out of the depths of Neriak. But, as the form grew closer, his Teir'Dal eyes noted the shadowy whips that clung to the form, and his internal alarms went off. Yes, he knew the necromancer well enough, after seeing him for several days now. Well enough to move out of his path.

The Apokolipz strode by the shadowknight guard, his cold ice blue stare fixed before him, an expression of determination rarely seen on his gaunt features as of late. His bone white hair hanging from his head hung in matted knots over parts of his face and down his back. The claws extending from his off hand flickered in the dim lighting of nearby magical glyphs of warding on the cave walls, the metal pronged walking staff thumping solidly with each step he took. The metal-scaled leggings and magical leathers he wore were crusted with grime and blood. A short distance behind followed his undead minion, a servant of darkness, old and rusted weapons in its boney grip; it glared at the guard briefly as they passed with its green glowing orbs, which lay in empty sockets.

Krizen only nodded to the necromancer, having had to clean up the remains of the last poor soul to cross him only the night before. This time, though, he knew that the aged necromancer had a purpose.

As the Apokolipz stormed through the gates, he took a different turn. Rather than heading to the Lodge of the Dead, his usual destination in this area of the city, he went in the opposite direction, his path bringing him through the door to the rogues' guild, the Ebon Mask. As he walked through the halls, he was approached by a young rogue.

"Well, wha' 'ave we 'ere?" came the boy's voice as he slipped from the shadows to block the necromancer's path. "Ya look like one o' us, but..." his eyes fell on the skeletal guard following behind, "..you aint, is ya?"

The Apokolipz stopped, his cold stare peircing through the young rogue through the veil of matted hair. His minion immediately stepped up to attack, but paused at a slight motion from its Master. "...move, boy.." came the whispered voice from his thin lips.

The young footpad backed against the wall, leaving the hallway open to pass. The look in his eyes showing all the Apokolipz needed to know.

The necromancer continued past, heading into the inner sanctem of the Mask's stronghold. Within the shadowed meeting hall, several other rogues, assassins, and spies were visible. One motioned to him, and turned to enter a side room as the Apokolipz followed.

The skeletal slave closed the door. The necromancer stood there, shadows clinging to his armor, his cold gaze staring into the master assassin before him.

"Eolorn J`Axx, at dosst service," the elder rogue master introduced himself. His clean cut looks and slick attitude added a sly edge to his ettquette.

The Apokolipz nodded.

Eolorn's red eyes shifted slightly. He had dealt with all types in his line of work. That this necromancer was here meant he had bussiness, and he fit the discription of the man seeking his audience last night. After a moment of silence, he pressed the issue. "So, dos doerrus ulu ussa lac'nau..?" his question open ended.

The Apokolipz didn't respond; he didn't even acknoledge the question.

Remembering what his servant had told him of the man, Eolorn shook his head slightly, and dropped ettequette. "What xun dos want?"

The Apokolipz blinked, his ice blue eyes watering. His whispered voice answered through thin lips, the muscles under the thin skin of his face visibly moving, "...I have come to hire your guild for a job..." The sound was a hiss.

Yes, all kinds... Eolorn J'Axx nodded. "Alright, what job?" He was finally getting down to business. "Usstan need a list of details, who, what, where, when, and after looking into it, dorn decide whether to do it and reach you with ussta decision."

Several seconds later, the Apokolipz blinked again. "... I must find Nanarie..." he hissed, and then continued with whatever details he could provide, his speech steady and slow, as if done through concentrated effort. After the meeting was finished, he left the Ebon Mask's halls the same way he entered, his steps determined and strong.

Several moments later, the Apokolipz stumbled into the private room of the Maiden's Fancey, obviously in some distress. Mare X`Lottl and Spice rushed to his side, but paused as the necromancer's undead servant rushed to his Master's aid. The necromancer leaned on the skeleton's frame and made his way to his usual chair in the corner, Mare following as Spice went to retrieve a bottle of elven blood wine kept specifically for this man.

"M'Lord," came Mare's worried voice, her silky tones wrought with worry. "Are you alright?" Her slight hands wrapped in worry against her tender bossom.

The Apokolipz only grunted in response, leaning onto the table.

The troll bouncer woman brought the bottle of wine to his table, placing it onto the table before him along with a clean wine glass.

The necromancer took hold of the already unstoppered bottle and drank deeply from it, forgoing the glass.

"Cummon, now, gurl," Spice commanded, speaking to Mare. "Leevz himz alone."

====================================================

The Ring...
A lone figure walked the quiet streets on Neriak’s Foreign Quarter. Shadows visibly clung to him, like a living entity. It was “night” in Neriak, which meant the sun was up in the world outside the underground city. Most of the denizens slept or crept about in the shadows now. Well, unless the shadows crept about you, that is.

The dull thud of the apparently insane old man’s walking staff announced his coming, and as he would near, the faint murmurings of his one-sided, whispered conversations could be heard…

“...tell me, spirits... what does it mean...?” came the soft hissing question to no one.

His skeletal minion kept up with his languid pace, its eerie greed glowing eyes searching for any sign of a threat or trouble, the ancient Blood tempered weapons in its hands gleaming in the soft glows from the various magical symbols of warding scattered throughout most of Neriak.

The necromancer moved deeper into Neriak as he continued his ramblings. “...why would she leave these lying about...? ...for me to find...?”

‘...forget her...’ the spirits urged in whispers only his ears and mind could hear.

“...forget...?!” came his harsh hiss. His pace ceased and he stopped, his angry glare focusing on…nothingness… a stone wall... “...forget that the note and gown were in my... ‘his’ memories...? ...forget that there are no records of my birth or my family...? ...forget that ‘she’ holds the answers I seek...?!” His rage was peaking.

His ears and mind become bombarded by the cacophony of chaotic whisperings, hissing at his anger, his words, his thoughts...

He flinched from it, his eyes closing tightly in concentration, forcibly willing them from his mind to no avail. After several moments, he regained enough of his composure to continue his trek. “...I will ‘not’ forget, spirits...”

Hours later, after making his way into the Keep of House D’Orakaa, The Apokolipz sat alone in his chambers. A single candle with age-old wax, the only light source for the room, an ornate goblet of half drank wine, and the unfolded note were all on the writing table before him. As the candle slowly burned down, the necromancer studied the note intently. His cold eyes searched the words, not for their meaning, but the words themselves. He retrieved another piece of parchment, one that he had recently written, and compared it to the note he had found at what his... Vladdik’s memories told him was Nanarie’s old house... the handwriting was the same...

The Apokolipz sighed. "...if the dreams are true... then why was she there...?” His whisper was unemotional and cold... calculating. “...why did she leave the gown and note behind...? ...for me to find...?”


---The young Teir’Dal made his way through the Foreign Quarter of Neriak, slipping through the bustling crowd of traders, humanoids, and other various evil visitors, his slight frame and stature going almost unnoticed by the larger races. He hurried into the troll and ogre areas, his mind set on his goal. He hopped down to a rooftop of the troll built building known as Shiny Tingz, darted along the top to the front of the establishment, and hopped down lithely to the street below, his movement catching the glance of a local ogre guard. Turning to the front door, the young man entered, the wooden door opening easily, despite its poor workmanship.

Canarie, the troll woman who owned and ran the shop, spied him as he walked in. She was obviously busy dealing with another patron, so he made his way to the display counter and visually inspected some of her other wares. After a few minutes, she came over.

“Joo gut da munney?” she asked in typical trollish accent.

“Depends… are they done?”

The troll woman moved behind the display counter and leaned down to unlock and open a drawer. After a couple of thumping noises, she brought out a small, black box and placed it on the counter for him to inspect. “Ya, dey dun, jus lyk joo wuntz. Da guy jus dropt demz off yestaday.”

His red eyes widened and his hands moved for the box. “And the inscriptions…?” His fingers opened the box, revealing the two midnight gold wedding bands within. “He got the inscription from Nanarie, right?” He picked out the smaller band, not wanting to ruin the surprise his love had planned in her personal message to him.

“Ya, joo lewk, joo see.”

He turned the intricately carved and elegant ring over in his fingers, reading the tiny writing along the inside of the band.

“To Nanarie, my True Love… forever.”---

The Apokolipz blinked.

His eyes watered from having been open for too long. As his mind refocused, the dreamlike memory flitting away, the whisperings of the spirits screaming in his ears, his eyes cleared and stared coldly at the ring in his rune-gloved fingers. Midnight gold, intricate and elegant, too small for even his thin fingers to wear...

It was 'her' ring, the one he got for her, the one she gave the night she first met the Apokolipz...

The inscription proved it...

A Contract ...
"I think that I should be askin' for more than what you be offerin me." A conniving voice said in the deep shadows of the cloak room. She stopped in her tracks. She had just been out walking the streets of Neriak with no real purpose but to clear her thoughts. Many endless thoughts of her time away from House D'Orakaa. But mostly, in the past few weeks her thoughts had been focused on one man. A man that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake from her mind. The young Knight of the Shadows, Nimotah. Now as she walked into her home those thoughts were interruppted by the voice of her hired help. His obvious threat to withold the information he had obviously found only angered her more. Her blood lust only seemed to deepen.

Her head turned and her body followed to the shadowed corner the voice came from. "You think our deal unfair?" came the sadistic purr of her own voice. She reached behind head with her right hand and before the young rogue noticed he was at the tips end of her blade. Obviously he had thought she was unarmed since she was not in her usual outfit of blood red armor. Bad assumption on his part. "Hows this for a deal." She drove the tip, twisting it slowly into his jugular. A small trickle of blood slid down his neck. "You tell me all that you have learned and I let you live to make future profits. Or... "She stepped closer to him and took in the sweet smell of fresh blood. "I gut you slowly from neck to groin..." Her knee thrust into his crotch at that last word with enough force to make him gasp and wheeze. "all while I force it from your pleading lips. Then as you lay dying, I will let my 'mancer friends Raven pick out your eyes and feed off your bloody flesh. Either way I shall get what I want. Although..." her black gloved finger tapped her lips in thought. "I would enjoy gutting you. It has been some time since I have sated my blood lust. That way I would save my coin.. and relieve you of yours."

He shook his head dramatically, not wishing to utter a single word to this crazy blood thirsty woman. But Nanarie wasn't at all convinced. On with it! and she jerked her blade tip with her shouting words. She held him at her blades tip until he swore repeatedly that he had divulged everything.

"Thats everything?"

He nodded "Yes, m..m'lady"

She took the blade from his throat and saw the look of complete relief litter his face. Just as he began to sigh her forearm pinned him to the wall. The flat of her blade rested beneath her forearm, it's newly sharpened edge just barely a swift wrist jerk away from his neck. The smell of fresh blood teased her still. Her eyes pierced into his. He tried to his best abilities to conceal his fear and remain calm. She could see the fear in his eyes and instead of taking his life she sought to take advantage of his new found fear for this unexpectedly forceful woman.

"It has been some time since I have enjoyed a kill. But.. sadly killing you would be but a temporary satisfaction." She shook her head in mock disappointment. She released her arm and he fell to the floor, rubbing his neck. As he turned his head up to look at her she was already kneeling in front of him, tossing a coin sack in the air. Once twice .. three times. She hurled it at him the fourth time it left her hand and then looked into his shocked eyes. "I will pay you what is due .. this time. But never insult my willingness to pay what is due. For the next time you wish to be so 'bold' I will naut think twice about spilling your blood on my floors." She stood and took a step back and sheathed her sword. Watching him until he regained his nerves and stood. He made his way toward her doorless entry and he was stopped by the crudeness of her voice. "Be prepared to negotiate another contract. You shall hear from me soon." He nodded without turning around. He knew he would hear from her soon. And he dreaded the encounter.

She went to the main living room. Now her house was dustless and looked like it never had been abandoned. All except the doorless entryway which was guarded by her slave.

The room was filled with the warm orange glow of the burning fireplace. It crackled and hissed as she sat contemplating the various things she had learned this night. She had all she needed to prove him of his life. She patted her front tunic pocket where a vial rested. Yep everything. IF, she still wished to do so.

She held no hope for a possible future with the Necromancer. It was not possible. She simply wished to help him, if he wished her help, to remember the life as Vladdik. Still as she tried to find a most decent way to approach the Apokolipz she found her thoughts trailing to his newest hunting companion. Nimotah.

A Long Night of Thought
Darkness cloaked the forest. The trees swayed as the breeze whistled through them. Upon a thick limb of a tall tree was the shadowed form of a lone Tier'Dal. The clattering of bones of skeletons walking by, the howling of wolves and the chattering of spiders added to the constant murmurings of her own thoughts. Tonight was the first night in many months that she hadn't had her loyal companion at her side.

She had been in this tree since the dusk of night, just outside the cave entrance to her home city. She had her thoughts occupied with her recent activities as she watched her brethren come and go. In this spot, hidden from the eyes of the passer-by, she sat silently pondering the reason for her efforts.

Everything she had done had been for a single purpose. To give him back his past. But now, as she sat here she had begun to wonder why she ever even thought it was worth it. She had put everything she had into these past few months and now, strangely, she wished she hadn't. She had started to come to the realization that no matter her efforts, Vladdik would never come back to her.

She had seen the many faces of her house as the night passed and entered a new day. A few had been good company in her days before she left. Most of them she knew. Others passed wearing the badge proudly but their faces weren't familiar. New recruits was what she chalked it up to and was pleased to know that her house was growing in her absence.

Vinlaael passed under her tree on his beautiful Drogmar mount. She had been tempted to slip from her perch onto his mount behind him, in hopes to play a little joke on the well armored knight, but she hadn't wished to be seen just yet. She let him pass but chuckled at his possible look of pure shock.

Her Lady Eire had passed, leaving a trail of numbing cold in her wake. Nanarie bowed her head in respect to the Lady Knight as she passed.

Nimotah, knight she only recently met some weeks ago. Time was becoming lost to her. He passed by frequently, well armored and confident. The conversation between them erupted in her thoughts. His words echoing loudly against her ears. But his eyes, locked on hers remained etched in her own. Again she let him pass, the tempers that had flared between them did not need to be rekindled. She would offer a truce another time.

One Tier'dal passed many times. A frail, unkempt,form with an aura of complete destruction and anger, that was the Apokolipz. Her eyes watched him, never leaving his form till it disappeared in the shadows. He seemed much older yet even more powerful than her memories revealed. Her emotions whirled, a combination of longing and anger at the mere sight of him. With every detail she uncovered she found that much of her long since buried love for him emerging. But with that love came regret. And now.. now that she had everything to prove to him what he was, who he had been and that what she spoke of that day in the tavern was truth she could see it all being useless.

Innoruuk was punishing her. She knew it. He punished him when Vladdik fell in love with her years ago and was punishing her now for attempting to undo his will. That hadn't been her intent, but it was what she was doing after all. She hadn't thought of the real consequence of her actions until recently and she knew Innoruuk would not allow it.

The Apokolipz wouldn't either. Vladdik was no more, she knew that. The man that now held his body was not who she knew. Yes, it is true that she had wanted him all the same. He wouldn't allow the memories of Vladdik to arise and he would even refuse her. She knew that much for certain now.

As problematic as all this had become her ultimate predicament had yet to be confronted... until now.

Should she tell him, the Apokolipz, what she learned? Would she indeed go through with her plans? What would she say? "Vendui Apokolipz, I just wanted to drop your unwanted past in your lap. As, that was what I have been up to these past few months. " No. She should just forget it all and get on with her life as a disciple of Innoruuk.

That had been the life she chose after he died and it would be the path she followed now.. with or without The Apokolipz. That thought alone sent a cold shiver of a lonely life before her eyes.

If all this was inevitable then why was he at her house? Why were the two things that meant more to her, her only keepsakes of him, taken? She hadn't expected that. Did he know what she was up to? No. No one did. She spoke to no one about her intentions and aimed to keep it that way. If she returned and decided to keep her evidence to herself, than she would take it all with her to her grave.

She leaned her head against the tree and her chest rose and then fell in a deep sigh. Her hair was loose cascading down her shoulders over her ebony tunic, past her hips. It blew softly in the slight breeze. Her legs donned in scalemail straddled the large tree limb. Her armor, even as much as she prided herself in it, was left at her home. But her sword was still secured to her back. No matter how much she wished to forget and escape her knighthood at times and what brought her here to this point in her life, she could not part with her blade. She closed her eyes, an attempt to empty her mind and relax.

*~* Out of breath, she made it to the front door, giggling as the corners of her mouth reached farther and farther across her face. She leaned her back against the large oak door panting even as she tried to speak. A wonderful chuckle grew louder as her accomplice came into view. "Usstan... h'ros z'reninth..dos fridj xunus nindel, Nanarie" ((I... can't believe..you just did that, Nanarie.)) He said between breaths. She laughed harder at the sound of pure amazement in his voice. He took the last few steps to the door and placed his palm against it, just above her right shoulder. Still trying to catch his breath.

"Usstan neitar xunus saph nindyn jalilen gil'ssrigghinn" ((I never did like those females anyway)) Nanarie shrugged."Zuch haska d' klezn nind zhaun naubol bauth" ((Always talking of things they know nothing about.))

He shook his head as he finally reclaimed his breath. "Drill nind ph' abbilen ulu dosst ilhar." ((But they are friends to your mother.))

Nanarie had a careless look in her crystal eyes. "Ka il orn'la inbal tlus gaer Usstan orn'la inbal xunor l' ves toha." ((If she would have been there I would have done the very same.)) He chuckled and lifted his eyes to hers and a smile more handsome that it had ever been traveled across his face. Their eyes locked in a silent moment before her cheeks turned a deep purple. " Usstan... Usstan alur..alu" (( I... I better..go)) Her hand fumbled as it searched the door for it's handle. " Ilhar, nau guu'lac, zhaun d' ussta moraden lu' orn tlu delmah ulnin." (( Mother, no doubt, knows of my actions and will be home soon.))

A presence so cold and angry emerged from behind Vladdik.

"Ilhar, Usstan zhahus fridj... uk zhahus.. udos zhahen..." ((Mother, I was just... he was.. we were...))

" Telanth Vedaust" ((Say Goodbye.))

Vladdik rolled his eyes letting his hand fall to his side but not before he grazed her chin with his thumb and forefinger and smiled.

" Vedaust, Vladdik" She said with a playful smirk.Then he turned and chuckled at her mother and began to walk away. Then he stopped and turned back to Nanarie. " Goros mufo, Jallil Nanarie" (( Till tomorrow, Lady Nanarie.)) A low angry growl rumbled through her mothers lips as he left. She scowled at Nanarie and the young girl sighed as she walked inside. Nanarie was prepared, as always, for the rantings of embarrassment and disapproval of their friendship. Yes, there was no doubt that her mother learned of her hurling wet smelly fish at the gossipping women her mother called friends.*~*

As pleasing as that memory was, it had been unwanted and laughter and smiles had no place here this night. Things would never be like they once had been.

She pushed herself up into a crouch and jumped. Her leather boots made no sound when they met the ground. As she stood she ran her hand through her long tresses and glided toward the cave entrance. Her destination... to her home to reclaim her armor, call forth her slave and head straight for Carpe Noctem. It had been months since she shared drinks with the Lady Ashianna.

{If the Walls Could Talk} Pt. 3
This second visit had helped her recall every step, every thought and every memory of her first.

In those long moments of recollection as she stood in her doorway she was forced to realize that something was different. Someone had indeed been here.

Now, as she stood there taking in every inch of her room with her dancing red eyes she could see a few changes. Recent changes.

Only a few paces from where she stood was a bare spot looking to be longer than she is tall. The dust that had covered this area was swept to the side in a few parts and seemed to have been lifted in others. Almost like someone had sat there.

The bed. It looked like she had left it. Well, almost. She remembered getting up that one morning and something occurred to her. She walked to the bed, purposely avoiding the dustless area and began lifting every pillow and even feeling beneath them with her other hand. Nothing. She lifted the blankets and still nothing. She spun in a circle and plopped on the bed. Armor and weapons clanking in her graceless movement. Where was the letter?

In the hall she could hear the restless footsteps of her slave as he paced the hall. Loud then soft, then loud before going soft again. It echoed into her thoughts as she sat trying to figure out whether she was right or just going crazy.

"In Here! NOW!" Obediently he stepped into the doorway and walked to her. "Sit." Her pet's only response was the clatter of his bones against the floor.

Silence once again. Where was the letter? She began looking on her bed again and under it. The letter wasn't all that was missing. As she placed her had on the foot of her bed to lift her from the floor she realized her gown wasn't there. Where is it? She looked in her armoire. Nothing. She remembered tossing it to the bed just like she remembered leaving the letter near her pillows. So where were they? She even checked the drawer of the bureau she had found her letter in and all that remained was a outline of where it had been for so long.

Now as she looked at the bureau she was faced with the empty bottle of wine she distinctly remembered dropping on the floor. Something was going on and it was beginning to irritate her.

Her favorite gown was gone. The letter she had that Vladdik wrote also gone. But who would want such priceless things? And Why? Common thieves wouldn't want such things. Whoever took them knew their sentimental value.

The smell that lingered in the air was telling her who it was. But why was he here? He didn't know the significance of those items. Apokolipz never shown any interest in her or their past. So it couldn't have been him. Only one man knew what those items would mean but he was dead. Lost in the depths of a mind of a man unwilling to remember. There was no way Vladdik had been here. He was lost to her. Now, he only lived in the memories she and this house held.

Everything she smelled and everything she discovered meant that her senses hadn't been toying with her. Even though she had come to realize Vladdik was dead to her everything here said something completely different.

Apokolipz had been here.Why? How? How did he know of her old home. Her old gown? Why would he take the letter of a man he cared not to know?

"Stand, my pet." Came the purr of her voice.

He stood.

"The Apokolipz has been here..." She circled her minion a few times as her hand reached to the base of her pony tail to scratch it.

"...Vladdik shows him the way."

{If the Walls Could Talk}
Her first visit was about a little over a week ago. She had come through the shattered window near the back of the house. It hadn't really occurred to her how odd it was that she was sneaking into her own home, rather than use the front door. She simply refused to break down the boards that so effectively kept the unwanted out.

She had entered the large dining hall where a nice sized table stood in the very middle. On the table sat a bowl of rotten and dust covered bread. It seemed, by the teeth marks that her only visitors had been the rodents that usually ran about the city.

She walked from the dining room grabbing some wine on her way to the main living room. The room looked considerably different with its blanket of dust over every surface.

*~*A fire burned in the large stone fireplace. It's flames danced rhythmically as it gave a blanket of warmth and dim light to the couple leaning against the couch. Nanarie lay comfortably against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her back as he breathed. His arms wrapped around her and his cheek resting on the side of hers. His legs were bent on each side of her with her arms lovingly wrapped around each one.

His lips barely grazed her ear as he whispered to her, "Fridj talinth, ussta ssinssrigg, ol orn naut tlu verve hwuen nindol zhah udossta delmah. Dos orn naut inbal ulu v'dri maglust 'sohna." ((Just think, my love, it will not be long until this is our home. You will not have to sleep alone again.))

Her crimson lips spread in an upward arch as she turned her face toward his and looked deeply into his eyes. "Ol zhah jal'yur udossta delmah." ((It is already our home.)) Her eyes dropped his lips as she kissed him, her hand finding his face
as the kiss deepened yet remained soft. Her fingertips glided across his face as before resting just behind his ear in his jet black locks. She pulled away slightly and looked back into his eyes smiling again. "Ol orn tlu bronretla ulu guuan phor ulu dos ril kre." ((It will be wonderful to wake up to you every morning.)) He smiled his handsome smile and kissed her forehead. She returned her head back to his shoulder, her smile still decorating her face. He hugged her tight as he left a trail of kisses from her cheek to the crook of her neck. She closed her eyes as each hand reached across her body to interlock with his. " Ulnin, ussta ssinssrigg." ((Soon, my love.)) She nodded, her eyes still closed. *~*

Her gloved hand reached up and touched her cheek. She could still feel the trail of kisses and she realized her eyes had turned glossy and her vision partly obscured.

At the top of the stairs she bypassed her mother's old room with a glare and an unloving thought for the woman who abandoned her. She entered her room her minion close behind her. Too long had it been, by the looks of it. Again, like the many other rooms, a blanket of dust covered every inch. She headed first for her armoire and and pulled out her once favorite gown. Turning she looked to her minion "Doesn't seem to be my taste does it my pet?" Her minion only stared at her blankly with its green glowing sockets. She handed the gown to her slave and removed her armor. She tried with a huge effort to put on the gown, The only resistance seemed to come from the tight sleeves as they ripped at the seams. The rest hugged her snugly until at her hips it flowed freely to the hem. She popped the cork of the wine and began to take comfort as she paced the room pulling open drawers and other compartments.

In one drawer she came across a single item, a parchment. She knew what it was and what it said but she picked it up anyway and headed toward the bed. Without a verbal command her minion had already took the covers and gave it a violent shake, ridding it of the thin layer of dust before she sat. She read it and a tear streamed her face. Over and over she read it, remembering the happiness she felt...then...the heartbreak and sorrow. She pulled the blanket down and sunk into the bed, pulling the blanket close around her. She tucked the note under her pillow but still held it under her palm.

*~*Dim candlelight filled the room, flickering slightly due to the cool breeze from the open window. A warm embrace held her and soft controlled breathing soothed her. The only pleasure this night, as with their many nights together, was only to lay in each other's company. Her back hugged closely to his chest, his face buried behind her neck. He stirred slightly and hugged her tighter. She felt him smile as he kissed the back of her neck. A pleased moan escaped her lips at the touch of his lips. She turned her body to face him, her satin night gown pulling tight against her body as she turned. Their faces touched nose against nose as their eyes reflected the others, until they fell asleep. *~*

She woke to find her body hugging a large pillow with the note still clutched in her hand. A long, frustrated and disappointed sigh erupted as she let go of the parchment and climbed out of the bed.

She turned to find her minion holding out her armor, as if knowing her eagerness to leave. She slipped of the gown and threw it to the bed and within minutes she was fully armored with her hair bound in a half fast pony tail. As she walked out of her room and down her stairs she secured her sword to the middle of her back and swung the quiver and bow over her shoulder then slipped out the way she came.

As she made it around the front of her house she took a long step back and stared. This house was filled with endless memories and hopes for a impossible future. She had every desire to make it work but her heart was weighing heavy now. It was starting to come to the sad realization that what Nanarie wanted, what she had always wanted, was never going to be.

She reached into her sack of food and sighed, another disappointment. "Usstan fear that we must visit the Halfling at some point this day. Usstan have but enough to last me till this eve." Her pet's eyes flickered in response and she spun on her heal and set off to finish the task she left her House mates to accomplish with her pet staggering fast behind her.
====================================================

{poApokolipz}

*Alone, the Apokolipz wanders the streets of the ever-dark Neriak, ever since 'her' disappearance. His mind plagued by lost memories and his ears filled with the whisperings of his dark god's emmesaries, the "spirits", the Apokolipz slowly paces about the city, pausing briefly when his surroundings spark an old memory. After days of such behavior, he eventually finds himself at an abandoned building, one that meant something to him at one time. The stones were dirty and unkept, the wood becoming decrepid from lack of tending, and the windows were either cracked, shattered, or too dirty to see through. The building's front door was boarded up to prevent children from entering.

This was once Nanarie's house*

'...you musst leave here, Apokolipz...'

The teir'dal necromancer scowled and waved away the unseen pest. The skeletal minion beside him raised its ancient weapons up, as if to fend off whatever displeased its master. Brushing a lock of bone-white hair out of his eyes, the Apokolipz stared at the upstairs window of the house, which overlooked the city streets. The window was whole, but had some sort of dirty film covering it, making it difficult to see through.

---- A warm light could be seen through the silken drapes hanging in the upstairs window. Gently, he tossed a small pebble up and it bounced off of the glass. Within moments, the beautiful young teir'dal's face appeared, her crystal white eyes looking down at him and her bright red lips curved up into a smile.

He motioned for her to come down and she nodded in answer, her face disappearing from the window. Quietly, he waited for her down in the streets. His hand absentmindedly played with his jet black hair as a city guard walked by.

The front door slowly opened, as Nanarie stepped through the doorway, wearing her ebony hooded cloak over her favorite gown of the deepest blue with silver trim. She closed the door quietly behind her and rushed to his side. He embraced her shapely form, and she kissed him softly.----

The Apokolipz blinked, his eyes watering in response. He could still feel the warmth of the embrace he remembered and smell the fragrant scent of her hair. The whisperings continued around him, warning him, threatening him, but he ignored thier words. He took three quick and determined steps towards the front door, his undead minion instantly unleashing on it in a flurry of sword swipes until the wooden obsticle no longer blocked its master's way. Without missing a step, the necromancer went into the abandoned house...

{If the Walls Could Talk} Pt. 2
"Blasted Human!!" Her hand quickly grasped the woman's blouse as she thrusted her against the wall. "Dos are begging to have dos throat cut" The girl shivered at the sound of her voice. She reached into the pocket of her apron and awkwardly counted out a handful of coin, with a shaky hand she offered it to the scowling Tier'Dal. Nanarie looked into the pale opened palm and then averted her eyes to the girl, tilting her head in pure annoyance. Her hand reached for the hilt of her blade strapped to the middle of her back. Quickly, the frightened girl reached back in her pocket and pulled it out, revealing quite a few more platinum coin. Nanarie grinned evilly, obviously satisfied. "Much better" came a sadistic response as she opened the hand the bound the girls blouse letting her fall to the ground. Her other hand went from the hilt to snatch the coin from her hand as the girl fell.

With a flick of her head her minion tossed the merchant woman a bag containing her worthless findings from that days massacre.

She had been gone quite a few weeks now, only rarely visiting The Butchered Halfling to restock her food supply, providing Brakk with fresh meat from slaughtered pale skins and hairy Halflings. She didn't think many noticed her abscence. Not even 'him'. If anything, if he had noticed he was glad for it. He hadn't seemed to have any recollection of her and seemed to have no desire to learn what she had wished to share. 'My heart is a tool, nothing more.' That was his first and only reply to her continued effort to help him recall his past. The rest of his replies where complete and utter silence. It still was as upsetting in her mind as it was the very first time he said it. X'as... we will see how long it remains so once my task is complete. She thought angrily as she slipped through Neriak.

She had left no note, no explanation to why she had to leave. It was temporary but she wasn't sure how long it would take. She had alot she wished to do. One, she felt more important than the other... to find all she could of Vladdik's past and his parent's death. She hired the help of Ebon mask to use their talents in her quest. She told him all she knew of his parents, which wasn't much, to aid in their own investigation. In the mean time, since it had been days since her last contact with them, she went about her own journey... to find her own parents. She knew her mother still lived. She had inquired about her whereabouts from her mother's old gossiping friends. They had been no help. All they told her was that she was still alive, and happy with a family. As much as their lack of willingness to help angered her, she refused to show just how persuasive she could be. What would be the point in harming a few women over a mother who abandoned her first born. She had no recollection of who her father was so she had no idea if he was even alive. The women had been no help there either. They just turned up their noses and walked away, muttering about how her mother was promiscuous in her young years. That angered her but thought better of letting that rage overwhelm her better judgment. It had been so many years since she had been with her mother that the memories were slowly fading. She wanted to know who her father had been before her whole past was gone.

Her footsteps halted in front of an abandoned house... her old home. Years before she had boarded up the front door in hopes of keeping the mischievous youth, much like her and Vladdik in their young years, out of her home. Now the boards and the shattered remnants of her front door lay in sharp pieces on the ground. Annoyed at the invasion of her past she kicked the fragments from her path , letting her minion rush in before her, a rusty scimitar in his bony hand.

Fresh footsteps littered the dust covered floor as she entered the main living room. Broken cob webs gave more evidence that someone had been here since her last visit many many days ago. She knelt down and examined where the intruder's feet lifted the dust and dirt, leaving behind their mark. Now she could see a separate trail, one to match the bony feet of a minion. At first she thought it was from her last visit but the condition of her front door said otherwise. Even the fact that the first trail was that of a slightly bigger Tier'Dal... possibly male. A faint smell lingered here ... almost recognizable to her. She followed the path to the stairwell and up the winding stairs to the second floor, as if they knew where they wished to go. With every step, the familiar scent teased her nose, urging her closer and closer to her room, and with every scent she began to believe she knew who had come here.

The door to her room had been left ajar, leaving fresh marks where it had scraped against the floor, wiping away the thin film of dust. The smell lingered a bit stronger as she stopped in the hall, just before her room. Her mind raced with questions she had no way to answer. Why had he come here? She was certain he cared nothing of what they were when he was Vladdik. Or was it her mind playing another cruel trick, making her think and believe it had been him? Shaking her head in disbelief and in a unsuccessful attempt to rid herself of the questions she stepped through the doorway. Shock took over her as a scent so strong, so recognizable it made her falter in her steps ...... it had been 'him'

====================================================
{poApokolipz ~ what happened in his visit}

*The Apokolipz slowly made his way through the cloak room and into the main living quarters of the abandoned house. In the darkness, his teir'dal eyes could easily see the room's layout; two doors, a boarded up window, and a few tables and chairs, which had fallen into disrepair over the years. Even though there were nicknacks and such laying about, it was obvious no one had been here for a very long time.

A slight scurry of small feet sounded in the silence from near the sheet-covered couch and the necromancers skeletal minion rushed in to slay the poor, unsuspecting rat.*

The Apokolipz smiled evily at his minion's actions. "Luckily, you didn't disturb anything else," he commented to the undead slave as it returned to his side. The skeleton's glowing green eyes only stared back him unemotionally. The Apokolipz gave it a smirk and went into the nearby hallway.

*Cobwebs hung on the walls and from the ceiling, apparently also left unattented for a very long time. Faded paintings also hung on the walls, a testament to the long lifespans of his brethren. The floor was covered in a fine dust, which was only ever seen in areas of Neriak that have gone unused for many years; a reddish black dust caused by the minute shiftings of the earth and stone that the city was carved out of. The layer of dust seemed to have been diturbed mostly by small rodent feet, although there were faint traces of the soft steps of teir'dal feet. The hallway continued on ahead and into the dining room, but the necromancer moved towards the stairway winding up to the second floor, where the trail of footsteps led to and came from. Silently, he stepped onto the first step, his minion's bones clicking behind him as it followed it's master.*

----Quietly, the young teir'dal crept up the stairs, his hand running along the polished wooden railing as he went. He could hear the soft breathing of someone in the silence, coming from upstairs. As he stepped into the short upstairs hallway, his eyes darted to the closed door to his right, even though he knew that the "lady" of the house had left some time ago. Smiling to himself, he went to the door to his right, which was slightly ajar. Dim light poured through the opening, and, as he neared, he could tell that it came from an everburning candle on the bedside stand.

Reaching out, he slowly opened the door to allow him access to the bechambers, a waft of pleasant scents washing over him as he did so; lavender, smoke, and... her...

She lay in the large bed, under the silken sheets imported from... somewhere. Her skin radiated in the candlelight, her hair reflecting its light like fine strands of silver. He could see the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, her body curled up in her sleep. He looked to the envelope in his hand. Slowly, he made his way to her bedside, between the bed and the half-opened window, and slowly placed it on the bed beside her... just as she rolled towards him, her hand actually grasping the envelope before he released it. He froze, his gaze locked onto her lovely face as she slept peacefully. Gingerly, he released his hold on the envelope and stepped back towards the window, knowing full well that she would awaken any moment, yet his heart did not want to end the moment...----

*The Apokolipz staggered on the top step, kicking up a small cloud of dust from the floor. His eyes were closed tightly and his hand gripped the cracked and dried railing for support. His undead guardian moved as if to defend its master from some assailant, but it could detect none*

'...now...'

'...leave now...'

*The whispers began to drown out the memories in thier overlapping hissing, mostly incoherant. The Apokolipz only scowled in response, his cold eyes opening as slits. Slowly, he righted himself, his eyes drifting to the closed door to his left. Quietly, he stepped towards the door, his minion still searching for some unseen threat.

Reaching out, he slowly opened the aged door and it creaked loudly in protest, obviously in need of oil. His senses caught the ghostly scent of lavender and smoke... and her...*

======{Pt. 2 to Apok's story}=======================

*The room was not how he remembered it, yet was also not how he expected it to be. The furniture was still all in place, from the dark wood bureau and small tables to the large and lavish bed, but everything was covered in the same thin layer of dust that covered everything else in the house... well, almost everything. It became quickly obvious that the dust had been disturbed recently. The light footsteps to and from the door and the almost rippling look to the dust around the bed itself. The necromancer slowly pulled the loose locks of bone-white hair that covered his face behind his ear, his ice-blue eyes searching the floor. Judging by the footsteps, whoever the visitor was had gone to the bureau and the closet at times, but mostly dealt with the bed...

The Apokolipz froze, his eyes staring at the bed. The covering blanket was clean of dust, as were the pillows and sheets; all of which were tussled and looked as if someone had recently slept there. But, that was not what had caught his attention. Laid out on the bed, as if tossed aside, was a gown of the deepest blue trimmed in silver...

...Nanarie's gown.*

--- The soft, melodic sound of childlike giggling greeted his ears. Smiling, he turned to his accomplice, who rounded the alley's corner and stopped beside him, catching her breath. Her face was lit up in the joy of the moment.

"Talinth udos inbal noamuth nina?" ((Think we have lost them?)) she asked through gasps of air. Her hands rested on her knees as she continued to catch her breath.

He continued smiling at her, catching his own wind. "Xas, nindyn waelen ilxas naut ragar ninta rath-suulen," ((Yes, those fools could not find their asses,)) he responded, causing them both to laugh harder. "Harven nina olplynen whol op'elgin dossta ssin'urn ofil'nisha, ussta ssinssrigg," ((Serves them thieves for stealing your beautiful clothes, my love,)) he added, handing her the small bundle of clothing he was carrying. Anyone who would break into an orphaned girl's house to steal her items deserved far worse than being covered by a bucket's worth of troll dung.

Nanarie's crystal white eyes lit up at the parcel, as she took it from his outstretched hands. Then, she let our a squeal of pleasure and pounced on him, embracing him in her arms. ---

*The Apokolipz staggered again, slightly. His eyes refocused and looked back to the gown laying on the bed. Slowly, he made his way towards it, his gaze never leaving. As he approached, his minion entered the room behind him.*

"Guard," came the command, and the skeletal slave stoped in its tracks, searching about for enemies to slay. The necromancer turned his attention back to the recently disturbed bed.

Now that he was closer, he could tell that someone had certainly slept in it recently, maybe a week ago at most. The impressions left and lack of dust validated this. The gown itself seemed different to him. Upon closer inspection, he could tell that the sleeves were ripped along the seams. "...odd..." he commented absently, and then he remembered the last time he saw Nanarie. Her physique seemed a lot more muscular than the phantom memories had led him to believe. HIs lips curved into a grin as he pictured the shadow knight trying to wear this gown, her muscled arms ripping the sleeves open.

'...thisss iss not where you musst be, Apokolipz..'

'...leave here...'

His grin disappeared, as he attepted to block out the whispered voices. What were they trying to hide from him? The Teir'Dal scowled to towards the direction he heard the last one come from, his eyes becoming cold and calous once again. "Shut up, spirits," he commanded them, and thier hissing whisperes became incoherant again.

Turning back to the gown, he gently lifted it from the bed in his runed gloved hands. As he did, his face became wistful... that smell... the one that had existed since he opened the door... she had been here...

Lost in thought, he lifted the gown to his face, burying himself in it, and took a deep breath...

--- He lay on his back in the darkened room, in her embrace. Her bright eyes glowing like stars mere inches from his face. His mind was overwhelmed by the moment; her scent, the touch of her skin against him, the heat of her body.

"Xas, ussta ssinssrigg, vel'drav udos phuul vellupala," she whispered to him in her sweet, soft voice...---

The Apokolipz collapsed, the image an echoing memory in his overly strained mind...

..."Yes, my love..." her words haunted him as he slipped unconscious. "...when we are wed..."

============={poApok Pt.3}==========================

The smell of decaying flesh mixed with dust and smoke filled the dimly lit room. The dark stone walls were barely visible in the candlelight of the study. Stone writing tables and bookshelves were laden with ancient tomes of necromantic magics.

"Lor a ussa vel'drav F'sarn haska ulu dos!" (("Look at me when I'm talking to you!")) shouted the master necromancer, obviously upset that his pupil's attention kept drifting to the tomes of knowledge. The elder seemed to sigh, "Nindol ul'hyrr d'ssinssrigg wun dosst karliik orn p'obon dosst streea." (("This idea of love in your head will mark your death."))

The young man had heard this lecture before. Love and kindness were tools for those too ignorant to know what they want or too cowardly to do what is necessary to obtain it. It was written in the books, the Will of Innoruuk, but he had always viewed them as words, not ideals. Now, he knew what love was...

"Yaith ptau'al!" (("Pay attention!")) came another shout from the elder necromancer, snapping his pupil from his daydream. "Nindol draeval dos spend xuil nindel ligrr orn elgg dos!" ((This time you spend with that girl will destroy you!"))

He listened to the elder as he always did, the powerful voice becoming a blur of ranting, but he did not truly listen. How could he? Whenever the old Teir'Dal even mentioned the name of his true love, she was all he could think about. Her silver hair, her crystal white eyes, her soft, pliable skin, her musical laugh and childish giggle, even her smell. She was the reason he breathed, she was the one thing he looked forward to at any given moment she was not at his side. Obviously his masters did not truly know of what they spoke. Love was not a tool, not an object used to manipulate another object. Love was the true fiber of his life, the mere thought of it tugged at every nerve in his body. Love was Nanarie...

Darkness...

'...rise, Apokolipz...'

'...you musst leave...'

The Apokolipz opened his eyes. A dark red glass bottle lay on its side on the floor, partially under the bed. A soft hiss of air was drawn into his lungs, and he coughed slightly from the intake of dust. Reaching out slowly, he grasped the empty wine bottle. "...pet..." came his whispered call, and a commotion was heard as the skeletal minion that still stood in the room's doorway moved to its master's side and helped him off of the floor. Regaining his feet, his other hand went to his head, holding the silken gown that was Nanarie's, as his undead slave retrieved his staff from the floor. The necromancer blinked a few times, ignoring the whipers of the spirits. Yes. He was still in her room. He looked at the gown and then the empty bottle. Raising the bottle to his nose, he could smell the wine it once held, and then he tipped it upsidedown to pour out the last few drops... Fresh. The wine bottle had been opened recently. He placed the bottle on the bureau, and looked down at the opened drawer. It was empty, aside from a light film of dust, not the thick layer that covered almost everything else in the house. Looking closer, her could see that something had been in the drawer, due to the rectangular patch that was clean. His eyebrows pinched in thought at his new findings. "...yes, she has been here..." he whispered aloud. He turned to see his minion looking at something on the bed. He followed its eyeless gaze to see some sort of parchment sticking out from under one of the plump pillows. He sat on the soft bed, laying the gown beside him, and retrieved the parchment. The parchment still had a wetness to it, and it was crumpled, as if held in a person's hand too long... her hand. He could smell her sweat on it as he slowly opened it up so it could be read. Pausing, he looked around the room again, and his eyes then searched the bed he sat on. She must have slept here, not more than two days ago. His hand gently swept over the sheet, feeling for warmth, and then the pillow. There, he found a cold spot. His hand went over it again, and then lifted it from the bed to his face. Her scent was strong on it, intoxicating, and he touched it to his face.

Her words came back to him.

The necromancer opened his ice-blue eyes, which were once again cold and dead, replacing the pillow and retrieving the parchment. He folded the paper neatly in half and rose from the bed. His pet handed him his staff as he passed it, on his way to the door. His eyes were cold, his posture stiff. He went to the stairs and descended them with ease to the first floor. Moving towards the front door, he paused, his eyes locked onto another empty bottle, which was evidently discarded, tossed to the corner where it now lay. A moment's thought, and his eyes searched the room. Too many footsteps, his trail, his pet's, hers, he couldn't make out a specific path in them now. The rat's corpse still lay where his undead minion had left it near the fireplace...

Several moments passed until the Apokolipz blinked again, lost in thought once more. His gaze was lost and distant, even 'soft'. "...soon, my love.." he whispered distantly. Turning, he made his way towards the door again, stopping in the doorway among the remnants that still hung there. He placed the neatly folded parchment and the tattered silk gown into his magical pouch. "...soon..."