{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..."

{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...

Nanarie and The Apokolipz {First Encounter}
*The following is taken from the participating writer's (poApokolipz)own blog page. The first entry is my own. Each one is seperated by entry and author.*
===================================================== {poNanarie}

After a long day of endless slaughtering, Nanarie was convinced her rage was not going to subside any more than it, only slightly, had. Kicking the scattered corpses, she looked to her minion and commanded it to look for whatever they had of value. By this time it was mid eve, she could hear her stomach growl in agonizing hunger. Irritated, she snatched the bag of loot her skeletal servant had gathered and looked through it.

"Blasted, foul creatures! Never have anything of use to me. I can only hope to get a few measly gold for this junk."

With a disgruntled sigh she tosses it over her shoulder to her minion. "Take it to that merchant and get what you can."

After a few minutes the frail skeleton returned with a pouch full of coins. Nanarie swipes the sack and pockets it.

She takes the cobblestone road toward the Great House. Taking note of the ornate, stone building on her left, she decides that her hunger needs to be abolished, and soon. She stops right before the entrance and gazes sternly at her companion. In an instant he crumbles to the ground, bone fragments scattered, and a soft echo is heard, "As you wish." She kicks the bones to the side and steps through the doors of The Butchered Halfling.

She stopped just inside the doorway and removed her skull shaped helm causing a wave of white tresses to fall to her shoulders, with some stuck to her sweat covered brow. She brushed the annoyances from her face with her forearm and took in the sites of the tavern's contents. She could smell the various fragrances of the occupants and their meals. She could even smell the sweet scent of various wines and the harsh scents of different ales. Every smell distinct, played cruel games on her hungry body.

She noticed a male figure, in the far corner, mumbling to no one in particular. Yes, she knew exactly who that man was, quickly and as determined as she would approach her prey, she started toward the table. She hadn't noticed anyone else as she passed, her mind focused on one person. As she approached she reached her slender fingers to her neck, grasping at something under her breastplate, that was unnoticeable at a glance. With a quick jerk of her wrist she snapped it from her neck, leaving a slight red mark. She slammed the object, hard, onto the table in front of the man. Her hand slowly lifted from the table, revealing a necklace, with what looked to be a piece of old worn cloth, wrapped around something, bound like a tiny pouch, to hold it's contents securely on the silver chain.

"Tell me, Vladdik, do you remember that?" Nanarie stood slightly behind him, arms crossed, her face was hateful, her lips pressed in anger, turning a lighter shade of blue.

===================================================== {poApokolipz}

*Apokolipz had been sitting alone in the shadows of the Butchered Halfling for some time, observing his House-mates as they went about their own things and had their own private meetings. So, he quietly sucked the juice from a raw halfling eyeball, occasionally mumbling to the darkness. When the House's newest member stormed in, his eyes instictively darted to her, the Shadow Knight with blood red armor...

...the 'spirits' had warned him about her... but he didn't understand why...*

"..what's this...?" he asked the air in a whisper, as he watched the dark knight approach. She seemed upset, to say the least.

'...she means you harm...' the shadows whispered in his ear, as she came up beside him, slamming her hand to the table and causing him to drop the half-eaten eyeball into the bowl in front of him.

...and then, she said that word... Vladdik... The word was familiar yet foreign, like something he had heard in a dream from years ago...

Apokolipz blinked, somewhat stunned, and turned to look the Teir'Dal in the eyes. As he looked at her hate-filled expression, his own face regained its composure, growing cold and distant.

'...she is trying to poison your mind...'

'...she is the deceiver...'

"Silence, spirits!" he shouted to the nothingness. That word, 'Vladdik', it meant something, but his mind couldn't grasp exactly what. Refocusing on the necklace left on the table.

...that cloth....worn and tattered...it reminded him of his old robes, the one's he wore when he first awoke in the Halls of the Dead in Neriak... when the whispers first started....as did his memory...

Reaching out gingerly, he took the small bundled piece of cloth from the table, slowly dragging it towards him. He could feel the warmth of it in his hand, from having been to close to flesh for so long. There seemed to be something inside, wrapped within, something heavier than the cloth. Slowly, under her watchful gaze, he peeled the cloth open.

'...leave, Apokolipz, leave here now...'

'...this is a trap....'

"I SAID SILENCE, SPIRITS!" he yelled to the darkness of the empty corner, his hand, which held a corner of the cloth, jerking with his movement.

Silence... the whole tavern went silent at his command... and the spirits, whose whisperings had plagued him since his 'rebirth' went silent as well...

...and in that silence, he could only hear the sharp clatter of something metal rolling across the table...

His iceblue eyes darted to the noise and rested on the small golden ring that bounced off his bowl and spun in place untill it came to lay flat on the table before him... a ring he recognized from somewhere... beautifully crafted dark gold... slight in design, too small for a man's finger, even a Teir'Dal's...

Slowly, he picked up the delicate work of art, and instictively read the inscription....

Looking back to the Shadow Knight beside him, his expression almost lost and totally unlike him, he whispered to her in a pained voice,"...Nanarie...?"

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

Impatience was clear, by the look on her face and the way her foot tapped the floor. All she saw within his eyes were confusion and then suddenly nothing. He turned his gaze from her to the necklace laying upon the table. She watched his careful movements as he pulled her keepsake to him and began to reveal the contents within. His loud outburst didn't even cause her to flinch, her composure was hard and determined. But the rest of the tavern grew eerily silent. The only sound was that of the ring as it made its way from the cloth to his plate then as it rolled and spun until it stopped before his eyes. What was going through his mind at this moment? Since they had been somewhat reacquainted, she had never seen anything but a cold look in his eyes and now he looked lost and confused. Could that mean something? Could he remember?

Then, he uttered her name, and with that she took the seat across from him. Placing her helm beside her seat and her sword against the wall. She looked at him, her eyes still a raging sea of blood and nodded.

"Do usstan look anymore familiar to thyne eyes?"

Her mind raced with questions and demands for an explanation for what had happened and where he had been since she last saw him, when he was still Vladdik.

She suddenly realized her throat was parched and her stomach rumbled with anger for its lack of attention. She looked behind her and spotted the bar keep apparently watching what had just happened in their corner. She raised hand, holding an imaginary mug of ale and patted her armored stomach, her way of requesting some ale and a hearty meal.

She turned back to the Tier'Dal she knew as Vladdik and looked within his eyes, "I must remember that dos are no longer the Tier' Dal I once knew."

But by nature, she refused to give up and was determined to make him remember.

"We shared a past, Vladdik. Ask of me what dos wish."

Her face still unchanged, pure hatred, and her voice was cold. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her left leg out, her left arm folded across her waist and letting her face rest in the palm of her right. hand. Her armor glinted in the faint lights of the tavern and her face was shadowed, even her eyes seemed dark and unseen.

Inside the Mind of The Apokolipz
{written by poApokolipz}

*The Apokolipz sits silent, his glassy eyes locked onto the ring before him, which gleamed in the light of the various candles, lanterns, and the firepit in the tavern. For several moments, he seems lost in his own thoughts... more than anyone could know or guess...*

--Images flash in his mind, brief memories of a past long forgotten. They are jumbled, a confusing wave of visions unlike any he could consciously remember.

His parents, one an officer in the Indigo Brotherhood and the other a member in the House of the Dead.

He was young, barely four by human standards, when they were murdered. And who was behind it remained lost in the past, locked in the mind of a child who couldn't possibly understand the political hands behind the scenes.--

*Nanarie sits at the table across from him, and the gazes of all look to them both in the brief silence; all of which goes unnoticed by the necromancer who only seems to focus on the ring...*

--Neriak, his home as long as he could remember. Fleeting memories of it as seen through the eyes of a child who only knows it as a place of safety, it's dark corners and deep earth scent comforting... and there was Nanarie, also as a child... his friend and playmate, they would run through the streets of Neriak creating childhood mischief in thier wake.

Nanarie, the girl he grew with as the years passed, when he was known as...Vladdik...--

*The patrons continue their conversations, the sounds of activity in the kitchen follow, and the shrill scream of another halfling being butchered rings out, adding its familiar tones to the tavern; all of which goes unheard by the Teir'Dal who only seems to focus on the the ring before him...*

--He began to follow in the footsteps of his mother the necromancers having taken him under their protection after her demise. He grew to a man and eventually graduated from the School of Necromancy, all the while continuing his growing relationship with Nanarie.

His masters at the House told him that his affections for her made him weak, that his heart was a tool meant to be used to control his blood's flow, not a messenger of his soul; to follow it would lead to disaster... but follow it he did...--


*Nanarie's words seem to go unheard, the bouncer's attention seems to go unnoticed, and the world seems lost in the mind of the Apokolipz...*

--Love, the tool of the enemies of Innoruuk, guided him. He sought to marry Nanarie. He procurred the crafting of a ring, its metal was midnight gold and its design was intricate and elegant. They were to elope the night its was finished.

That night he snuck away from the House of the Dead, beyond the Third Gate, through the Commons and the Foreign Quarter, to meet his love, Nanarie, in the Forest of Neklutos.

But, the undead of those woods attacked him as soon as he was out of earshot of the Indigo Brotherhood's patrols. They chased him into the forest, beyond the travelled paths, and into the area known as the Ultricle, the home of the walking dead...---

'...ssee, now you know...' the spirits whispered to him, as he stared at the ring laying on the table before him. '...ssshe sseekss to make you weak again...'

The Apokolipz blinked, his eyes watering from having been open for so long.

'...Innoruuk took that away from you, ssso you would be sstrong once again...'

He looked to the source of the whispers, an unseen entity to his immediate right.

'...Vladdik died that night...' the spirits continued. '...you are now the Apokolipz...'

Looking back to the beautiful ring on the table next to the half empty bowl of halfling eyes, he seemed to dwell on something, and then he reached out slowly and took the ring in his hand.

'...do not give in to your weaknesss...'

The Apokolipz's face grew cold and stern once again, becomming its usual icy expression. "I am the Apokolipz," he said in low tones. "My heart is a tool, nothing more."

'...and you are the Chosen...' the spirits assured him. '...the Chosen of Innoruuk...'

Nanarie and The Apokolipz {First Encounter} pt.2
She had come into The Butchered Halfling for one reason ... to eat. Once she had caught sight of the emotionless Necromancer her focus became elsewhere. She had to take this rare opportunity to figure out what she could. He was distant, obviously oblivious to her and who she was and what they were in the past. She remembered her conversation with her trainer in the knights guild, so she knew he wasn't Vladdik any longer. But that meant nothing to her.

Time seemed to pass slowly as she watched the Apokolipz, as he is known now, study the ring. He didn't answer her or ask her any questions and her patience began to wear very thin. The usual sounds in the pub began to spark back to life and all eyes seemed to drift from them to other things.

Finally Apokolipz reached out and picked up the ring and his face changed from the lost look he had just moments before to the icy glare he seemed to wear daily. Then he uttered words that tore at her being.

..."I am the Apokolipz,.....My heart is a tool, nothing more."

Her face turned white, like a wave of ice glazed her skin, then in a matter of seconds her eyes went from deep dark blood red to a bright fiery boiling red. She lunged forward and stopped herself only a few inches from his stern face,her eyes burning into his, her chest heaving beneath her breastplate and her fists clenched tightly as they supported her weight on the table.

"A tool....dosst heart, a mere tool?" She held her gaze for a few moments, anger in her eyes and the table creaking beneath her fists. "Dos really believe that? Look in ussta eyes and tell dosst self that dos believe that... if dos can." Her voice was calm but her eyes were angry.

She took her eyes off the Apokolipz when she glanced upon his bowl of halfling eyes and realized her initial reason for this visit to their House pub. She glanced up to see Darmoe, Lord of the House D'Orakaa sitting some tables away, then glanced to the Barkeep who seemed to refrain from approaching the table. She let out a small chuckle and shook her head, lifting her weight from the table and sitting back into her seat.

She sat for a minute... letting the Apokolipz do what he does best.... be silent.... and stood to her feet, the chair scooting backward against the floor. She headed to the bar, her armor clanking as she walked, her mood in an understandable state of pure burning anger. Taking a seat at the bar, she ordered the house's best and strongest ale and whatever specialty they served to kill the hunger that was tearing at the inside of her stomach. She removed her gauntlets, placed them on the seat next to her, interlaced her fingers and turned her palms outward, cracking her knuckles in frustration. When that hadn't soothed her she began to pop each finger individually, one foot a constant tap on the floor. She turned to glance at Darmoe, acknowledging him with a respectful nod, trying to her best ability to not show him the anger and dismay burning within her .... and failing miserably, she knew.

Iuzz walks into the tavern. He sees his new friend Nanarie sitting at the bar. He walks up to her, trying not to bump anyone's table, as he makes his way across the room.

"Hay t'air Nanarie, wuts you be doin? Iuzz cums to eets ands drinks sum beers." With that he sits down beside the Knight and looks around the room. He waves to Apokoliz, and then to Darmoe. He then looks for the bar keep for a drink.

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

Coldly, the Apokolipz watches as Nanarie leaves his table and heads to the bar. She certainly seemed upset by his response, but what else did she expect of him? A warm embrace, a loving kiss, cooing words of compasion and elation at seeing her beautiful face once again? No, these things are not traits the Apokolipz possesses. And so, she leaves him, brewing in her misunderstanding.

'...ssshe sservess Innoruuk...' the whispers told him.

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

'...yesss, her trap is her heart, her heart deceivess you both...' another spirit whispered.

The Apokolipz looked back to the woman, as she sat at the bar. Her blood red plate armor clinted in the firelight, except, of course, where the blood of her enemies was caked and dried. She seemed more muscled than his memories of her portrayed, yet still as beautiful. Iuzz, the large ogre he had known since his earliest memories after his rebirth, approached her. They both seemed intent on sustanence.

'...now ssshe sservess Innoruuk...'

'...her memoriess have made her sstrong...'

Yes, Apokolipz could see and feel the chaotic emotions of rage eminating from her. "What is Innoruuk's will in this, in her?" he whispered to the darkness.

'...her heart iss now Innoruuk's tool...'

"How so?" he asked, but he got no answer. 'Hate and rage are Innoruuk's Will,' he thought to himself. 'Nanarie's rage serves the Father of Hate. As long as I serve Innoruuk, Nanarie will as well.' The Apokolipz looked back towards her, the Teir'Dal from Vladdik's past.

A True Love Lost .....

Loud sobs and high pitched cries echoed through her empty house, people could hear her faint and muffled cries as they passed by. "Vladdik!" was the only comprehensible word that belted through her cries. Her face was drowned in tears, deep purple patches discolored her severly saddened and once youthful face, and her eyes had become swollen orbs of blood shot red. Her long white hair had become matted and disheveled in the weeks after Vladdik's death. As she sat on her cold stone floor images of the dreadful night played before her eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She sat at the ultricle for days and even through the dark cold nights, holding the remnants of his robe close to her. Disbelieving what lay before her, pieces of his tattered robe and the broken bones of his skeletal minion, she sat waiting for him to return... waiting to become his wife. The undead seemed to pay her no mind as they staggered by and others just seemed to stare. If any had spoke to her, it went unnoticed, and no one dared to touch her. A few stray tears were all that trailed her face as she sat in shock, a state that grew more intense and severe as the days passed.

The sounds of twigs breaking, footsteps and robes flapping in the night's wind were all ignored by the young Tier'Dal. After the first two days she quit turning at ever set of footsteps that seemed to get close to her. These footsteps only dared to disappoint her the very same as all the rest had, so she refused to turn around. A cold hand rested upon Nanarie's bare shoulder. startled she smacked his hand from her as she backed away on her hands and knees, Her heart pounded and her breathing became heavy. Her eyes hadn't rested in days so her vision failed accuracy. All she saw was a blurred vision of a Tier'Dal jaluk standing before her. Her heart took the chance to see what it desired, "My Love!" she bellowed as she staggered to her feet. In an instant she had wrapped her slender arms about his back, gripping his shoulders tightly. Her lips parted in a delighted smile as she lifted her eyes to meet his. The upward arch of her smile, as deep as it was, turned to an even deeper frown as her crystal white eyes finally took in the true face of the man she held so tightly against her.

"Why, M'lady, Nanarie, tis a pleasure to see dos as well. Very pleased, in fact, to receive such a greeting from dos." he confessed as he brushed the hair from her eyes. Letting go she backed away slowly, shaking her head as her eyes forced her to see some one else.

"Nau... nau... dos can naut be.... dos were just.... he was just... " she slowly backed herself into a tree and her body slid to the cold damp ground.

"M'lady.." confused, he quickly knealt down before her and gripped her shoulders in concern. "Nanarie, are dos well? Why are dos even out here this night?" taking in her appearance he realized she had been out here longer than just that night, her hands were dirty, with mud under her fingernails and even dirt smudged her face. Her gown had dirt where her knees sat for days in the dirt and grass. He took his hand and lifted her chin to meet his worried eyes "How long have dos been here?"

The sound of his voice only saddened her more. She took her right hand and touched his face, grazing his cheek, his nose and even ran a finger across his lips, still not understanding that he wasn't who she thought him to be. Her mind, or was it her heart, had decieved her. He grabbed her hand and look deep within her confused eyes. "Nanarie, tell ussa what happened... what troubles dos so?"

"Ussa apologizes, M'Lord, Vitorio, but ussta thought dos were... were .."

"Who m'lady?"

Slowly she brought out the tattered piece of cloth she still clenched tightly in her fist, handing it reluctantly to Vitorio. He took the cloth and spread it with both hands, gazing upon the elegant designs of what looked to have been part of a robe. He looked to Nanarie questioningly and all she could do was look from his eyes to the ground... a tear making its escape. "Look,.." she said as she pulled a long chain that hung from her neck out of the front of her bodice. As the chain rose, it revealed a ring, she grasped the ring in her hand holding it to her heart for a moment then opening her palm to show the proof of their intentions for Vitorio to see. She "We were to meet here... to be wed." glanced at him without moving her head, knowing it would pain him to hear this. "But when ussta arrived here three eves ago this .." she tapped the cloth "and the bones, there" she gestured with her arm in the direction of the bones beside him "were all usstan found of him and his minion. It is proof that he was here. Mayhap, he was injured and returned to the house of necromancy." she said hopefully but not believing her own words. His eyes dropped to the ring, it was crafted of midnight gold, intricate designs were elegantly portrayed around the rings outer side. His heart ached in the confession that she chose to wed another, and he let out a agonizing breath.

Vitorio cupped her hand with his as a lump formed in his breath for what he was about to make her see.

"Nanarie, listen to ussa. Vladdik would naut leave dos here for days awaiting his return. Dos know that. Do dos really believe he would go back to the city for injuries when his heart intended to marry dos?"

"But he..."

"He is gone, Nanarie. Look around dos...what dos have found is proof that he is gone. The smell of death still lingers here. Dos smell it, do dos naut?"

"Ussta doubts he will be returning, ussta believes that if he could return he would naut have waited three eve's, m'lady"

"Let me take dos back into the city ...."

She snatched her hand from his and shook her head, disbelieving his every word.

"Leave ussa be!"

"Ussta will do nau such thing." he said as anger filled his voice.

At first she stepped back but he stepped forward and embraced her. Together they stood in silence, her hand still clenched the ring that hung from her neck as it was pressed between their bodies the other hand dangled at her side as it held the few pieces of cloth she found. Her cheek rested on his chest as she looked blankly out into the forest, her eyes catching a faint sparkle in the moonlight. She walked to it and knealt done and picked up the small metal object. Her eyes opened wide in shock as she took in the object in her hand. Tears began to stream down her cheek as she realized what she had found. She couldn't deny it now. It was the matching ring to the one she had secured to her neck. On the inside was an inscription that wouldn't let her deny who this ring was for. She placed the ring on the proper finger of her left hand and began to sob uncontrollably.

"Come Nanarie. Usstan will take dos home." He scooped her up, and cradled her in his arms as he carried her to her empty house.

He placed her in her bed, under her silky covers and waited for her to drift off to a peaceful slumber. When, after a day, of her not resting she requested him to leave her. He had refused her many previous requests, concerned of her well being. But after he saw she would do well on her own he felt he could no longer deny her of what she wished. With a bow he looked to her and said his farewell and walked out of her home.

A True Love Gained
Nanarie wasn't always the icy glared, hate consume Knight she is today. Many seasons and one unfortunate event brought her to where she is, to who she is.

As a girl Nanarie was taught the manners and social graces of a proper lady. Her mother was of great stature, determined to have her only daughter marry a great man. A Tier'Dal of money and great power. A man who could give Nanarie a life any young woman would envy. She refused to let Nanarie follow any profession, other than that of a wife and mother. Her constant bantering of what a woman should and shouldn't do, grew tiresome and irritating to say the very least.

"Now, ussta child, dos should naut do such things." " A woman never does anything, but what her husband wishes of her." "A woman who lifts a sword, is not a lady." During these days, Nanarie took what her mother said as truth.

She hadn't known her father. He was never spoke of in their house and she only asked of him once.

"Dos need naut worry about such things. He is naut here and that is just how it is." It was all Nanarie knew and she was unaware that it should be any other way.


Throughout her years as a child she had a constant friend, by the name of Vladdik. One friend held constant from the time she was but a small, fragile little girl. She remembered the first time she ever saw Vladdik. Her mother was among friends, they were the gossiping sort. The type to point fingers at others misfortunes or even to those they disliked and whisper among themselves. They were about the city exchanging heard stories of others when they fell deathly silent as two women dressed in very expensive and well detailed robes each holding the small hands of a boy, maybe a few years older than herself, as the passed through the Commons. The young boy cast a long glance upon the little girl as he passed her by. She had seen him again the next day, alone, so she approached him. They talked for hours, learning of the others life and parents. Vladdiks mother was a Necromancer and his father, an officer of the Indigo Brotherhood. Just a few days after they met, Nanarie learned that he had been taken into the House of Dead, that day they met, and cared for after his mother's demise. There he began to work on his craft, following his mother. Since the day they met they formed a friendship, a strong bond that made them inseparable. Much to her mother's dislike.

They caused mischief about the city, Nanarie's mother receiving endless complaints from others. Everyday Nanarie heard the bantering of a disapproving mother. But that held no restraint on the havoc they reeked.

Her mother's attempts to mold Nanarie to a proper lady ended one eve, when her mother decided to leave.The night she left Nanarie was standing at her window, Vladdik sitting below the window sill just outside, recalling the mischief they caused just a few hours earlier. She and Vladdik listened and watched as her mom quietly slipped from their home, bearing a hooded cloak and a bag. They remained in silence, unaware at that moment what was happening. Nanarie was in her teen years, when her mom left. A few days past she had overheard women about the city engaged in gossip and that was when she learned her mother had conceived a child with a man Nanarie had only met once. She understood shortly after, that her mother left her and their home together for a man and possibly another life, having become the very woman she would gossip about. At times, she would miss the bickering they shared and the nagging her mother loved to do when Nanarie failed in doing what a lady should. There were many times Nanarie felt abandoned and all alone. She adjusted to the sudden change in their household and reveled in her new found freedom.

Years passed and she grew to be a well bred young woman of fine social graces, fitting only that of a Tier'Dal woman. Her bond with Vladdik grew deeper as the days came and left. He succeeded in completing his craft becoming a skilled Necromancer. The relationship became more than a simple friendship. Their bond grew strong and unbreakable. They decided to get each other a ring for the day they would marry. They went about having their rings fashioned of midnight gold, elegantly and intricately designed. A true masterpiece and the very symbols of their love. The night the rings were to be finished, they were to elope.

One early morn, Vladdik snuck into her room and gazed upon her sleeping figure. She rolled over to her other side, moaning slightly in the comforts of her dream just as Vladdik slipped a small scroll, secured with a black ribbon, into her hand. He was gone before the light touch could awaken her. Feeling a presence, Nanarie awoke, looking about her room. She smiled to herself for she knew who she felt and turned to lay her head upon her pillow when she saw the faint light from outside cast upon a rolled up piece of parchment. She quickly ran to the window, scroll in hand, and stuck her head out the window, hoping to catch her visitor. Minutes passed and she tore her searching eyes away and returned to the calm of her room, shutting the window with one hand, as she held the scroll to her breast with the other. Her body slid to the cold floor while she carefully untied the ribbon and unrolled the parchment and it read:

My Beloved,

They have been finished. If dos shall still have me, meet me at the Ultricle this eve. I will be there waiting for dos, and we shall be wed.

Aluve my Love,
Vladdik

She smiled as she folded the parchment and tucked it under her pillow, and lay back in bed. Her heart delighted that the night would soon be upon them.

That night finally, yet slowly arrived. She pulled her favorite gown, of the deepest blue trimmed in silver, from her trunk and slipped it on. She pulled her ebony hooded cloak from the wall it hung on and fastened it about shoulders. She left the house and pulled the hood over her head, it was a cold night so she wrapped the cloak tightly about her slender body. She made her way as fast as she could through the city and into the dark forest of Nektulus, to the Ultricle, determined and anxious. Her destination finally met, Vladdik was nowhere in sight. It was eerily quiet, more so than usual. The dead always seemed to roam around the ultricle but tonight, at least at this moment, it was bare. She glanced about and her eyes fell upon the ground a few paces in front of where she stood. Her eyes wide and her lips parted in horror. She collapsed to the ground, her face only revealed shock and dismay. She crawled to where scraps of a very intricately designed robe lay scattered about bones. His minion.... His robes... but where was he? She looked a bit further only to discover blood and the smell of death. She wept uncontrollably. She lost him, the very night they were to be wed, she lost him. Rage, scorn, anger and Hate enveloped Nanarie from that moment on.


Months passed and Nanarie's eyes had slowly turned from the crystal white they once had been to a deep dark shade of red.

There was a young man about her age, by the name of Vitorio. He had been the son of a family friend for as long as she could remember. At one period in their life he was more than just her friend. He later became her confidant when her and Vladdik fell in love and planned to elope, and her only friend when he passed. He had always been protective of her and cared deeply, far deeper than he should have. But he wasn't Vladdik. The bond wasn't the same. He had offered her his heart after the passing of Vladdik. But after many times of her refusing, he was more determined to protect her and befriend her. He never pushed her to love him, he only hoped. He tried to pick up her broken pieces many times but she only turned a cold shoulder on him. She had become cold hearted and uncaring to everyone around her. She hated to be touched, she hated to be cared for and more than anything... she refused to care for another. He watched her emotional downfall when she told him what had happened. He was a mage of Innoruuk himself, but it pained him to see her go from the lady she was to the fighter she soon would become. She began training in the arts of a Shadow Knight and Vitorio watched her as she became dark and sinister. She became a avid follower of Innoruuk, slowly slipping into the Dark Lord's favor. Hatred was all she knew, all she accepted, all she gave.

Seasons passed and she became a skilled Knight. She took a break from her usual chaotic hunting ritual and decided to visit her trainers. Most of them knew her story and it remained gossip since she refused to marry Vitorio. They seemed to know everything about her. She hadn't cared what people said about her and her choices she let them talk and make their own assumptions, they just reminded her of her mother. She made her way to Third Gate, stopping by various merchants, selling her newly looted good for as much coin as she could get out of those stingy bastards, then continued to the front gates of Shadow Knight guildhall. As she made her way down the ramp and approached the front steps, she almost bumped into a almost too familiar face in expensive robes. She still looked at him intently, knowing his face, but refusing to believe it. She removed her helmet hoping to get a better look at him without the burden of her armor to hinder her view. She thought that if he was who he resembled he would recognize her, no doubt. He stared at her for a second and went about his way. She kept her eyes on him as his figure disappeared beyond the front gate. She continued to walk backward almost tripping over the stairs. She turned and pushed the door open then walked to her trainer, Nezzka Tolax.

"Ahh, young Nanarie, how have dosst hunts been?"

" What does dos wish to excell in this day?" Nanarie kept looking behind her at every possible entrance to the room she was in.

" Young Knight, what troubles dos?" Her eyes returned to Nezzka and they had but a slight spark of depth to them.

" Who was that young man that just left here?"

"Ahh that young man is the Apokolipz, he was a successful rebirth, knightess."

"Rebirth? Who was he before?" Nezzka stopped at the realization of why she was asking. Nanarie seeing the look in his eyes inquired again.

" Who was he?"

Nezzka tried to avoid her inquiry once again, "So, what is it dos wish to learn today? More training in Archery? Alteration? Conjuration? Or perhaps a new language? What haven't dos learned yet?"

Nanarie's eyes gleamed a bright blood red, raging like an angry sea of blood. Her anger emanating through her eyes. "Usstan play nau games! Tell me, Nezzka, who was that young man before his rebirth? That is what usstan wish to learn!"

Nezzka sighed and grabbed Nanarie by the arm. She thrust her arm from his grasp and he simply beckoned her to follow. They slipped into a tiny vacant room up the stairs.

"Dos may wish to sit..."

"Usstan am fine. Out with it!"

His voice turned low and he took in a deep breath. She knew who he was gonna say that man used to be.

"That, M'Lady, is ... or rather..was Vladdik. He has no recollections of his past so do naut even waste dosst time. He knows naut who dos are, or that dos shared a past."

Ignoring his last comment she took a few deep breaths, her chest heaving in anger. "Why was Usstan naut informed about his rebirth? Why did DOS naut tell usst? Dos knew of our past...of ussta pain. Yet, dos fail to tell usst?"

In her rage she hadn't realized the loudness in her voice. She had no control at this point and took her fist to the table, breaking it into pieces, then in another swift move of her arm she slammed it into the stone wall. Tiny pieces of rubble fell to the floor , her fist stung for a min but she enjoyed it.

" If he lives....and that truly is him... Usstan shall find him." She turned back to her trainer and her eyes glared at him with pure hatred then she turned and walked out.

She made it out of third gate and through the commons, to the foreign quarter and then the forest of Nektulos she leaned against the wall looking out to the forest and removed the glove from her swollen hand. She could feel the flesh tear off her knuckles as the glove came off. She smiled in a pleased sort of way, pain usually affected her that way. She brought her fist to her lips and licked the blood from her knuckles. She called on a minion and commanded him to hold her glove and helm. He took it obediently and she took out a bandage and wrapped her fist. Her smile turned to a grin, a grin so evil that her minion stepped back a bit.

"They wish usst to stay away, ussta pet, but Usstan do naut think usstan will." She held her fist as she stared into the dark forest. "We have quite a search ahead of us. Let us naut delay.