Chapter Text
Emmrich waved both hands over the skeleton prone on the slab before him. A wisp floated toward the skeleton and was just about to settle within the skull when two red-cloaked individuals burst into the room, breaking the necromancer’s concentration. The wisp floated away.
Emmrich raised his eyebrows in surprise, his hands paused mid-air as he took a moment to compose himself. Quite put-out by the interruption, he managed to speak. “Where are my manners? Greetings; how may I be of assistance?”
As he finished his query, the men responded by pulling out their weapons. Everything about their clothes and weapons were angular and very, very red.
“Venatori,” Emmrich angled his chin and sniffed as if a foul stench permeated the air. “How ever did you get this far?” He raised his hands, limned with green necrotic magic. “You should not have come here.”
“You’re coming with us, necromancer,” one of the cultists said.
Emmrich shook his head. “I think not,” he said as he sent a wave of necrotic magic toward them, the green force making them lose their balance.
The cultists shuffled back to their feet and lunged with their weapons aimed at the necromancer’s neck. Moments before the blades were to hit their mark, Emmrich sent a wave of time-slowing magic, rendering their mid-air attack too slow to make any impact. Emmrich stepped to the side and gathered more necrotic energy around his hands and sent forth a blast of skull-shaped magic, sending the Venatori falling backward once again. The slow motion effect stopped moments before they connected with a nearby stone pillar. Falling to the sandy ground, they wobbled to their feet.
Pausing to look at each other, the two men turned and ran down the opposite hall, accepting that they were outmatched. Emmrich followed in quick pursuit, teleporting in their direction every few yards and keeping up with ease. The necromancer wore the kind of smirk that was predatory, a warrior protecting his territory, knowing his victory was imminent.
Clumsily, the two scrambled up the stone steps of the nearby staircase and down another short hall before approaching an elevator. They hesitated before jumping inside, slamming the flimsy gates shut behind them and pulling the lever.
With a final teleport at the base of the elevator, Emmrich released a haughty sigh. Extending a leisurely hand, he sent a wave of simple magic around a nearby pebble. Holding his magic steady, he maneuvered the pebble through the air until it jammed the gears of the elevating mechanism. The cultists cried out as they realized they were trapped within, too high up to jump and too far down to climb.
Emmrich meandered back to the room in which his duties waited, taking his time and resolving to find Myrna after reaching a stopping point at an opportunity more convenient for his schedule.
Perhaps a few hours in their current containment would render the cultists more malleable for questioning.
~*~
Emmrich waved both hands over the skeleton prone on the slab before him. A wisp floated toward the skeleton and settled within the skull. The skeleton slowly hefted itself off the slab, picked up a pickaxe, and ambled toward the rest of the mining skeletons.
From the corner of his eyes, he watched as two visitors approached him. As they got closer, he saw that they were two elves, dressed in garments quite different from the robes often found amongst the Mourn Watch. Their vestments appeared more suited to adventuring through diverse terrain than preparing the dead. One elf was on the shorter side, her black hair tied in a large bun. Her companion stood next to her, and Emmrich had to admit that her companion was quite fetching. He composed himself and willed his manners to the forefront; at least these individuals did not appear to be Venatori.
“Ah, visitors! What a marvelous surprise! Any trouble with the lift? Our last guests were stuck for hours, poor souls!”