With all the proper materials in place, the last piece of the new suit was ready to be put together. The treated leather was cut into shape, small plates of metal bolted into the underside of the gambeson. It was repetitive work, but the shop's tools helped speed it along if only a little. The end result was a strong, flexible coat of iron and hide, snug and protective. Magnus' excitement was near palpable throughout the final stretch of forging, and almost as soon as the gambeson was put together, he requested to try it on. Everything about the kit they had constructed was drawing him in. The sleek, dark shade of the metal contrasting with the deep blue hues of the leather were gorgeous to look at, and his previous thoughts of looking like a real knight in the setup were returning in full force.<br/><br/>Sheolred, in the mean time, kicked backed and relaxed over Grog.<span style="color: lightgreen">"How's the armor fit ya, Magnus?"</span>Sheolred's speech was only slightly slurred. It seemed like she could sober up as quickly as she could become inebriated. The growl from Sheo's stomach warned Magnus of the coming storm.<span style="color: lightgreen">"Atch! I haven't eaten a damn thing since we got here! Magnus! Let's go!"</span>Sheol jumped to her feet and marched out the door. Or at least that was her original intention as she tripped over her feet and fell on her face. At least she managed not to spill any Grog. On the ground Sheol whimpered like a small child.<span style="color: lightgreen">"Maaaaaagnus! I'm hungry!"</span><br/><br/>After putting together the suit, Magnus had wasted no time in dressing himself up in it. He flexed his arms, moving them around in circular arcs to test the range of motion that the metal was giving him. It felt very natural, almost like he was hardly wearing anything at all. "Like a glove," He responded, picking up the helmet from the table to examine it. "I'm really feeling it." The armet was turned over, and he moved it towards his head with the intention to put it on. A loud thud behind him stopped him from doing so, and he was met with the sight of Sheo on the floor.<br/><br/>"...Oh, dear." The whines were met with a sympathetic sigh, and instead of putting the helmet on, Magnus let it rest on the table once again before he made his way over to Sheo's side. He crouched, taking a moment to admire how well the leg armour flexed with his motions, then offered her a hand. "Let's go get something to celebrate then, hm? Putting together something this great deserves a commemoration!"<br/><br/><span style="color: lightgreen">"Yaaay~"</span>Sheold let out a childlike cheer as she jumped to her feet and grabbed Mangus by the hand. She pulled him out of the forge, making sure to take his helmet as she walked by, until they were both basked in the sun's light.<span style="color: lightgreen">"Lead the way, sir knight!"</span>Sheolred said playfully. Despite being a woman who's likely twice Magnus's age, she played the part of a young girl on a date. Must be the alcohol, and perhaps a midlife crisis.<span style="color: lightgreen">"We should show off your new armor, let them bask in the glory of my craftsmanship!"</span>Dramatically throwing her arms into the air, Sheolred nearly stumbled onto her back if she didn't land against Magnus.<br/><br/>Magnus considered the words Sheo said to him.<span style="font-style: italic">"Sir knight,"</span>he repeated in his thoughts. A small smile crossed his face. He could get used to that. Nodding, he took lead on the way out of the forge. Showing off the new suit would be as easy as walking around with it on, though he did intend to add a bit of flair to it. Walking with a proud stance, he sauntered along the roads with an ever-growing smile, giving small waves of greeting to anyone who happened to look his way while they walked. He was loving this.<br/><br/>Turning to say something to Sheoldred, he noticed just in time she was about to topple, so he quickly swooped in to catch her before she hit the ground. "Careful!" He blurted out, sliding a few centimeters upon actually making contact with her. As she was quite a bit larger than he was, he nearly went to the ground as well, but he managed to remain standing in a somewhat ungraceful position. "Are you sure we should be walking?" He teased, a slight laugh in his voice.<br/><br/>Giggling lightly Sheolred propped herself onto her feet, standing before Magnus.<span style="color: lightgreen">"Are you offering to carry me, my knight?"</span>But she laughed off the notion that Magnus could carry Sheolred. She could barely carry herself at times. The growling from her stomach reminded Sheol of what they were doing and she stepped to Magnus's side, leaning on his body for support as her steps were still wobbly.<span style="color: lightgreen">"Come on now, let's go find something to eat!"</span><br/><br/>While she was right that Magnus likely couldn't carry her around, it wasn't beyond his courtesy to try. At the very least, he could offer support as they walked along. He looped her arm around his shoulders, and put his own arm around her waist, then continued along on their way. "I'm thinking Alftar food, personally," He suggested. "Any preferences?" They neared the part of town that was mostly residences and restaurants, advertised with signs of various flamboyancy and craftsmanship.<br/><br/>Things as simple as printed wood blocks hung beside glorious crafts of elven glass, and the city's two-layered architecture was used to its full extent. Archways with staircases carved into the stone led to the upper layer of the district, and bridges across the tops of larger arches connected road crossings. The air held many strong scents, roasting meats and baking breads alike drawing in customers. The elven stops were all easy to spot; if not for the fanciness of the sign or the foreign languages written upon them, the presence of small dragons from foreign visitors showed clearly that there was an Eridisian population. They had plenty of options here.<br/><br/>Sheolred let her nose guide her. Alftan, Oghren, Aveyn, the only type of food she was interested in eating was the one that smelled the best. Soon enough her nose picked up something interesting and tugged Magnus in it's general direction. Soon the two came across a place called the Wounded Bull. Sure enough the smell of freshly slaughtered bovine was in the air, salivating Sheolred's taste buds. She searched her body for her coin purse, and saw that it had a few bits inside, including what she thinks might be a raw gemstone she found while mining iron. Hopefully this place didn't charge too much, because she was going to eat as much as she drank. That is to say, more then necessary.<span style="color: lightgreen">"Let's eat here!"</span><br/><br/>Arriving at the building of choice for the second time that day, Magnus answered. "Perfect." As well as providing sustenance, there was a chance to check on some of the others after they were finished with their business. As they neared the door, he opened and held it, bowing his head lightly. "Ladies first." He still sounded absolutely giddy, and may have been playing up the 'knight' thing a bit, but it was clear he was having one hell of a time just wearing the suit. Chivalry wasn't dead, and it was fueled by goofy excitement. The interior of the building was as it had been earlier, fairly bustling with people of all sorts. A band of bards was playing a lovely tune near the corner, and a fresh barrel of ale was being dragged behind the counter as they entered. With the door open, the smell of food cooking intensified, and Magnus himself realized that he hadn't had much to eat that day either. A small growl came from his stomach, and he placed a hand over his midsection with a pout of slight embarrassment.<br/><br/><span style="color: lightgreen">"AAAAAAWWWEEEE YEEEEAAAAAAAHHH! I WANT A BULL'S HEAD, FULLY ROASTED, BRAINS AND ALL!"</span>Sheolred's childish demeanor immediately dropped for a much more familiar persona of a boisterous drunkard. She marched in and placed her order with the nearest waitress, who either was too scared to deny the drunken brute of a woman, or they actually could serve Sheolred a whole bull's head. Either way the waitress left Sheol, and she noticed the others not too far away.<span style="color: lightgreen">"Hey! Never thought I'd see you all here!"</span>Sheolred shouted over the hustle and bustle of the establishment and made her way over to the other members of the ragtag band of misfits.<br/><br/><br/>---<br/><br/>Atisha took note of what Verigan had told her thus far. She looked at the small purple gem that he had placed in her hand. She wasn't sure how fragile such a thing was, or what sort of object she could attach this to. While Verigan had a staff, Atisha had another ideal.<span style="color: goldrenrod">"Hmm... What about say, a gauntlet? Could that, if made from the right materials, be used as a catalys?"</span>Atisha perfered to keep her hands open. While she would later look into finding familiars, for now she'll settle with a focusing device. She could have Sheolred make her something later while Atisha researched on local demon populations.<br/><br/>Pocketing the gemstone Atisha also wanted to see more of the dark mage's magic in action. Of course he couldn't exactly show the full extent of his ability in this cramped little cart. She would hold her second question until Verigan awnsers her first. A low churning feeling in Atisha's stomach also alerted her to the fact that she hadn't eaten in quite a while. But she can stave off hunger and feed on knowledge. For now.<br/><br/>Leaning back in his seat, the elder mage put both hands atop his cane's head. He'd seen quite a few unusual catalysts in his day. Anything from a dagger to a crown could technically be used, though things attached to or held in the arms were easier to manage in his experience. "Oh, yes, of course. Depending on what sort of spells you're casting, it could be preferable to a wand or staff. What sort of build are you looking into? Fully enclosing, or something more like a bracer?" Freed hands could aid with dark miracles, given the blood sacrifice that some involved, but Atisha's choice in catalysts would hardly have much of an effect starting off.<br/><br/><span style="color: goldenrod">"Something open handed. I rely on my dexterity when my magics fail me. I'm... Not quite certain how a braclet, glove, ring, or what-have-you would function as a catalsys to be honest. It was simply something that crossed my mind."</span>Atisha did have some vague idea of how it would work, as she uses her own magic staff in a similar fashion, albiet it was more of a natural thing to do rather than something she has any real knowledge of. Her staff simply serves as a decent catalsys because it is already magical, and this could channel her magics with reletive familiarty. Still, she has never tried such a thing with her dark miracles.<br/><br/><span style="color: goldenrod">"In fact, would you mind if we leave this wagon and allow me to watch you demostrate your magics? I understand that it's not... Openly approved, so I will understand if you refuse."</span><br/><br/>"It might require a bit more focus than something being held. Wands and such direct, but something worn is more for drawing power than sending it out. It all depends," Verigan explained. "Of course, once you've learned enough, you can draw dark power without a catalyst, but it's hard to manage. If your gauntlet is open, then I'd suggest at least keeping<br/>the gem on the back of your hand. It'll be right near the palm, and easy enough to direct." Ethereal power, intangible as it was, could be complicated in its use. Dexterity would certainly help to some degree.<br/><br/>A demonstration, while risky within the city, might have proved very useful in teaching. "Surely. Forgive me if this is too stereotypical, but I believe the cemetary's barrows might be a good place to show a few things off. Less people snooping around, and the locals will hardly complain."<br/><br/>Nodding her head silently Atisha gathered her things and stepped out of the cart, followed by Verigan. She played with the gem in her pocket, ideas of how to utilize such a thing flowing in and out of her mind.<span style="color: goldenrod"><span style="font-style: italic">"Perhaps a knife instead? Yes, but the gem in the pommel of a dagger, allow my magic to flow through the blade. Or perhaps a broach. Typical, but pratical. I only need it to gather the energies after all. Or maybe... Maybe even implant it in my own flesh..."</span></span>Atisha's mind ran various simulations of what she would do with the gem, and what sort of things she could do once she mastered her dark powers.<br/><br/>But first things first, they needed to head to the graveyard.<span style="color: goldenrod">"I'm not quite familiar with this town. Would you lead, sir Verigan?"</span><br/><br/>"Surely. Let's get going." Verigan stood, opening the door to the carriage on his way up. Swiftly descending the steps, he gathered up the trinkets on display ahead of it, stowing them inside a small chest. Couldn't have anyone running off with them while he was gone. He waited until Atisha was out as well, then put the box of oddities onto the carriage floor, closing the door behind it. A tap of his cane to the lock sent a small pulse of magic into the door, sealing it securely.<br/><br/>"It's near the westernmost wall, kept closed off by a fence. The people here must not be fans of undead wandering about." There was doubt that this part of Ardon had any errant demons wandering about that could raise hell with a single city's graveyard, no matter how large it was, but he did admire the precautions. Back home, there were all sorts of nasty things running around. It was a welcome change to see people actually care about the sanctity of their dead.<br/><br/>Making his way down the street, he led his student towards the place of rest through the quickest route he knew of. A few alleys were cut, and a couple walks up and down the staired arches cut down on time that might otherwise be spent holding up traffic on a busy ground street. Soon enough, the graveyard came into view. Within the center of it stood a tall oak, surrounded on all sides by large bulges in the ground. Burial mounds, each one holding many tombs beneath the ground. As he had mentioned, a tall fence secured the yard, locked from the outside. He took hold of the lock, little more than a steel bar resting in a set of holders, and pushed it up and out of the way. The iron bars creaked open, and they were given access to the graves.<br/><br/>"I'd suggest we go underground for this. More room to work with. Pick whichever one you want, they're probably all connected once we're far down enough," Verigan explained. Before entering the graveyard properly, he made an odd motion, holding his hand past the frame for a few seconds as if testing something. After rolling his wrist, he lowered his arm again and walked in, taking a moment to observe the barrows and make sure there were no caretakers around.<br/><br/>Peering into the darkness Atisha opened her hand to create hellfire. Despite it's origins, it looked like any normal flame. The deception was another bonus of it's ability, as well as it's illuminating properties. Atisha couldn't see that well in the blackness. Still there was a moment of hesitation on Atisha's part. Despite wanting this, disturbing the undead seemed... Dangerous. Gulping down her fears however Atisha took the lead through the tombs and into the catacombs.<br/><br/>It wasn't long before Atisha was lost. While Verigan would surely know the way out, Atisha could only rely on guesses to figure out where she was. She wasn't even sure how far beneath the ground she had gone. Her paranoia increased as she realized that down here, no one would hear her if Verigan tried to harm her. She tried not to let the fear show on her face and simply continued onwards until at least she reached what seemed to be a large hall. solid stone pillars kept the ceiling up, and lining the walls were hundreds, if not thousands of stone or wooden caskets snugly fitted into holes in the walls. Atisha was going to need to dismiss her flame or light a torch if she wanted to bring a corpse out to use her magic on.<br/><br/><span style="color: goldenrod">"Verigan, I don't suppose you have a torch or lantern I could use?"</span><br/><br/>Verigan followed close behind, guiding himself along with use of his cane until Atisha formed a spark of hellfire. Illumination would be more useful than fumbling around in the dark, so he instead turned his cane over and rested it atop his shoulder as they descended into the barrows' depths. The dark was overpowering, and it was clear that nothing in the tomb had seen sunlight for decades, even centuries. As they reached the hall of the dead, Verigan stopped near the center of the room, searching for sconces on the walls. No torches were lit, but with sufficient focus, they could still get some use out of them.<br/><br/>"I don't, but the builders of this place were kind enough to provide rests for some." He once again flipped his cane, and held the small moulded skull at the top over an empty sconce. The gems within it glowed, and hellfire similar to Atisha's poured out of the catalyst, forming a floating orb of burning energy. He drew his cane back, repeating the action over a few other sconces on the pillars. The ethereal flames looked odd, floating without any apparent source, but provided some degree of light.<br/><br/>Soon the room was lit well enough that Atisha no longer needed to maintain her own Hellfire to see, however the light was still dim. Looking around she noticed that most of the caskets had a small plaque on them, likely to identify the remains within. Atisha looked for a plaque of a corpse whom had no identifier, just to ease her guilt of using the body of the dead. Fortunately for her she found one, the body of a vagabond who had died of exposure last winter. Because of his poor status he was only given a wooden casket. Pulling the casket from it's slot Atisha dragged it to the center of the hall.<br/><br/>From here she wasn't sure what else she needed to do. Obviously open the casket, but what then? What magic would she need to bring the dead back to life? She has her notes, sure, but no practice.<span style="color: goldenrod">"Verigan? I have a body here. If you would... Demostrate your necromancy?"</span><br/><br/>Watching and waiting, Vergian stood by while Atisha searched for a body. He could understand moral reservations about raiding a tomb. Necromancy was a very dark art, and in the past, he held similar hesitation towards just throwing any corpse he could find into the fray. He was less worried about it now, given that bodies could hardly complain, but it wasn't something he would scoff at others for feeling.<br/><br/>He moved towards the casket, holding his cane in his right hand while he raised his left. A purple aura surrounded his fingers, emphasized by the slow motions he made with them. "Remember what I said about soul energy earlier. Necromancy is the manipulation of remnants of spiritual power in a corpse. The older a body gets, the less that remains," He began, lowering his hand towards the dead vagabond. He pressed the palm of his glove against the body's chest, forcing the dark energy gathered around him into it. "But that's easily fixed by providing some for them. Once they've been given enough, you must exert control over your undead. They tend to get<span style="font-style: italic">disagreeable</span>if allowed to roam free."<br/><br/>As the aura on his hand faded, he took a step back and tapped his cane against the ground firmly. At the impact, the sound echoed through the halls, and the dry corpse's eyelids slowly opened. Where the eyes once were, two purple orbs of dark power sat. Slowly, it began to move, limbs creaking and dried tendons snapping as it rose. The sound was extremely unpleasant, and the jerky motions the body displayed as it sat up and rended its limbs apart were deeply unnerving. It was little wonder that the living feared the undead, but Verigan had seen the motions so many times it hardly affected him. With another tap of his cane on the ground, the raised zombie stood, arms still partially folded from ages of drying and decomposition. It twitched erratically, jaw repeatedly going agape and shutting as its head slowly swayed.<br/><br/>Atisha    let out a gasp as the dead rose up. Though it's been barely one year since the man died, his body was mostly bones and tendons, and  yet   through dark magic he was moving once more. But was he truly  alive, or   merely a puppet?<span style="color: goldenrod">"So is he... Living? Or  simply  undead?"</span>Walking around to get a better view of the  moving  corpse Atisha kept a hand on the hilt of her hidden daggers.  While she was certain that Verigan had more than enough control over  this corpse, Atisha was going to be careful. If for some reason it went rogue, she wouldn't hesitate to throw a knife between it's eyes.<br/><br/>"No true life is left in this creature. His soul moved on long ago, at least the part that made him human. What's left are scattered remnants of power, the fuel of life, burnt out to near emptiness by death and time. He's as dead as he was when you pulled that box out of the wall. There's no humanity in this hollow shell." Verigan raised his cane a little, resting his free hand on his hip as he waved the walking stick around. The zombie creaked and groaned, forcibly extending one of his dry old arms. With a few more directions, the corpse raised a leg and bent it at the knee, while its other hand extended upward. The entire time, groans and the sound of laboured breath through dessicated organs escaped him.<br/><br/>"Because of that, this creature's powered almost entirely by dark. One step into the sun, or a big enough light miracle, and he'd be dust in an instant. Zombies on their own aren't supremely useful, but get enough in one place and you can cause all sorts of havoc." Verigan tapped his cane on the ground, and the zombie returned to its neutral state, head and limbs twitching every few seconds.<br/><br/><span style="color: goldenrod">"I... I see...."</span>The young woman's mind thought about what Verigan said. There was no true life left in the creature... So perhaps bringing her parents back was impossible. But she wasn't going to let that single statement stop her. She would continue to learn and find a loophole, an out, a way to circumvent the idea that she can't ressurect her family. But for now she needs to learn the basics of Necromancy.<br/><br/><span style="color: goldenrod">"How difficult is it to control more than one? I mean, perhaps it simply because this body is old, but aside from apperances he... He hardly seems that threatening."</span>Threatening in the sense that she doubt this zombie could even move fast enough to not get hit by a closing door. She could understand why they would need to be created en masses, since induvidaully it seems like the undead were rather pathetic.<br/><br/>"It requires more focus and more power. In the case of zombies, at least, it'll be easier to prepare and control them if the corpse is fresher. One like this has nary a spark of soul left in it. A freshly fallen body would be able to function much like it did in life. Of course, there are other kinds of undead one can put together. This old boy's bones would be more useful than his flesh," Verigan explained. Indeed, the flesh of the zombie was more a prison towards its movement than any sort of aid. Dry and withered, badly preserved, it was a terrible choice for creating a functional undead.<br/><br/>For practice, however, it would do fine. Verigan drew the zombie closer to him, and placed his hand over the undead's chest. With a tap of his cane, he sucked the power he put into the corpse out, and it fell to the ground. Holding the purple aura in his palm, he took a step back and directed Atisha forward. "Go on, give it a try."<br/><br/>Atisha stepped towards the corpse. While it was her first try she wasn't going to let fear overtake her. She shouldn't have been so quick however. Holding the crystal in her hand, Atisha quickly gathered whatever necrotic energy she could muster and directed it to the corpse. The discharge of energy was messy, or looked like it, but soon the corpse began to stir. Thinking that it was going well so far Atisha tried to give it an order.<br/><br/><span style="color: goldenrod">"I... I guess I just need to tell it what to do, right? Stand up."</span><br/><br/>Sure enough, after much moaning and poping noises, the corpse got onto it's feet. Then it began to wander off.<span style="color: goldenrod">"What? Come back here!"</span>Thinking what to do, Atisha raised her gem at the corpse and focused more energy towards it.<br/><br/>As the scene unfolded, Verigan watched and waited, interested in seeing how Atisha would do on her first attempt. Necromancy could get complicated, and at the very least, the dessicated old zombie could hardly do much damage of things got out of hand. As the undead rose once more, the elder mage stood by with his hands atop his cane, channeling a small amount of power just in case he needed to stop the lesson.<br/><br/>"Well, there he goes." He gave Atisha another few moments, but when the zombie got too far, he instead raised his cane and pointed it forward. A small purple bolt was launched from the gem embedded in it, and upon hitting the zombie, the corpse stopped moving. "You managed to raise a fully grown person, and one with barely any power left in it. That's very good progress," He said very sincerely. "But for control, I'd recommend attempting your arts on lesser beings. Once you've got a hang of it, you'll find it comes naturally. Go on, try to call him over now."<br/><br/>Atisha was a bit angry that she lost control of the zombie so easidly. Granted Verigan said that all things considered she did well, but she would have no use in a zombie that she can't command. Perhaps practice is what she needed, and isn't that what they're here to do?<span style="color: goldenrod">"Return to me."</span>Raising her crystal at the zombie, it slowly shambled back to Atisha. The rotting corpse stood before Atisha, and feeling unsatisfied with it, she looked over some of the other caskets. She needed a fresher body, at most a month old. While she wasn't exactly going to go murder someone for a fresh corpse, anything would be better than this rotting carcas.<br/><br/>A few hours passed. Atisha could hardly keep track of time in the darkness, but slowly she was getting a hang of her necromancy. She had used the first zombie to retrieve a fresh(er) corpse for her, and using that one she used Verigan's guidance to maintin more control over it. As the body was fresher, it was much more limber, capable of almost human-level agility and strength. While no warrior, without the same limitations of pain she could make the corpse do much more, such as running around endlessly or fighting beyond a natural stamina and pain thresh hold. After she was able to handle one, Verigan helped her control even more. It was very difficult, and at best she could manage five zombies at her full potential. It was a strain on her mind and body to provide life for all five, and more to make them do anything more complicated than "Move here" or "Stop". But hypothetically speaking, if she faces off against those assassins again she would have no problems raising their corpses and turning them against their former allies, with as much deadly effeciency in death as they did in life. Of course that's assuming her allies don't butcher the corpses up first. While ressurecting a dismembered corpse was slightly easier than a whole one, it was far less useful.<br/><br/>As Atisha's stamina waned, she chose to end the training now. She had accomplished much in a short time, more so since this was her first time practicing true Necromancy. She had the corpses return to their caskets one by one, and when she came to the last she simply used her magic to create a rough skeleton out of various bones scattered around the hall. As far as their strength went, they were rather weak, but on average even a bare skeleton was faster and slightly more durable than a zombie. At the very least, she guessed that edged weapons weren't going to harm it as much as a blunt force would.<br/><br/>After returning the corpses to their resting place Atisha formed another ball of hellfire in her hand and turned to Verigan.<span style="color: goldenrod">"I think that's enough practice for today. Thank you Verigan, for giving me this opprotunity. I think it's getting late however, and I should really return to my party. And..."</span>Atisha took a moment to ponder her next course of action. While she had done well so far, she could use someone like Verigan to teach her more about the dark arts. While Necromancy was her main interest, to be able to learn about demons and curses could also prove useful to her. But what she would need is to give Verigan a reason to accompany her and her group. Than we remembered the question Verigan asked her before he accepted training her.<br/><br/><span style="color: goldenrod">"In truth, my group has taken it upon themselves to hunt down those assailants. The family of the destroyed store wanted justice to be done, and so we oblidged them. I can't say for certain I know what we're getting ourselves into, but I'd be more than happy to have your assistance on the matter. I'm sure your magic would be far more useful than my own, at least until I surpass you. Until then however, I would also like to continue to train under you. If that is not inconvient for you of course."</span><br/><br/>Throughout the hours of training, repeatedly resurrecting corpses and constructing skeletons from throwaway bits and pieces of the dead, Verigan kept a watchful eye and was ready to intervene at a moment's notice. Everything seemed to be going quite swimmingly, however, and he showed great approval at the construction of something bony. Amused clapping and other forms of encouragment at its rise, as well as similar guidance throughout, made the lessons quite busy. Time passed, and as the dead returned to their resting places, Verigan aided in the cleanup. The tomb would be left as they'd found it, aside from some damage to the vagabond's body. As each undead was put back to rest, Verigan siphoned every last bit of soul energy from their bodies. By the time he finished, there was nothing left, not even their residual spirits. Never again would the bodies used rise.<br/><br/>Taking the small shards of power into himself, he rolled the hand used to siphon power around a few times, appreciating the small kick of power. It was hardly the rush a lich would obtain from consuming an entire soul, but every little bit helped keep him animate. As Atisha spoke, he turned to focus on her, leaning on his cane. He was just about ready to give parting advice and continue on his own way, until the mention of the assailants came through.<br/><br/>Not only were there others with a like-minded goal, but an entire party of them? This day could have possibly been his greatest fortune in a long while. He barely had to consider the offer. A chance to learn more about the newest blight on the world, as well as oversee Atisha's progress rather than have potentially unleashed an unkept horde of undead, were both quite enticing. "And I would be more than happy to offer it, dear. But, we should keep our lessons a secret. Of course, there is always more to learn, but I don't have to tell you that people<span style="font-style: italic">disagree</span>with this sort of study." His final sentence was emphasized with a disapproving flick of his wrist, as if the people who were against raising undead were somehow in the wrong. Honestly, it was more an annoyance. So what if he raised a few bonewalkers here and there to do housework? They hardly complained about it.<br/><br/>Regardless of petty grievances, he was going to take the offer. "Let's get out of this stuffy old crypt, then. I could use some fresh air." He tapped his cane on the floor one last time, and the floating orbs of hellfire he'd set above the sconces all floated back towards him. Raising the cane, he collected the flames around the tip as a sort of makeshift torch, illuminating their path as they left the barrow.