An Unlikely Alliance - Chapter 1 : Evil Is Bonded In Chains

Five bony fingers flowed slowly through a large bush of black hair. The large golden signet ring on the middle finger glittered in the low light that shone through a small crack in the boarded up windows.

Neferiatu had been looking for the scroll for so long that he was beginning to lose his mind. At least, it felt like it to the old necromancer. The candle in the corner of his study had died out many hours ago and without realising it, the man's night vision had slowly taken over.

'I have had enough of searching for that infernal piece of parchment!' he mumbled irritated as he threw yet another fruitless stack of paper on the large pile that was accumulating in the corner.

'I'll get one of my minions to clean this mess up,' said the necromancer as he made a soft snapping sound with his fingers.

The large wooden door that sealed the entrance to the room slowly opened. As the hinges of the door moaned with tension a small gust of wind swept the layer of dust that had formed on the doorstep in to the room. The faint morning light that swept past the thing that opened the door outlined the features of what looked like a man.

With a light cough Neferiatu signalled to the figure that stood silently in the doorway, 'get over here and close that door behind you.'

The figure quietly closed the door behind him and shambled clumsily towards Neferiatu. It knocked over a small bundle of paper that Neferiatu hadn't looked through yet.

'Ah, you must be one of the fresh ones,' the necromancer commentated as the figure stopped next to him, 'you should get your locomotion under control in a few days.'

Seeing how the figure's eyes had not yet had the time to accustom to the almost complete darkness of the room, Neferiatu walked towards his desk to get a fresh candle.

'This is costing me a fortune in candles,' he said to the figure as he lit a match to light the candle, 'I tend to expunge all light, it helps me concentrate better.'

Tilting the burning candle, he dripped a few drops of candle wax on the wax-encrusted skull he used as a candlestick. With a fluid motion Neferiatu turned the candle upright again and pressed it into the soft drops of candle wax.

'It's becoming more and more difficult to get complete specimens these days,' he murmured, as he looked at the figure in the flickering amber light of the candle.

One observation about the figure would have been correct; it had once been a man. Any sign of intelligence was a lie. Partially because of the fact that a large tear in the hairless scalp of the man showed that the skull has been smashed just above the right ear.

Through the hole in its skull, it was clearly visible that the brain had been taken out, or eaten. The rest of the living corpse's body was roughly intact, except for a missing left lower arm. It looked like it was torn of at the joint.

'Oh well, why do I even try to have a conversation with the dead anyway?' Neferiatu thought to himself.

'Just clean this room,' he slowly spoke to the undead man, 'after you finish you can leave.'

Having had enough of the decaying figure he left the room. As he opened the door, his eyes met the first concentrated light they had seen in days. Putting a hand in front of his face to block the sunlight, Neferiatu made his way down the stone steps to his study and walked towards his courtyard. The sound of his shoes tapping on the marble floor echoed through the main hall of his mansion.

'Why do I always have such a dreadful timing?' Neferiatu asked himself as he took a quick glance out one of the many ornate windows that filled the walls of the large hall.

Outside the sun was shining and there were even some birds singing on a tree branch in his mansion's courtyard. Even though he had lived there for a few years now, none of the surrounding villages knew of the danger that lurked within the four stonewalls that surrounded Neferiatu's house.

Many of his old friends said that it was pure suicide to take up residence in the middle of a region known for its hate of the black arts. It was just this hate that had kept the villagers from finding out Neferiatu's true motives of living there.

To the villagers he was just another local, not a necromancer alive would be stupid enough to live in the lion's den. But still, just to be sure, Neferiatu had told the locals that his name was Joseph Utarefson.

According to his story he was an adventurer who had seen enough action and felt like living the easy life for the remaining days of his life. Little did the locals know that those remaining days might end up being an eternity.

'I can't uncover the secrets of eternal life if I don't find that blasted scroll!' he thought to himself as he banged his fist against the window post in anger, 'it must still be out there somewhere!'

Hastily he made his way towards the stairs that led to the cellar. Or more precisely, the dungeon.

Neferiatu had mastered the art of raising and commanding zombies a long time ago. It was one of the first things he had ever learned about necromancy. It proved to come in handy lately, as a lot of manual labour had to be done in order to make the mansion a fitting place of residence for a soon to be immortal necromancer. Or so Neferiatu hoped.

He used corpses he had risen from the nearby cemetery to dig out a larger cellar and turn it in to a dungeon.

The few people that were nosey enough to investigate what Neferiatu was up to had met a grizzly end within the stonewalls of the dungeon. The skeletons of the intruders had been raised and pressed in to service to speed up the construction of Neferiatu's dungeon.

'Finally, some good news,' Neferiatu said as he overlooked the labouring undead in the room, 'they have almost finished it.'

He walked back up steps towards the main hall. As his feet touched the marble floor a sound was heard. Something that sounded an awful lot like a fist banging on a door.

Neferiatu walked over to the large wooden door that formed the main entrance into his residence. He slowly opened it, having a lot of trouble with the wooden door because age and lack of training had made him physically weak.

Outside of the door stood a man with a sword in his hand. Behind the man stood two fully armoured knights on foot. As Neferiatu looked at the man he reached into a pouch that hung from his belt and revealed a piece of parchment. The man held it up and spoke aloud.

'Joseph Utarefson, you have been found guilty of witchcraft! You are to be detained until your case can be reviewed by the local judge.'

The two knights grabbed Neferiatu by the arms and before the necromancer could defend himself he was dragged off out the gates of his estate.