Ryail Morrigan smiled widely at the man.

he had been walking down the road for hours, truth be told he was enjoying the quite of the day even if he found the costume he wore rather foolish a sword he though again to himself I barely know how to use the thing, ah well don't do to dwell on it now I suppose, this is my life now. the thought didn't excite him but he had learned a lot from his brothers failures and appearances were everything. his reminiscence cut off as he rounded a bend in the road and saw the man, it was a well traveled road but a small copse of trees had hidden the man and his cart from view until Ryail had rounded the bend.
it took Ryail no more then a second to take stock of the scene and decide how to proceed, the cart had broken a wheel. the man miraculously had a spare, an odd thing really the man didn't look as though he could afford the spare, but couldn't change it on his own. he was old silver haired and bearded and a crooked walking stick leaned against the cart as the man levered away to no avail.
"pardon me sir" Ryail called out the smile still firmly fixed to his face "but can I be of any assistance?"
the old man sagged against the ground panting, his eyes meeting Ryails gratefully "as it stands" he crocked in a wispy voice weakened with age and the strain of trying to change the wheel "I could use a hand"

an hour later Ryail Morrigan sat next to the old man on his cart listening to him prattle on and on about menial nonsense and fighting the urge to rub his temples where a headache had started. all the while he kept smiling, nodding and making prompts for the old man to continue. Ryail thought once again very seriously about murdering this doddering old fool here and now, but there would be no benefit to such an action and indeed this small act of kindness may pay dividends if this old fool could find him work while he continued his research.

Ryail relaxed a little more into his role, everything he wanted would come in time and he had taken the first steps to getting it.

sitting in the cart with the old man Ryail's eyes came to rest on the old mans walking stick the head of which was a poorly carved animal head of some kind. Ryail inwardly sneered at the work while out load complementing it to the old man, turns out it was a dog head carved be the mans grandson.
Ryail's mind began to wonder back to his child hood and learning to carve from his father. he never really understood why they crafted their own caskets at his family funeral home "father why do we make these ourselves? wouldn't it be easier to buy them from the carpenter all carved and ready?"  father looked at the boy "we are both lucky and cursed son" he said as he put the finishing touches on an inlaid flower he was relief carving into the name plaque for the old woman who had just died "the death rate in our area is lower then average so we have time to do the work ourselves, it saves money and gives the families of the dead the feeling that we care about them. and so we can charge more"
Ryail smiled as he remembered carving, he enjoyed it though wood was not his favorite medium to work with. he remembered the first time he took the knife to dead flesh and bone, he did not remember the mans face but the piece was beautiful when it was finished a flower to rival any his father had made. and no one had seen it once the funeral clothes had been put back on a shame to be sure but he remembered.

the cart his a pot hole and jolted him back to the old mans words, he gave a mental sigh. he had none of the tools of his former trade anymore. some day soon he told himself and this time the smile he gave the old man was real.

Ryail had now been in the old mans company for a little over a day, he was dozing quietly as he listened to the constant buzz of the old geezers voice. after another jarring jolt from the road he opened his eyes and looked ahead and caught his first glimpse of it Wyllmochvar. it was huge. far larger then his own home town left so far behind.

his eyes started to widen with shock and he reflexively restrained the movement then thinking that wide eyed amazement was probably what the old man expected out of a young man seeing the city for the first time he went ahead and let his awe show. "haha sure is something isn't she?" the old man, Jet was his name, asked looking at Ryail with a gap toothed snicker. "it sure is sir" Ryail said only allowing the raw excitement he felt to show on his face. it was getting easier to keep his face passive and to show excitement now after so much practice with Jet. this just reinforces what I already had decided he thought to himself  if I had simply killed this fool I never would have had the opportunity to hone this skill, and besides this old fool really is no danger to anyone I'd feel guilty if I had killed him knowing he did nothing to earn the fate.

it was strange to think in that way but it was true, he saw no point in killing this man annoying though he was. "I have never seen anything so large and magnificent as this" the words passed his lips easily and hearing them the old man chuckled again "wait tell we get inside I have family in Wyllmochvar and I'm sure they will be happy to house you tonight while you get your bearings" Ryail looked at the old man and nodded this is going to work out just fine.

a night and day later he decided it was time to see the city bidding the old man farewell for now he stepped out into the night. after a few streets he ducked into an ally and wrapped the night around himself like a clock, the shadows would hide his presence while he saw what this city had to show him.

it was perfect.

he leaned against an old tree as he looked at the abandoned homestead to the west of the mountains near Wyllmochvar. it was old and well constructed buildings of stone were set into the mountains foothills with thatched roofs, now in shambles, the vegetation growing over the stones allowing for modest concealment.

Ryail had wondered how someone could have built this cottage, root cellar and even small stable out of stone of all things dug them into this hill and then simply abandoned it. 

so he began to ask around, quietly not revealing his reasons, to find the answers. part of the reason was simple enough, the stones oddly sized and shaped matched the city walls perfectly. the builder had taken the cast off bits from the construction of the walls and painstakingly pieced them together to build his home. but then why leave it? the homestead had been abandoned so long that no one he asked could remember anyone living out that way or indeed any reason to go there. and that in itself answered the question. these homesteads relied almost exclusively on the irrigation canals fed by melting alpine snow from the mountains to help sustain themselves, their animals, and their crops. 
whoever had built this small collection of hidden buildings with the probable intent of remaining away from the expanding communities around those canals had succeeded. his home was well away from any prying eyes, and as a consequence insolated from the life giving water that sustained the people in those communities. and like any living thing deprived of an abundance of resources the farm had shriveled and eventually was left to rot.

all of the things that made this place impractical for farming however, made it perfect for Ryail Morrigan. 

the cottage was a modest building large enough to house a small family, now just himself and a few companions. the roof had collapsed where it was thatched but the part that was under the hill still seemed intact but it may need reinforcement Ryail wouldn't know until he had the resources to animate a skeletal craftsmen to do the reconstruction work.
the stable was pretty much the same but it was larger then a farm this size would require, the builder must have left room for expansion Ryail thought to himself as he picked his way though the clutter or fallen thatch, rotten dedicated manure, and miscellaneous junk.

he kicked away the fallen door to a stall and at the disturbance a small nest of rats began to swarm about. Ryail flexed his will and the shadowy tendrils of his power reached forth and snared the rats to begin choking the life from there small bodies. it did not take much power, they were worthless weak creatures. but they may yet find usefulness in there deaths, he would animate them and send them about and around his new home. they would be near worthless combatants true but they could come and warn him should anyone be approaching who should not be. he lift the bodies where they lay for now Ryail would return after he had finished exploring is new home to work his art on them.

the root cellar was the last building he had to explore and it was the most intact. it had been cut deep into the foothills and although it consisted of only one room at present Ryail thought that he may be able to expand upon it in the future. but the place was cool, dry and perfect for storing bodies better so then the cold room his family had used. the air was stagnate and smelled of rotted vegetation from the abandoned produce long decayed now but it would do for now.

Ryail Morrigan smiled widely as he thought again how perfect for his purposes this place was going to be. setting his bag down he headed back up to the stables to begin work on his sentry rats. there was a lot of work to do but he was excited to begin.

Ryail entered the root cellar.

He had been gone a while and the spiders had already started to reclaim the space as their own. At least it didint smell like rot any longer. He had accomplished that much.

He sat down at the makeshift table he had managed to put together, he was a fair hand at this sort of thing but there was only so much he could do without the proper tools.

Opening his backpack on the table he sent a trickle of his will into the bag and said "come on out now, we are home such as it is"
One by one four rat skeletons walked from the bag and lined up in front of their master. This was indeed their home and tomb for it had been here Ryail had both killed them and brought them back in a more usefully capacity.

The rats bones were to small for carving so Ryail handset tried instead he had simply stained the rats bones a mottled brownish shade with dyes he had gathered crudely from locale plants. They looked horrible to his artistic side but he had to admit that they blended in to the background rather nicely when they Sat still.

With another trickle of will and a few words he sent them outside to watch for any person's approach. They could do little more then scurry down here and chatter at him should they actually see someone but that was alright. He looked down at the corpse he had dragged home with him. And smiled.

The body was that of a bandit thug who had with a few friends attempted to stop a small train of wagons a few miles up the road. Ryail had been watching from the shadows he had , as he so often did, wrapped about himself. 

He was on his way home and this trail took him a good ways toward it when he had moved aside for the wagons, they could no see him clearly after all and it would never due to be hit.

Not to much further along from where they had passed him the bandits had jumped out. There must have been a sting planned tho because no sooner had the thugs appeared then the wagons tailored with armed men who stormed down onto the would be robbers.

Most of them went down easily all but for this man he was obviously a rogue of some talent because he had struck down menu of his attackers before he was finally bright down.

The thugs had simply been pushed aside of the road and the wagons continued on their way.

Well Ryail Morrigan knew talent when he saw it and this fellow would make an interesting companion. Not just a weak skeleton like his rats no he would be as cunning and in relevant as he had been in life.

But the praises would be difficult and time consuming and require much of his strength to preform properly, so he was glad it had taken place so close to his home.

Crouching next  to the body he began to flood the corpse with his power. He sat that way for hours letting the power inside him roll over the rogue.

As time passed the flesh appeared as though it were being sucked dry of all its moisture. The skin stretching tight across the bones shoulder length hair oily hair and the full beard remained, the roots stuck fast in the collapsing pores but looked odd. The clothes a little tight before now hung baggy from the waisted frame.

At last it was done Ryail flopped back utterly spent as the skeletal form bargain to stir, creaking bones loosening as the rogue stood up. And then he knelt before the winded neceomancer.

"Master" it said the voice that of centuries old parchment pages being turned by a clumsy hand.

Ryail looked at his creating and smiled the smile of an artist who knows he has created a masterpiece and standing offered his hand to his creating "there is no need for that" he said helping the other to his feet. "Please what is your name?"

Taking the offered hand the skeletal form rose "Conner my Lord" he said in that Dusty voice of ages. "And do you have another name Conner?" The rogue shook his head "no sir I have no other names I'm afraid" he said it tentatively as if scared this news would be taken badly but Ryail only smiled again.

"Then you shall take my name from now on your name is Conner Morrigan, now come I'm weiry and we have much to discuss"

It hadn't taken long for Ryail and Conner to become acquainted. They were of different backgrounds and lifestyles but that hardly mattered. The spell and the amount of power Ryail had used to reanimate the highway men's body had created his loyalty right along with his unlife.

Ryail did not know if the animating force that powered this rogue would end if he himself was killed but it didint matter that much to him, his world ended when he did.

They had spent some hours cleaning the homestead but until Ryail was able to reanimate a craftsmen to fix the place properly and a servant to keep it clean there was only so much they could do.

Then they practiced. It was Conner's suggestion to use the hand signs to communicate, the mage had never thought of them before but now that they were presented to him it only made sense.

They drilled together for some time learning each others and outs of fighting and the best way to utilize each of their skills.

Ryail resided that they should travel together for a time and perhaps then the rogue could be sent off alone for solo missions, only time would tell.