After a successful meeting with a relatively infamous mage hunter by the name of Zanar in Vilpamolan, Dalanesca found herself traveling to Parvpora. She had to admit - Parvpora was never high on her list of places that she got excited to visit. The deities of Revaliir were scarcely believed in once the borders of Canelux had been crossed. Dalanesca was confident in her abilities both as a mortal and an immortal, but she preferred the advantage that her divine powers granted her. Unfortunately, that was out of the question on this particular day as she had planned to rendezvous with Zanar in Iria, as the pair went in search of a rogue necromancer that Dalanesca was determined to seek out and terminate.

Regardless of the location, Dalanesca was a bit excited to get back to her roots as an assassin. She had been a rather successful one back in the day, and had the necromancer been hiding in Canelux, she would have gladly taken it on alone. With the weakness in her powers, having another skilled hunter would be beneficial, if nothing more than a safeguard. The contact who had referred him to her, so to speak, had spoken rather highly of him and his abilities, so it seemed that she had made the right decision.

When the time had come that the pair had agreed upon meeting, Dalanesca made her way to the open air markets of Iria’s streets. To the people of the city, she appeared as nothing more than a slightly above average looking woman, dressed in fine clothes of black leather with bits of lace added here and there as garnishment. However, when Zanar would arrive, she would appear as she truly did, as her aura would not be masked to him. To the common passerby, she was not armed, but when Zanar arrived he would see that her belt was adorned with numerous different blades, as were several sheaths placed strategically around her clothing.

Dalanesca now stood at a vendor selling different pieces of jewelry, all hand crafted with precious metals and gemstones from across Revaliir. She was holding a particularly intricate bracelet, twisting it over between her fingers. It was crafted out of a metal that had been oxidized to a darker shade, and encrusted with emeralds and rubies. While she had countless pieces of jewelry and could downright have anything she wanted, she was drawn to its beauty. She haggled with the vendor for a few moments before paying several silver pieces for the bracelet and slipping it on her slender wrist.

She turned away from the stall, eyes scanning the area. She had not seen Zanar yet, nor had she heard hide nor tail of the necromancer. A bit more wandering led her to another vendor who was selling some specialty meads. She bought a flagon, of course, sipping on the sweet liquid as she looked around, awaiting her soon-to-be hunting partner.

Parvpora, Zanar would soon rather leave this accursed continent than stay any longer than he had to. Thankfully he was not near the Koschei Islands, but just the memories of went down on this continent just made Zanar not enjoy being on this land. Though, he did have to thank it for extending his time on this star.

He was not here to sightsee this beautiful city though, he had a meeting that he must uphold with lady death herself. He was already running a little late than what was planned, of course, this was due to him seeing if he could find any traces of necromancy being used in the city or any nearby settlements. Sadly he could not pick up any traces. He did hear rumors of the dead being restless, yet none of them seemed to fit the theme of a necromancer's work

Approaching the markets his vision was blinded by a radiance that he was familiar with, and he closed his eyes again the azure hue of his iris’ dimmed as he opened them again.  The aura of the gods was too strong for him still, what did he expect though. The whole city was just a spectrum of different magical energies with the Academy lying close by so he was glad that he had could give his vision a rest for a bit.

He found the goddess walking up to a stall that was selling some meads, he took this time to purchase a few apples from the nearby stall he was at. He thanked the vendor and stored the remaining two in the small bag tied to his belt before heading over to meet the woman. He could tell that she was looking for him so he approached from her blind spot. Anyone who was listening though could hear the slight sounds of the throwing daggers that lined his overcoat. So he knew he would be more than unsuccessful at his little endeavor.

“My apologies for the delay m’lady, tried to do a little investigation of my own into the matter. Came up empty handed in the end.” He played off any signs of her noticing him beforehand. He had glimpsed the bracelet she was wearing and chuckled to himself a little. “Still a lady, in the end, are we? I blame you not, couldn’t help but purchase a few pieces of fruit from a nearby vendor myself.” He figured she hid her true self to the rest of the market crowd. He though could see her assassin side, it would be interesting to fight with the goddess, that is if they ever found this elusive mage.

Dalanesca froze for a split second as she heard the telltale sounds of Zanar’s weapons jangling together quietly beneath his overcoat. She smirked before turning around, knowing full well that the mage hunter was more than likely not making an attempt to sneak up on her - if he was, he doing a downright terrible job of it. She assumed that his indiscretion was more due to the fact that he had no intention of purposefully sneaking up on her, thus deciding against giving him any sort of flack for it.

She turned around at the sound of his voice, giving no indication to whether or not she had heard him as the smirk had faded from her visage. “Hello, Zanar,” she said smoothly, giving him a quick flash of a smile. “I’m glad you’ve taken enough of an interest in the case for you to be investigating on your own,” she added, and it was clear that the goddess meant what she said.

When Zanar made the comment regarding the jewelry she had purchased, she fiddled with the piece around her wrist for a moment, glancing down at the finely crafted bracelet before locking her gaze with Zanar’s again. “What can I say - I’ve an eye for the finer things in life,” she said, giving him a flashy wink.

Dalanesca stepped away from the vending stalls, Zanar falling into step beside her. “Let’s grab a drink,” she said, gesturing towards a tavern that was fortunately located just down the street they were on. “We can discuss a few finer details that way - bit better than standing in the middle of a crowded shopping district,” she added with a chuckle. She made quiet small talk with her soon-to-be hunting companion as they traversed the short distance to their destination.

Once inside the tavern, the pair found a table set slightly off to the side. Dalanesca preferred this, as it was mostly private but still allowed her to position herself in a way that she could see nearly everything taking place in the establishment. After a very short time, a tavernmaid came by and took their order, returning shortly with a flagon of ale and decanter of a dark amber liquid - supposedly some sort of whiskey. Dalanesca wrinkled her nose slightly before pouring a bit into the small cup that had come along with the whiskey, slamming the drink down quickly before pouring another.

“So, you mentioned that you went off investigating on your own, but came up empty handed. No rumors, no anything? Surely you had to have heard at least something in your search,” she said. Her tone was neither angry nor accusatory - she was merely curious if perhaps Zanar had heard something in passing and thought nothing of it until now.

A bit of commotion in the corner of the tavern caused Dalanesca to turn around slightly, shifting so she could see the back corner. The same tavernmaid that had served them was talking to a man in a dirty, tattered and ragged looking cloak. She was rather upset with the man, explaining to him that he would need to order something if he were to take up the table any longer. It seemed after a few minutes of heated words with him she had decided it was no longer worth her breath, and she stormed off. As she passed by the pair again, she could be heard muttering. “Ain’t no poor house, don’t know why that bastard thinks ‘e can jus’ sit without droppin’ coin!”

With raised eyebrows, Dalanesca looked back to Zanar. “Guess we selected a place with… reputable patrons, then?” she asked before laughing sharply and taking another decent gulp of the whiskey in front of her.

“What can I say, can’t have a necromancer running lose now eh? The undead blight doesn’t need to harm the innocent if there are people out there that can prevent it,” He said in response to the goddess’ praise. The air about the woman was different than when they first met. He shrugged it off though as it was not in his place to question what happens with the divine.

“I could always go for a good drink,” he agreed with the goddess as they started to make to the nearby establishment. During the small talk, he scanned the area just to make sure they were not the ones being hunted in the meantime.

Entering the tavern, Dalanesca led them to a table with a good view of the ground floor. It was as if she had read his mind because he would have come to the same spot. It was not in a shady corner location, but off to the side for them both to get a wide and almost complete view of the floor. He requested a flagon of Ale when the tavern maid came to get their order.

“No much of anything. A few mentions of some arisen, but it didn’t seem to fit what a necromancer would do with their power. Souls do not like to always rest after all,” he said pouring the ale he ordered into the mug that came with it. “It is strange that one with such power…is staying in the dark.”

Before he could get any more words out, a commotion broke out back corner of the tavern. The tavern maid that served them, seemed to be angry and a person sitting at the table. He couldn’t make out any features of the cloaked figure only that the cloak was completely worn and tattered from use. Strange.. Zanar thought to himself as the tavern maid stormed away muttering her curses under her breath.

“Apparently we did, Taverns always bring the odd ones out.” The swordsman finally took a drink from the ale, and when his nose picked up a scent that he was all too familiar with. He lowered his mug and looked back and the cloaked figure, and almost felt like it was gazing back at the both of them. The smell was coming from this man, the cold stench of death. He put the mug down and set his gaze on the cloaked figure.

He reached and brought out one of his throwing knives off his coat. Tossing it slightly and catching it by the tip of the blade. “Simple little things these are. They are finely crafted though, usually always finding their mark. Seems like you a fan of smaller blades yourself,” He said playing off his intentions as best as he could. He tossed it up again and muttered something under his breath before catching the blade again. The blade lit up with holy magic, and he swiftly threw the blade at the patron in the corner.
His suspicions were confirmed when a walk of the putrid magic blocked the dagger. Quickly getting to his feet, the chair he was on feel to the floor. “Seems we have stumbled into the spider's web, m’lday death.” His blade was drawn and the crackle of the mana thickening in the air could be heard coming from the blade as its dark energies swirled around it.

The goddess tilted her head to one side as she watched Zanar draw out one of his throwing knives. “Indeed I am,” she said, smirking slightly as she understood what he planned to do with the blade. “They’re rather… versatile, if you ask me,” she said, her voice dropping to a lower volume as she distinctly made out the incantation he seemed to mutter under his breath. She sensed the holy aura of the magic that surrounded his blade, intrigued for a moment. She knew why he would choose such magic - of course it made sense as they were fighting a necromancer. She just took a moment to appreciate the irony that the hunting partner of the goddess of Death was using holy magic, while she would be using something else entirely.

Dalanesca made no visible movement when Zanar threw the blade towards the strange patron in the corner, though she was prepared to strike at any moment. A necromancer would prove a rather difficult target for her, for several reasons: one, they were in Parvpora and her powers were so much less powerful there; two, her normal efforts of causing his flesh to rot from his bones right then and there would most likely be less invasive as that was most certainly the type of magic that fell into his wheelhouse. Their suspicions were indeed confirmed as Zanar’s blade fell to the floor with a dull thud when it hit the wall of magic the necromancer they hunted had cast in front of himself.

“I would venture to say you’re correct,” she said, a sinister smile spreading across her lips. She stood from her seat as well, though her movement was much more fluid than that of Zanar’s. Her chair slid out rather gracefully behind her as she rose to a standing position. She glanced to her partner, seeing that he had readied his blade and that dark energy seemed to be swirling about the weapon. With another smooth movement, the goddess reached behind herself, pulling a long, thin blade from a concealed sheath that had been along her spine under the leather she wore. The blade was a strange color, black - made from reinforced obsidian straight from the depths of Revaliir’s underworld known to some as Inferos. Green veins streaked throughout the weapon - veins of crystallized hellfire that would do nothing but further along the anguish felt by any of her foes.

Across the room, the necromancer had risen from his chair. He had yet to speak a word to the pair, but instead seemed to be looking around at the panic the patrons of the establishment were feeling. The tavernmaid let out a yell as he dropped his hood, and she darted into the back room with another shriek. The necromancer’s face was streaked with black veins, clearly a result of the dark magic he had been using for such a long time. Dalanesca cocked an eyebrow and turned to Zanar. “Flare for the dramatic, don’t you think?” she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear. Even in the throes of battle, Dalanesca’s sharp wit and sarcastic humor remained intact. She now addressed the necromancer. “I suppose you think you’ve got it all figured out then?” she said, sounding a bit annoyed with him. “You figured out how to channel the souls from Inferos back into corpses for your own… congratulations,” she said, clapping her hands together softly around the hilt of her blade.

What happened next was something that Dalanesca had not prepared for. The necromancer, in one swift movement, knelt down and scooped up Zanar’s discarded throwing knife, and sent it zooming towards her with another quick throw. Being in Parvpora, her senses were slightly dampened and she was not able to move out of the way quickly enough - but at least the holy magic had dissipated from the blade. The throwing knife sunk into the center of her chest, and she drew in a sharp breath, her eyes narrowing slightly.

What seemed to be a drafty breeze blew through the building, extinguishing every candle. “First you steal from me. And now, you try to kill me?” She pulled the blade out with a swift movement, tossing it to the floor beside her where it landed with another thud. She ran a hand down the center of her chest, across the wound which a decent amount of blood trickled from. She held up her hand, covered in the thick red substance, and brought it to her lips, her tongue darting out to lap at her finger. Her eyes narrowed further and she dropped her hand to her side, her head shifting to one side again. “So the Reaper bleeds, let it be known,” she said, twisting her head slightly to look at Zanar.

While she had foolishly been flaring for the dramatic of her own, the necromancer had been chanting a sort of incantation under his breath, and suddenly from out of nowhere, a shockwave of sorts went through the establishment, sending both Dalanesca and Zanar falling backwards to the ground - along with all of the other patrons that had not fled the establishment. Unlike Dalanesca and Zanar, who were able to get back up, it seemed that the shockwave had killed nearly every patron in the establishment.

As the pair scrambled back to their feet, Dalanesca let out a soft, yet slightly nervous chuckle. “Fancy showmanship, is it?” she said, dusting herself off and retrieving her blade. Her eyes fell back on the necromancer, and she felt unnerved - he was smiling, his yellowing, decaying teeth making her feel slightly off. “Death wish, is it?” she asked, and the necromancer merely shook his head, still smiling his strange grin. A moment later, the patrons, who had most certainly been dead, began to stir. One, a slender woman dressed as one would expect a commoner to be dressed, awkwardly got back to her feet, twisting around to look at the pair. Her skin seemed sallow, and her eyes were completely black. Dalanesca was so taken aback that he had been able to accomplish such a feet, that her blade clattered to the ground next to her as she dropped it in surprise. It seemed that she was even less powerful in Parvpora than she had thought.

She turned to Zanar. “Any suggestions?” she asked, as more of the patrons began standing up and staring at them with the same dead eyes, seemingly awaiting instruction from the necromancer.

When the hood dropped from the necromancer’s face, it all made sense as to why his blade did not connect. The thin falling out hair, pale skin with sunken features and grotesque yellow teeth all of this plus the bulging black veins that lined his face. This man had let the dark powers that came with necromancy take over his very being and soul, he was no longer sane and no longer able to be reasoned with. “Saddening, all the same, to be lost to that ancient magic,” He responded to the goddess’ remark. Staying still but eyes ever vigilant on the necromancer he let Dalanesca speak. The sound of her slow clap filling the room after she confronted him, she did not fear this being and she had no reason to.

His watchful eyes barely caught wind of what happened, and the Necromancer gave his response to the goddess with the very same dagger that Zanar had thrown. The swordsman had thought that she would be able to dodge it, but no, it landed square in the middle of her chest with a resounding thud. A wound that would sure to be fatal to anyone else, but her divinity was what kept her going. Kind of glad it wasn’t me who said anything he thought thankfully, changing into a more defensive stance as a precaution to any other attack that was thrown out.

The light in the tavern was quickly put out as a breeze fell through the building. His eyes refocused to the darker atmosphere as he watched the goddess pull the blade from her chest, unaware of the necromancer now chanting a spell under his breath at this point. “A dramatic person yourself eh?”

It was then when his eyes finally picked up the increase of mana within the vicinity, he didn’t even get time to react before it was to late. A wave of energy passed through the whole establishment throwing both Dalanesca and himself back. It was cold as ice, and a sharp pain went through him as he landed. He could taste the putridness of the spell as he got back up from the after effects of the spell. He didn’t know if it was because of his more resilient body from training or the ursanthropy curse that flowed through him, but he was the only mortal to have survived that death wave. All the patrons that were once enjoying their time, now laid dead on the ground around them.

“Such dark magic,” He muttered quietly to himself. He was trying to quell the rage inside of him and remain calm. He needed to stay alert with this foe for he could strike either quickly or powerfully in a moments notice. His ears picked up the sound of movement, as the bodies around them started to rise. No longer were they of the living, but thralls of the confront Necromancer. Life completely drained from them and their beady black eyes staring down the two hunters as they awaited the command of their master.

“Either we kill him here or we drive him out of the city, we cannot allow him to get into a more densely populated area. That death wave..just imagine the untold death and chaos it would cause,” He replied looking around, “We fight.”

Zanar quickly sheathed his blade, as energy started to gather around it. He would strike before the bastard managed to get his command off. Swiftly he drew his blade from its rest and a wave of energy cut through the corpse ahead of him, the mana drained from their bodies as they fell lifeless once again. “You made a mistake of not only pissing off the Reaper, but for me as well. I have marked you, you will not escape here until Vox is satiated.” He glared over at the necromancer, the obvious blood lust in the swordsman eyes.

Completely unfazed by the swordsman’s threat, he lifted his hands and let out a ear splitting screech. The undead finally started to react rushing at both the goddess and Zanar. Zanar cut down the ones that approached him with ease, as the crack of his blade cutting through the mana of the corpses resounded through the tavern. He rolled to the side and picked up his discarded dagger, once again channeling holy magic through it, and threw it at the necromancer once again. This time was different for he had also thrown another dagger right behind the first. He just hoped that the dagger could land to do some damage to the Necromancer.

With a swift movement, Dalanesca retrieved the blade she had allowed to clatter to the ground in surprise. She was rather disappointed in herself that she had allowed herself to be taken aback in such a manner, but there was no time for chastising. It had been a very, very long time since she had seen someone with necromancy magic that powerful. She cast a sideways glance at Zanar as he gave her his suggestion on what they should do. Their options were rather limited. If they didn’t end him in that tavern, he would no doubt head deeper into the city, and with a greater population came a greater risk for more casualties. She may have been the goddess of death, but even the Reaper didn’t care for unnecessary death at the hands of an irresponsible necromancer who had let the power get to his head.

“You make a good point,” she said, still glancing at Zanar in her peripheral vision, but keeping the necromancer in her sights - but now, she was having to worry about the reanimated corpses that were beginning to rush toward the pair at an alarming pace. Zanar actually seemed to be more solidly on the offensive than she was, having not been rattled by a loss of power as she was currently feeling. She watched as her companion threw the dagger at the necromancer - and this time, it seemed, he had been successful as the necromancer had been more focused on rallying his troops, so to speak.

The blade connected with the necromancer’s left shoulder, sinking in much in the same manner the one had hit Dalanesca just moments ago. The necromancer let out a bellow of pain before wrenching it out of his shoulder and sending it clattering to the floor. If the damn necromancer hadn’t been so horribly disgusting looking, Dalanesca could have sworn she was watching a mirror image of herself removing the blade from her own chest.

She took the opportunity while the necromancer was distracted by the pain delivered by the mana-laced dagger to dispatch a few of the undead - she may have been less powerful, but she certainly wasn’t powerless. Four shambling bodies moved towards her, and she held up her hand. The floor beneath them began to swirl with dark mist, and it seemed that the bodies had begun to shrink - in all actuality, their feet had disappeared into the floorboards, and they were continuing to descend. Dalanesca was banishing them, it seemed - but it was her own special version of banishment. They were being sent to her realm, into one of the nine circles - a rather easy feat for her to accomplish even in Parvpora.

The necromancer had seemed to regain his composure during Dalanesca’s little banishing foray, and he had begun to rush towards the pair, specifically targeting Dalanesca. It seemed that since he had landed the blade in her chest, he felt as though he would be able to best her yet again. He had drawn a long blade, swirling with dark magic, from a scabbard beneath his tattered robes, holding it high as he moved to strike at her.

Instinct overwhelmed Dalanesca and she crouched slightly, her forearm taking most of the strike from the blade. The steel bit into her arm, and she let out a shriek and fell to her knees as the pain seared through her forearm. She could feel the dark magic coursing through her system as it entered through the wound, but fortunately it wouldn’t be enough to do any permanent damage to her - however, the blade that the necromancer had pulled back and now held high over her in a rather ceremonious stance, ready to strike.

The dagger connected, and the Goddess agree with his assessment, so far it seemed like his judgment was on point. He figured the goddess would be fine on her own seeing as the dead were her thralls, playthings even. He wanted to go after the necromancer immediately but with the necromancers bellow of pain, the undead around them started to advance, as if they had got the signal to do so. The shambling dead, of course, was easy for him to dispatch, even with their more superior numbers, after all his blade could easily severe the mana link between them and their controller.

He felt the an unfamiliar power being used, and thinking that it was the necromancer once again turned to see what it was after slicing off the head of another corpse. Needless to say his concern was not needed as it was just Dalanesca using her magic, one that he had never seen before in his life. She must have been dragging them into her own realm, he would have felt sorry for them but their souls had already left their bodies all that was left was lifeless husks.

It was only a matter of time, but their main opponent had recovered from the light-infused wound. His target was not Zanar but Dalanesca herself, and the swordsman didn’t think anything of it. He figured that she could handle herself against the necromancer as she seemed to be skilled in face to face combat. I did not even dawn upon him that she was weakened some by not being in Canelux, only coming to the terms with this fact when he heard her shriek out in pain from the dark mages advancement.

He again looked over to see Dalanesca on her knees, an obvious wound in her forearm, and the Necromancer standing over her his blade readied in a ceremonial plunge. ”Shit!” using an agility spell he managed to get in front of the goddess in time to stop the attack with the flat of his blade. The dark magic of both blades collided sending out energy waves as sparks flew from the tip of the necromancer’s blade scraped the surface of Zanar’s Vox Noctis. He managed to push the necromancer back, ”Are you alright?” he inquired while his opponent regained his composure.

He didn’t get time to check on the goddess as the Necromancer came at him again, this time the blade seemed more erratic. He was probably getting annoyed that Zanar was getting the one up on him again and again. The sounds of their blades rang out as the colliding forces of the blade started to tear apart the building. Both of them were on the defensive as both blades were dangerous to each other. The dark rotting power of the necromancers crude weapon, and the mana severing power of Zanar’s katana.

Zanar released the handle of his blade with one of his hands and swiped out at the face of the necromancer as they clashed, the mage smart enough to know something was up back away in a blink. A clawed hand was in place of Zanar’s normal one, very rarely did he tap into his ursanthropy powers but this seemed like the best time. ”Oh didn’t expect that now did you? Hard for me to control the beast..but its how I found you out. The smell of death hangs all over you.” Zanar taunted the necromancer still keeping a defensive posture in front of the goddess while she recovered. ”You won’t get into the city, try as all you might, you won’t get past me. I have far more stamina than you mage.”

Zanar’s agility spell saved Dalanesca from taking a blade to the arm, and she was essentially quite grateful for the movement. She would be able to heal the slice in her arm fairly quickly, though it would take much longer than it would were they in Canelux, or even better, her own realm. However, had the necromancer ceremoniously stabbed her the way he had been intending, it would have been much more difficult for her to recover.

”I’ll be fine,” Dalanesca replied, though the massive amount of blood exiting the wound on her forearm spoke otherwise. She was not lying to Zanar - she would be fine. It was more of an annoyance than anything. ”Thanks for your concern, and your help,” she said, hastily regaining her footing, a rush of worry coursing through her as she saw the Necromancer rushing towards Zanar. She was still a bit wobbly from taking the blow, and for a split second she had thought she was hallucinating as she saw a bear’s claw in place where his human hand would have been.

With a small burst of power, Dalanesca sent the Necromancer’s blade flying across the room, which he quickly scrambled to recover. This bought her enough time to speak with him briefly. ”You’re a fucking bear?” she asked, a surprised smirk on her face. ”Should have known why I got a strange sense the first time we met.” She let out a chuckle, as she had a close relationship with another werebear - Bryar Oakenfell Rose, who had wed one of Angela’s nieces. ”Never met a werebear I didn’t like, I suppose, and that record still stands, for now at least.”

She dropped the sarcastic humor and a serious look came across her face. ”Look, he’s much stronger than I imagined - you’re able to meet him, but I don’t think we can overtake him - not here. We need to get out of here before one of us slips up and something worse happens,” she said. ”There’s only one thing I can think of,” she said, and she reached up to pull at a thin chain that was around her neck, a dark black crystal attached to it. Quickly, she removed it from herself and dropped it over Zanar’s head. ”Touch this, speak my name, and it will transport us to Luxuria Mortiferum. You’re going to have to make physical contact for it to work,” she said. ”It is gravely important that you are touching me when you do so, or I will be left here. I’m going to trap him, Zanar, and it’s not going to last long, but it’s probably going to take everything I’ve got, and will most likely render me unconscious.”

When it was clear that Zanar understood what was going to happen, Dalanesca turned to face the Necromancer, who had regained his weapon. He was much closer to them, and it seemed he was preparing to cast a powerful spell. Dalanesca began to chant, in a language unknown to any but she. The building began to shake, and for the first time, the Necromancer looked worried. Dalanesca’s knees began to buckle. She dropped to them, still chanting, though her voice was becoming weaker. The Necromancer moved to lunge at them with his blade, but he was stopped as though some unseeable force were blocking him. Dalanesca looked to Zanar, nodding at him that it was about to be time.

With one final phrase of the unknown language, a burst of power shot forth from Dalanesca. The Necromancer disappeared, seemingly banished to somewhere different all together, and the goddess collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

He was thankful for the magical burst that sent the Necromancer’s blade flying. He was starting to get exhausted and the magical feedback of using so much magic in a short time was starting to tear at his own body. ”I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Don’t like using it much, can’t quite get the hang of controlling its temperament yet.” He responded to the goddess’ remark He kept his eyes on the necromancer who was still scrambling for his blade while slowly stepping back to Dalanesca.

Zanar listened as Dalanesca spoke her concern about the enemy. He wasn’t going to disagree with her, he had never met a Necromancer with such strength like this, it was as if he was on the border of lich-like magical prowess. ”I agree with you, I am can’t use any more magic myself due to an old injury I have. The ursanthropy has helped with healing it, but I have used more than I can muster now though. He looked down at the crystal holding it up by the chain of the necklace as Dalanesca explained the rest of the plan.

”Don’t worry, You won’t get left behind.”

He quickly moved out from in front of her, allowing her to get a clear line of sight on the necromancer as she started to chant her spell. The language that she was using was something that he had never heard before, he couldn’t even make out a single word that she was saying, but whatever spell that it was he could tell that it was powerful. The aether in the air started to swell around them all as she continued the incantation which started to shake the building's foundations. There was also the fact that some of the undead thralls were still about, which Zanar went to take care of lest the interrupt her spell.

It was a simple clean up, as their undead forms barely gave them the dexterity to stand while the ground beneath them shook. He heard the Necromancer cry out and turned to see it freeze, in some sort of stasis before the goddess turned to him. It was the sign that he needed, it was time for them to leave. He had to block the shockwave from the spells finishing with his blade but managed to keep his bearing before running over and kneeling down beside the unconscious goddess. The building started to crumble and fall upon them as he grasped onto the black crystal with on hand and the other he placed on the goddess shoulder.

”Dalanesca”

He closed his eyes as the magic burst from the dark crystal absorbing the both of them in its clutches, and as the roof finally came crashing down they both vanished. People exited their houses and those on nearby streets came to see what the commotion was, all traces of the fight were buried with the building.

Opening his eyes Zanar came to the sight of a large octagonal garden. The swordsman guessed that this was the garden of Dalanesca’s temple. Behind him, he heard the gush of a fountain, and turned to look at the crimson liquid that pours from the top. ”interesting decor.” He thought and picked up the goddess in his arms walking over to one of the benches that lined the fountain and placed her upon it. ”Sadly I do not know your temple very well, but I’m sure your followers will find you here. Our job isn’t done, but I am sure you will find me again once that bastard shows up. Until then… He said and then turned to take his leave, he would find his own way out. That is what he hopes for that is.