Bozkurt Magmajaw sat comfortably in a large sofa with a wine glass in his hand. “Yes t’was a shame abot that boy.” He said as he swirled the wine in his glass around a little. He felt bad about having killed the young man, he had held promise.

A growl ahead of him caused him to look up to see Amset growling at him. The Black furred Jackal man had a small piece missing from his left ear and had a row of rings running down the right ear’s edge. “I still think you should have rrrecruited him. You know as well as I do that Dökk Alfarrr have become rrratherrr rrrrarrre as of late.” He said, his particular vocal cords making each R he tried to say come almost out as a growl.

Next to the Anubian sat a sleek black furred feline. Her lithe body dressed in something that seemed to have its place in both polite society and out adventuring. “Mmmh yes. That young man had potential, he seemed not used to cities or towns but carried himself as an experienced fighter.” She almost purred as she pulled the wine glass to her lips.

“I no’ wha ye mean.” Bozkurt said sighing a little. “But th’ kid spoke some strange tongues.” He answered and looked from Amset to Nebit with a sad look to his eyes.

“That boy would have been useful forrr the trrrip we arrre planning.” Amset said as he moved a little on the sofa he sat on. The leather straps on his cuirass creaking a little, the white cloth around his shoulders and the white skirt-like garment around his legs giving him almost a warrior noble appeal.

Nebit placed her delicate hand upon Amset’s shoulder and seemed to let out a soft meow which calmed the Anubian a little. “I know Amset. Though he might have been useful when seeking the sand dune tombs we can’t cry over spilt milk.” She said gently though she did give Bozkurt a pointed glare. “We will require some mercenaries now to fill in the empty slots. After that disaster two days ago and the loss of a potential recruit today.” She paused and let out a low and clearly annoyed exhale.

“It seems the gods aren’t all that happy with us these days.” She then muttered shaking her head a little. “Whatever the case we will have to go to Desma once we’ve passed Veta and are in the great desert again.”

Amset seemed rather angry at this as he bared his fangs. “Ah fuck.” He almost spat as small cracks began to form in his glass. “I think we should rrratherrr go to Dehsa instead. Much betterrr calibrrre of merrrcenarrries therrre than in Desma.” He grumbled as he put the glass away and crossed his arms. He almost seemed like a pouting teenager the way he tried to scratch his right lower lip with his own teeth.

Nebit only chuckled at the sight while Bozkurt had a slightly harder time finding Amset’s actions as comical. “Yes, we lost quite a bit’o money from dat caravan massacre.” Bozkurt said in a reconciling manner.

He had indeed lost quite a bit of money from the caravan massacre. Not only that but now the damn Barwell house was snooping around that road and enforcing stricter rules on the roads to Veta. It was costing him more in tariffs and even more so if his smuggling teams were caught.

“Yes, we certainly seem to be haemorrhaging money from such a simple event.” Nubit suddenly said after a while of silence. “But shouldn’t we use this to our advantage? I mean our aim is to get ties to the nobility here in Alocia after all? Why not find a… scapegoat?” She said with a smile.

The predatory nature of that smile made Bozkurt a little nervous. “Wha’t ye mean?” He asked warily. He was certain he wouldn’t be betrayed by the Desert Jackals guild, after all, they were rather intertwined when it came to their finances.

It was him that had given them their starting funds on the promise they’d find his wife and daughters killer after all.

“What I mean is that we should find some bandit or even a monster.” Nubit began before taking a pause to finish what little remained of her wine glass. As she began again she took Amset’s glass and poured the rest of his whine into her own glass. “We send out one of our lower teams to scout the area where the massacre happened. We’ll include a great tracker to help out with the search. Their job will be to find or fabricate a good enough threat to get Barwell off our backs.”

Amset and Bozkurt gave her their undivided attention. The music in the room was just loud enough so that they could hold a calm conversation. Bozkurt had invited a few trusted “competitors” and investors for a little soiree at his house. The people were either dancing or simply sitting at other sofa’s having conversations like the three where having now, only they were a bit away to increase their privacy.

Nubit seemed to relish the attention she was getting. “Given the evidence that already has been gathered about the incident, we could get a witch. We then simply find some bandits or the like have her curse them with savage lycanthropy and voila we have our villains.” She said with such a gentle smile that one would think she was talking to her own child, if not for the predatory glint in her eyes.

“Then we might even employ the same tactic against some of your and our competitors.” She then added and the glint was made clear to Bozkurt.

Amset smiled a toothy grin with his fanged maw, leaning back and chuckling slightly. “Maybe next we’ll go afterrr that darrrrned Theodorrre. He’s been aggrrressively going afterrr some of ourrr trrrade rrroutes. Why not play by his book? An eye forrr an eye.”

As he spoke his smile seemed to grow until it seemed more like a snarl than any type of smile Bozkurt had seen.

“I say we do it.” Bozkurt said with a smile of his own. He took down a piece of paper and a quill which he wrote down a few targets which would cripple that man’s so-called mercantile empire. Sliding the paper over he stopped and listened carefully, he could have sworn he heard something from the floor below.

He looked down as if to try and see through the floor. Did Dante fall over or something? He was the only one still in the house safe for those on the third floor at least. “Per’haps we should call i’t a night?” He said then as he watched Nubit take the piece of paper and fold it down into the collar of her outfit.

“Indeed.” Nubit said as she stood gracefully and made her way towards the middle of the room with the two men.

Once there Bozkurt bid the guests good night and then they all took out a stone which returned them to their respective residences. Some around the city and others even from farther afield. When all but Nubit and Amset had left, the felineid looked over to Bozkurt and smiled. Though it seemed to be a sad smile. “I hope to see you once more.” She said as she bowed and then disappeared.

Bozkurt looked at Amset with a raised bushy eyebrow only to begin to hear a commotion outside the door. Now that the band had stopped playing and had gone away he could hear it better. Grunts, crashes and even what sounded like inhuman shrieks came from outside the door.

Amset looked from Bozkurt and to the door. Whatever was coming even had the sturdy warrior on edge. As Bozkurt turned to run for his crossbow the door splintered open and Dante came flying into the room. Only a weak sound came from his broken and slashed body, his wounds heavy and bleeding profusely over the carpeted floor. He was even missing an eye with raw claw wounds running down the side of his face.

What held the other two men’s attention, however, was the creature standing or rather squatting on top of Dante’s chest. It looked so alien, the way its glistening shell seemed to go from seeming to be wreathed in a gentle blue fire to suddenly letting off smoky darkness. The end of its hands were sharp bloody claws and as it raised its hand to deliver the final strike to the broken Dante, Amset acted.

With an almost blurring speed, he dashed over and delivered a hard kick to the creature’s chest sending it flying back into the door frame. Once there it snapped off a piece of the frame as it tumbled to the stairs. It turned and let out a growl which froze Amset and Bozkurt in their place.

Then something happened the creature stood and stared at Amset as if he was something it had never seen before. “Anubis?” It then asked in a rather raw voice.

Amset was baffled but he looked over his shoulder and tossed Bozkurt a small flask of green liquid with purple flecks swirling inside it. “Give this to your man, I can give you a few minutes to get ready to face that thing.” He said with almost worry in his voice before he darted out of the room to tackle the creature down the staircase.

Bozkurt knew that Amset wasn’t fighting at peak performance, for one he needed a sword to bring out his strength properly. He was a swordsman closing in on swordmaster after all. Shaking his head Bozkurt forced the liquid down Dante’s throat. “Come on lad!” He worriedly called before gently placing Dante’s head down once more before he ran towards a case on the wall opposite the door into the floor. Inside was a ring and a pendant.

The ring looked fashionable, solid silver with black runes running down its sides both inside and outside the ring. The amulet was hung on a silver chain with streaks of muted iron colour running through the links. The amulet itself was in the shape of a shield with a stylized bust of a suit of armour.

Grabbing both items he hurried to get back to Dante. “Get up, get up.” He almost cried as he saw Dante come to. The man had certainly had his bell rung harshly.

Dante was rather woozy as he got up but he accepted the amulet and slowly put it on as he got up. “Boss, that thing ain’t natural. I swear I’ve hit it enough to knock someone out and even threw it over the edge of the stairs once or twice.” He let out a woozy exhale, clearly disoriented by his fight and following recovery from the potion.

From the ring, Bozkurt pulled a large crossbow, a kurmiz, the dwarven love-child of a ballista and a crossbow. It was held in a manner that had the long barrel of the crossbow had a handle at the top which was held onto while the other hand held onto a lever that would fire the weapon. It was held against one’s hip with a small pad that was placed against the abdomen to help with the recoil of powerful bowstrings.

Another small handle was on both sides of the weapon which were drawn back to help with drawing the bowstring back. On either end of the bows were a pulley system, much like a bow cam that strained the tough metallic arms of the bow to hold even more strength in them.

This powerful weapon would fire meter long and ten centimetre thick arrows. The larger mounted versions could fire ammo almost four times larger and that ammunition was almost entirely metallic.

“Ar ye ready?” Bozkurt asked as he looked over to Dante who pressed his palm to the amulet and metallic plates began to crawl over his body. A gift from an artificer that Bozkurt knew, portable armour he had called it.

It was a darkened metal with the same flowing pattern as Damascus steel had as this was made of mithril and deep steel. The armour itself seemed rather reminiscent of something crude and pointy with angled plates seemingly making up the armour. With its sinister look and angled helm with only a single slit to see through and the heavy spiked gauntlets that almost increased the size of Dante’s hands by half ending in claw-like tips at each finger gave it a rather sinister look. The reason Dante or Bozkurt didn’t wish to use that armour often.

They got ready and Bozkurt aimed at the doorway, from which they heard growls, the smashing of furniture, walls and even the clashing of blades. Bozkurt had to wonder where Amset had gotten a sword from but when the Jackal man came running into the room holding what looked like a broken cheap iron sword and panting heavily Bozkurt knew the man would leave soon.

“That thing is tough.” He said panting as he looked over his shoulder and saw the thing come up the side of the staircase. With a lightning-quick motion, Amset threw the hilt and managed to hit the creatures head, causing it to lose its balance and fall down.

There wasn’t a crash but rather an indignant and furious howl that came instead. “I don’t know what that is but I wish you well Bozkurrt. I’m of little help as I am.”

Bozkurt could see that Amset was wounded and battered, clearly, the sword hadn’t been of much help to him against the creature. Must have been a faulty sword. With an encouraging nod, Bozkurt gave Amset the salute of the dwarven military. A bow with a fist against his heart.

“If you don’t surrrvive… I promise to avenge you.” Amset’s last words came with sympathy as his stone took him away. His once pristine outfit now looking like he had spent the day in a warzone.

Then as the silhouette of Amset disappeared Bozkurt saw it. The creature leapt up from the side of the staircase. In its hands a scythe made of bones which it twirled to hold it like a staff behind it’s back, The blade scraping against the floor as it slowly advanced.

“I don’t know how you got Anubis on your side but I’ve had enough.” It growled as it rolled the scythe around it and got into a running position.

Right as the creature was about to dart forwards Bozkurt fired the kurmiz. The projectile vomited forth from the large crossbow, a shining large arrow that had electricity wreathed around it and left a light trail behind it as it shot towards the creature. Then it seemed to go through nothing.

The creature was standing four steps to the left of where it had been before he had fired. “Wha… How!?” Bozkurt cried only to get a dim chuckling from the creature as it advanced towards him.

“You killed the wrong elf.” It growled as it rushed towards him, flipping the scythe around above its head as it brought it down onto Dante’s fists. The man had moved in front of Bozkurt to defend him. A click of its tongue came as it flipped the scythe over and to Bozkurt's eyes, it was like time had slowed down to an almost crawl as he frantically reloaded his kurmiz.

The bones began to rearrange themselves, the blade slipping back into the spinal column-shaped staff. Almost like liquid more bones began to emerge point first on the side that was heading upwards under Dante’s hands.

A resounding clang resonated out as the bones shattered as they smashed into Dante’s armoured chin. The ringing so loud that Bozkurt wasn’t surprised as the big man staggered back.

Right as Bozkurt managed to put the new arrow into the middle grove to reload the kurmiz he felt an impact to his forehead. The creature had simply kept the rest of the scythe as a staff and had thrown it like a spear. It hadn’t hit him properly though more the trailing end of the staff had managed to go low enough to hit his face.

Staggering back he saw he had missed a swipe from the creature's claws by a hair’s breadth, it actually ripped out a few of his beard hairs.

Before the creature had the time to bring it’s other hand up to stab down into Bozkurt’s chest, a mass of metal bulled it over in a full-body tackle. Dante gripped the creature by the waist and heaved it up off the ground and like a shot-putter he turned a full circle and let the creature go. It left visible trails along the armour Dante wore with it's claws but it sailed almost like a rag doll into the air and smashed into a bookcase at the other end of the room.

Breaking the bookcase apart. It then fell down behind a sofa and didn’t seem to move from that spot.

Dante took up a guard position next to Bozkurt as he finished reloading and took aim. “That damnable cannon isn’t going to save your life!” The creature shouted from behind the sofa. “All it’s doing is pissing me off even more! Put it down and I won’t raise your corpse when I’m done with you.” It roared as it sent the sofa flying across the room towards the duo.

“What are you!” Dante shouted as he moved in front of Bozkurt and gripped the sofa with his hands. Right as he seemed to be about to throw it away he smashed it down in front of him. Bozkurt saw that the creature had suddenly appeared behind Dante and had it’s claw’s bared towards the dwarf. Right as those claws were about to carve Bozkurt open he fired.

Only he fired at empty air or rather at Dante’s back sending the big man not only stumbling forwards but he actually half ran in his stumble before he fell face first.

Before Bozkurt could make sense of what had happened he felt a sharp pain on his side. “I warned you.” The creature snarled next to him, its left arm had its claws embedded in his side only for it to grip the flesh and rip a chunk out of Bozkurts side.

He screamed in pain as he stumbled from the creature. It simply stared at its bloodstained hand with the chunk held tightly within. Then Bozkurt managed to reload impossibly fast, most likely due to adrenaline and utter fear. Turning with desperation to fire at the creature he was greeted with a wet impact to his face, the creature had thrown the chunk it ripped out of him at his face! Then another rack of claws left his face scarred and almost missing an eye.

“NO!” The big man roared as he came in and managed an uppercut into the creature's gut, sending it spinning up into the ceiling only to bounce off it and then once more off the floor. Dante didn’t let the creature recover, he pursued it viciously. His spiked gauntlets managing to break open it’s strange chitin or crack it with the strength of his fists impacts.

He roared as he continued to pound and pound at the creature as it took steps back or flew back from a hard enough hit.

Before Dante could continue chasing it after he had managed to send it flying back from a swing of both his hands held together in a fist, it appeared in front of him. It let out such an unnatural growl as it jammed its thumbs into the slit in Dante’s helmet. The man’s cry of agony as his eye was pierced by its claws made Bozkurt's eyes water.

“Ye can’ hav’ im!” Bozkurt roared as he fired the kurmiz and managed to hit the creature, or rather the arrow grazed along its face and ripped the tattered hood off it.

“You are so dead.” It growled as it got back to its feet. The bolt had sent it corkscrewing in the air away from Dante. The large man making uneasy steps as he held both hands to his face, though the helmet was in the way.

Bozkurt’s heart seized as the creature, now without a hood, turned to him. It was the elf lad he had killed accidentally earlier that very day.

“N-noh, it was a’n accident.” He cried, his face flushed red with pain and tears flowing freely from his eyes at the horror brought into his house this night. He began to frantically reload the kurmiz once more only to have it suddenly yanked out of his hands.

The elf held it in one chitinous hand and looked down at Bozkurt with visceral fury in his strange eyes.

“I’m out to kill a god, you think I’d let a dwarf kill me?!” He roared in indignation before his hand slashed out and Bozkurt fell to his knees. The heat that leaked down his chest and sudden inability to breathe made both of his hands move to his throat. It was clear his throat had been cut, no cut didn’t describe it properly, the elf held his vocal cords tightly in the hand he had slashed out with.

“Don’t worry. I won’t raise you after you die, I have no use for your corpse but this I do.” He said as he held up the Kurmiz with an almost glittering gaze to his eyes. Then as Bozkurt’s consciousness began to fade he saw the elf’s chitin suddenly begin to grow over the side of his face that was broken. Coming in as fresh white chitin before the strange effect on the rest of it seemed to crawl over to cover it.

Then with the last of his strength, he looked towards Dante and gave the man a fond smile. He had been loyal and Bozkurt thought of him as the son he never had. He had raised Dante since his teenage years, taught him to fight and made him not neglect his intellect.

He wished he could express it to the man, how proud he was of the man who had decided to become his bodyguard on his very own. In the almost two centuries Bozkurt had lived he had never had a more loyal and treasured friend. Then his life ended as his head hit the floor.

With the dwarf dead, I turned to look at the big brute. “Now time for you.” I almost snarled as I watched him stumble around, crying and shouting for Bozkurt to answer him. He was a few meters away from me and I looked down at the huge crossbow the dwarf had used. It was held like a rotary cannon or something and its punch was no joke.

My body was sore, bruised and I was certain many of my bones were cracked. I mean hell the guy had someone that looked like freaking Anubis. That had been tough, the guy had destroyed my skeleton with almost contemptuous ease. I was also rather certain if it wasn’t for the subpar sword he took from it, his skill would have sliced me up.

I was glad I managed to use wraith step well enough to make him miss me and hit railings, columns and walls to weaken the sword. His hand to hand could only be described as an experienced pub brawler. He used some rather uncouth methods to almost kick my ass.

I shook my head and dropped the crossbow down on top of the dwarf’s corpse and turned to the big brute. “Take off that helmet and let me end you quickly.” I commanded him, my voice still raw from my overuse of intimidating growl against that Anubis guy.

“Why? Why are you doing this!” The brute cried as he fell to his knees, most likely having realised I had killed off the dwarf. I was a little taken aback by the utter sorrow in the man’s voice, I had figured this guy as a hired thug or something. Perhaps they meant more to one another than employee and employer?

“You watched as he killed me today. I’m not allowed to have my revenge?” I asked coldly, despite the unease at my actions crawling in my gut I quenched it. I squashed it. If I began to show pity to those that had killed me I’d one day most likely learn to forgive Aona for her utter treachery and that I couldn’t have.

“K-Killed you?” The brute asked as he pressed his palm to his chest, where some sort of shield emblem was. To my astonishment, the armour he wore seemed to slide back off of him. Each of those jagged plates that made him look a little like some heavily armoured juggernaut more at home in Mordor than here, slid into one another before coming together into the emblem.

His face was a ruin, for some reason the claw wounds on one side of his face seemed like raw scars, not actual wounds. Though both his eyes were now gone. I had stabbed my thumbs into both sockets since in the heat of battle I had forgotten which I had taken first.

“The elf your boss killed!” I growled as I began to walk towards him, it was hard not to limp. My body felt like it was close to giving up and my vision turned blurry and focused at random.

The brute continued to cry. “Make it quick.” He then said with defeat in his tone. I didn’t trust it. I sneaked as close as I dared. This was a specimen I wanted to try out spectral skeleton on. I wouldn’t let the fucker catch me off guard.

With a little stomp towards him I then wraith stepped behind him. I was glad I did for he reached out to attempt to grab me, only I wasn’t there any more. With the skill active, I felt my mana and what little stamina I had left poured into my claws and with them, I slit his throat.

I had a feeling that to use raise spectral skeleton, the man had to die right as I activated the skill. At least so I think it works since I’m betting this skill binds the soul to the skeleton.

I took a few steps back before falling onto my ass and letting out a tired exhale. This had been a rough night for certain. With a mental command, I ordered the skeleton’s outside to come into the house and set up as guards in the interior.

Then as I opened my eyes again I was shocked at what I was seeing. Green necromantic energy began to pour out of the man’s body. The skin, muscle and sinew leaking off like it usually did but this time even his clothes seemed to do the same. Then as the skeleton stood and turned to me, I saw that the amulet he was wearing was also getting some of the green necromantic energy siphoned into it. I was speechless.

Then the armour began to grow again only this time it seemed to almost meld into and around the bones of the skeleton. Closing in around and also this time the armour darkened considerably loosing that dark metallic look with Damascus silvery patterns to a pure matte black finish.

Once it all finished the undead before me looked almost like Sauron from the Shadow of War game. Except his helmet didn’t have that crown like motif at the top, instead a single short almost spike-like part came up around four centimetres from the top above his forehead.

Twin green ethereal flames burst to life in the eye sockets of the armour which gave him an even more eerie appearance. It moved a little as if loosening up its joints and then looked down at its claw-tipped gauntleted fingers, clenching its fists before looking up at me.

I stood and was ready to wraith step the fuck out of there when the skeletal knight took one step and then went down on one knee. “My lord.” He said with the type of voice that seems to be coming from another realm, starting as a faraway whisper before coming in an almost booming echo.

I was rather taken aback by this sign of obvious intelligence and such a show of loyalty. “I require a name, class and function. What shall my purpose be, o’ lord of undeath.” He then finished saying as he lowered his head towards me.

I was rather confused before my head was bombarded with notifications and updates. I shunted them all to the side and looked at the skeleton knight before me. I needed a name. A good one. I already knew his purpose. He would become my general, the leader of my strongest divisions, I felt it was right. He would lead the heavy infantry into battle and would also be the first of my own war council.

Hmm Abbadon? Nah that’s a little too clichéd. I looked over the armour the skeleton wore, what weapons he should use and what I’d ultimately have to spend to get this particular servant up to snuff. “… Abhorash.” I was quiet before the name came to me.

The skeletal knight looked up at me, he seemed pleased with the name but I also felt curiosity over where the name came from was emanating from him. “It is the name of one of the greatest warriors to grace the old world. He was feared for his unbeatable martial prowess and great strength. You shall become one of my ruling council, under no one but myself. You shall lead the strongest warriors in the army that is to come.” I walked to him and placed my hand upon his shoulder. “You will be my martial champion. I expect great things from you.” I said with weight to my words.

Abhorash was quiet for a long time before he lowered his head once more. “I shall not fail you, my lord.” He said decisively. “What shall be my starting class?” He then asked and I got a notification with a choice.

This undead is labelled as a possible champion rank. As such please choose his starting class.

Death squire: The start of any death knights journey.

Squire: The start of any knights journey, from there will be choices to be made.

Apprentice Warden: When one’s job is to stand as the wall against the tide, one has to start somewhere.

I thought deeply as I stared at these boxes in my mind's eye. I got greedy again and decided to try and pick all of them. My head felt like it was being split apart and I almost fell to my knees. I tried again just with two this time and while I fell to my knees from the utter pain splitting my head open I got success.

Abhorash Has been given the class Death squire lvl. -1 and Apprentice Warden lvl. -1!

I smiled and looked at Abhorash with pride. “Could you go over this house as fast as you can? I want everything of value. You can command the last skeleton warrior downstairs to help you. I need to rest before we leave this place.” I said and watched as he stood and pressed a fist to where his heart would be and bowed just his head before he left.

Now those sofas are looking mighty comfy.