Kamber looked at the carnage unfolding, small islands of resistance were his guards and some of the wealthier patron’s guards fought hard. However, it was clear to Kamber that the enemy outnumbered the defenders significantly. He looked at Akrhan who seemed to look on in a bored manner while stroking his beard. “Please help us! This is what I asked you to try and prevent!” Kamber almost shouted, raising his voice just enough over the din of the battle raging before them.

Arkhan looked at Kamber and the elf seemed to have a glint of cunning and mischief in his cold eyes. “Are you certain of that?” He asked in amusement.

“Y-yes please I’m certain you will be able to turn the tide of this battle with ease!” Kamber begged almost going onto his knee’s before the old necromancer.

“I have certain conditions if you want me to do so.” Arkhan said as he leaned in towards Kamber the glint in his eye growing brighter as ethereal blue fire and liquid shadow began to pour off his armoured form. “I get to keep all the corpses and, this is non-negotiable, I get to pick two items from the stock of any dead merchant.” He said and Kamber’s face fell a little.

“Y-you greedy bastard!” He shouted, forgetting himself before growing pale and swallowing hard as Arkhan’s gaze turned hard. “Ok, but you don’t get to keep any corpse of a valued patron or merchant.” He then said hoarsely only to receive the amused cackling of Arkhans raspy voice.

“Abhorash!” Arkhan commanded and handed the blood drinker greatsword over to the armoured giant. “I’m leaving the strike team under your command.” He then said and waved his hand before him.

Kamber’s jaw dropped. Out of nowhere as if conjured from simple air more undead appeared. Four more bone wolves came into existence and howled into the air as the one that had followed Arkhan around came to them, their alpha it seemed.

Behind the wolves came two warriors, one who seemed as if his leather armour had turned to stretched skin over his bones, a rapier and scimitar in its hands as it saluted to Arkhan and this Abhorash as the giant seemed to be called. Next to the skeleton was another knight, dressed in what seemed formfitting armour over the skeletal frame beneath lending it an unnatural slimness. A spear and shield in its hands.

Behind those two was another skeleton similar to the first with leathers drawn over like half mummified skin and a bow with another similar one wielding twin daggers. The latter one, however, had a hood over it which cast a shadow over the top of its skeletal face, granting it a rather eerie look with its two pinpricks of ethereal blue in the middle of its sockets.

Abhorash seemed to suddenly burst into the same blue ethereal flames that covered his master as he simply pointed at the enemies before the skeletons who silently turned and charged. Then a howling shriek came from behind Kamber.

Turning with wide eyes of mounting terror he saw two Lycan like spectres, made of the same sort of liquid black smoke that now emanated along with the flames around Arkhan.

Arkhan was laughing happily. “It worked!!!!” He said pumping his fist into the air and two more spectres came into being wolfmen this time. “You know what to do, devour any spirit before you!” He then commanded and with hollow howls, the spirits slipped towards the battle.

Kamber had to hold in his bladder as he looked after the spirits and then at Arkhan.

What was he thinking?! Insulting and even yelling at such a man, he seemed to conjure undead out of thin air!! He had no spatial device save his satchel and none of the undead had jumped out of it. Then two more squat skeletons came out of nowhere. Jutting lower jaws and hunched figures with thick bones yet nothing like a dwarf at all. With fingers ending in jagged claws and teeth like needles the two looked around as if excited to fight.

“You protect Akasha and Morice.” Arkhan commanded and the two snapped their heads towards their master before looking at the girl and Morice. Morice was shaking in fright while the girl had hidden behind Arkhan.

An ungodly snarl came from behind them and a small pack of ghouls seemed to have managed to somehow avoid his minions charging into the fray. “Run them down.” Arkahn said waving his hand once more and three skeletal horses came charging out of thin air. One seemed to be a bone horse but they took to their task with gusto. Trampling the ghouls and kicking and stomping on the survivors.

“W-who are you?” Kamber could only ask as his face, drained of all colour and sweating from the sheer terror of the man before him.

Arkhan looked at him and then leaned his head back and laughed. It was pure laughter of happy amusement, something that didn’t belong in their current situation at all! Kamber almost voided his bowels of fright at the sound. “I am simply someone who’s out to kill a god.” He said with such amusement in his voice and such visceral hatred in his eyes that Kamber fainted at the sight.

“So what you think? Kid’s pretty ballsy huh?” O’Malley said with his wide toothy grin as he looked at Németh.

The old lich seemed to regard him a little before looking at the large circle before them. Within it, they could see everything happening around Vlad. “I don’t know. I feel a bit sorry for the girl to have caught his attention though.” She said tapping a bony finger against her chin in thought. She could see why Vlad had decided to adopt the girl, she was adorable.

“I can’t believe he actually took on an apprentice without even knowing that much about necromancy.” Zalruk said laughing a little at the thought. “What is he going to teach the boy anyway? What can he teach?” He said before laughing raucously. It was a rather ridiculous notion after all.

“Hmm, perhaps his own little brand of minion management?” Verona chimed in with her soft and pleasant voice. “After all we know what he is but even I didn’t expect him to have such a knack for necromancy. Not only that but he seems rather prone to experimentation and we have to admit he thinks differently than any being in this world of ours.” She said with a slight smile as she looked at Németh who nodded gratefully at her. Then her attention was taken away by a sudden crunching sound.

“Mhn” O’Malley began before putting more popcorn into his mouth. “Kid’s got imagination all right.” He paused to munch a little more. “I feel if he actually manages to establish himself, things.” Another pause this time to take a drink of a movie drink container, the slurping sound from the straw drawing all eyes in annoyance to him. “Will get rather interesting don’t you think?” The ghoul then finally finished and smiled at his cohorts.

“Wasn’t there a rule somewhere that we weren’t supposed to travel to other worlds just to stock up on snacks?” Sutekh asked with exacerbation in his deep voice.

“Oh’ please! Aona’s plucking people from worlds! I’m just getting snacks, food and drink. There’s no real harm in that is there?” O’Malley responded mock offended tone and all.

Sutekh only sighed and shook his head. The ghoul had always been a character that was for certain, just that O’Malley seemed to be a character just not in any good or likeable way what so ever. Then he noticed Németh sneaking her slender arm over to take a tiny handful of popcorn out of the paper container it was in and popped one into her mouth. “You too?” Zutekh asked as his shoulders slumped.

“No harm in trying since it’s already here is there?” She answered in that gentle motherly tone of hers. The lich made it hard to stay mad at her with her mannerisms and gentle nature. Sutekh thought she might be the only lich around that wasn’t a maniac or insane in some manner. Then again her kindness and gentle nature might be her own little form of madness.

With a sigh Sutekh gestured towards O’Malley who happily gave him some popcorn to eat as they watched Vlad fire shadow bolts, rip ghouls with Deaths tug, splattering them with the head of his gnarled staff and then he did something that made all the lesser gods lean forwards with surprise.

“What is that?” Zalruk asked with such obvious curiosity as he watched the bones from a dead guard turn and form into a whip-like object. This whip writhed around Vlad’s hand and then shot out, piercing through the skull of a ghoul and then pull the ghoul towards Vlad.

“Is… Is he… copying scorpion?!” O’Malley said before cackling with glee at the sight of the bone whip slicing, piercing and pulling at the enemies around Vlad. “I told you the kid’s got imagination! I just hadn’t thought he’d manage something this intricate with bone weapon of all skills.” O’Malley said stamping his feet in a quick rhythm from joy as he cackled more and more.

Sutekh had to give it to O’Malley the kid was imaginative. He had never thought of trying something like that when he had been mastering Bone weapon before acceding to minor godhood.

With a wave of his hand, he created another much smaller circle to view Abhorash, Vlads rather peculiar spectral skeleton. It was like Vlad had unconsciously imparted the undead with knightly virtues as well as some other qualities to his personality. The knight was almost carving through the enemies before him with ease.

A large side swing going through three ghouls before he used that momentum to turn around and bring his sword down onto another ghoul who had tried to come up behind him. The knight was exquisite though the other two warriors left something to be desired.

Both of those skeleton warriors were backed up against one another and were barely managing to fight off the ghouls that attempted to swarm them. If it wasn’t for the support of the archer, who was protected by the rouge, Sutekh thought they’d have been overrun with ease.

“He’s still got a long way to go. He hasn’t even reached his first threshold yet.” Verona suddenly piped in and the council looked to her. “I think he’ll want to talk to all of us about the abilities we imparted to him. Especially Némeths, Zalruk’s and my abilities.” She then said as she watched Vlad whip his hand so hard that the staff in his hand made the head of a ghoul explode.

“You might have a point. Especially with yours Verona.” Zalruk commented. “After all on that continent vampires are simply a myth. Either fled or killed by those zealots of the light.” He grumbled.

“Hmm are we going to be seeing the birth of a new bloodline you think?” Verona asked curiously as she looked at the large high Nerubian.

“If O’Malley is correct about Vlad’s imagination and creativity I suspect that we might see more than just one bloodline rise from his actions.” Németh said mysteriously before suddenly taking out a small margarita glass from thin air, to the groan of Sutekh. “Oh Shush Aona broke the rules first and breaks them a lot worse than us.” She chided him in a teasing and amused tone.

“More than one?” Verona asked into the air. Sutkeh knew that one bloodline could be terrifying if their progenitor was still alive but creating more than one from a single source? That would be a feat for certain for any mortal.

“Hmm Perhaps we should bring him in here when he sleeps?” Zalruk suddenly said, sounding like he was thinking aloud as he watched Vlad in action on their magical screen. “I feel he is devious enough to manage to infiltrate a magical school on his own but...” He trailed off as he watched Vlad kill a ghoul by using shadow infused raise skeleton on it, while it was still alive. The result was… rather gruesome.

“He won’t be learning any necromantic spells there.” Németh finished for him. “That is true, even the book this Campbell character gave him doesn’t really teach him how to cast any spells. It’s all about experiences and what some skills do and how to gain them. It doesn’t delve too deeply into the magical aspect of being a necromancer.” She said gently as she watched Vlad seem to have a lot of fun fighting this low levelled horde of ghouls.

“Hmm, Ya think he might manage grand Necrarch?” O’Malley asked as he rubbed his chin, the popcorn and soda gone from his hands, now a simple beer bottle in his other hand. “I mean there hasn’t been one since the old masters age. So might he manage it?” He asked in thought.

“If he shows himself as imaginative, creative and resourceful as he’s been if not more so then perhaps.” Sutekh said as he took off his helmet and rubbed at his bearded chin. “I mean it’s a rather hard class to simply get to begin with.” He said as he looked at the others who all nodded.

“A level seventy necromancer.” O’Malley began.

“A level fifty Apothecary.” Németh continued.

“Level fifty Enchanter.” Zalruk kept going.

“And a level fifty artificer.” Verona sighed. “I mean it’s hard enough to get that up but then he’ll have to level that class up to eighty just to turn it into Grand Necrarch. It’s a long, long road.” She said with a tired sigh. “I know he’s more talented than we anticipated when it comes to necromancy but aren’t we forgetting something.” She then said and gave the other councillors a deadpan stare.

“You mean what he’s most talented in magic wise?” O’Malley asked with his toothy grin. Verona nodded. “Well we know what he is after all so it isn’t all that surprising but that was a very interesting reaction. Zalruk should we perhaps send that Arachnee acquaintance of yours to teach him in our stead? I mean it wouldn’t be boring having him take night classes here with us but… won’t it get tedious in the long run? I’m sure Vlad will be one of those students full of questions.” O’Malley said sighing as if defeated.

“You’re just lazy.” Sutekh grumbled at the ghoul, who gave him a toothy grin and a wink.

“Guilty as charged.” O’Malley replied and began to cackle.

Sutekh rolled his eyes and sighed. “We still have some time to decide if we will take him in here to teach him but there is something I want to clarify first.” Sutekh said and the seriousness in his tone caused the others to lean in and look at him with interest.

“If he is to come here to be taught we shouldn’t just teach necromancy spells. We should try to guide him to become a Necrarch, a Shadowmaster and...” He paused here as he knew he might be unrealistic in his goals. “A Death king.” He then said and the silence that followed was deafening.

Németh seemed to be the first to recover as she leaned back and held onto her chin as she thought, carefully over Sutekh’s words. “There’s never been anyone ever with all three of those classes at once. You realize he’ll have missed out on at least two racial changes and will be forced to take two others as a result?” She asked Sutekh who nodded seriously.

“Not only that but… He’ll have to master the abilities we gave him.” O’Malley said, all the sudden just as serious as the others.

“Could we even do that?” Verona asked curiously. Sutekh knew she was a shadowmaster and would be the perfect teacher for both the vampiric abilities and shadowmancer path for Vlad. Much like Sutekh was the last Death king.

“I think we can. Imagine what he could do with that kind of power and his mind?” Sutekh asked the others and he saw he might be persuading them to see his point.

Silence reigned for a long time as they were all deep in thought while watching Vlad slaughter the horde of level one to three ghoul and minor skeleton swarm that, that spirit had brought with him.

“However that leaves just one question.” Zalruk suddenly spoke after a long silence. All of the dead council looked at him with interest and anticipation. “Should we?” That alone made all of them realize the weight of such a decision and what it would mean for the continent of Imerith. If not the rest of the world at large.

Morice couldn’t believe his eyes. The old man fought like a warrior in his prime, without any care for his staff to support him. He held onto Akasha, Arkhan’s newly adopted daughter as he had found out and just stared on in morbid fascination.

The man’s skeleton warriors seemed to be in trouble though with the archer supporting them they managed somehow. The wolves tore into the ghouls and snatched pieces of skeletons away from them in lightning attacks, always fading away before the enemy could retaliate. The horses just bull-rushed and trampled any that even got near Morice and Akasha and their two almost deformed diminutive skeletal guards.

Then there was the master of these undead and his knight. Islands of such power and violence that some of the ghouls had begun to try and flee from them, only to be pulled back by tendrils of invisible power and run through with bone, steel or even fist at times. However as fascinating as it was to see Morice could see that Arkhan was tiring, and he was tiring fast.

He had missed a few attacks directed at him, having to rely on his armour to take the blows of broken fingernails claws and bones. He’d soon be overrun if he didn’t fall back.

“M-Master Arkhan! Get back!” Morice suddenly shouted as he looked around for a weapon to try and aid his master. There was nothing around him that he could use.

He cursed himself for his weakness and how useless he was as a necromancer. He needed a weapon to bring his warrior class to bear but there was nothing he could use and it frustrated him.

“D-Dad!” Akasha’s fearful voice called out and Arkhan stiffened for a moment before suddenly gathering the bones around him into a sphere that he left behind as he suddenly just vanished. The sphere exploded and shrapnel of jagged bones tore up the skeletons and ghouls left behind.

“Akasha!” Arkhan called out as he suddenly just appeared in front of the two of them, going down to his knees and looking over the girl. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?” He asked almost frantically which surprised Morice. Did the man bond easily with people he liked or took an interest in or something?

“N-no, I-I’m scared.” Akasah let out in sobs before crying only to end up burying her face into Arkhans shoulder as he picked her up to console the poor girl.

Arkahn looked at Morice and then at the passed out Kamber who seemed to have pissed himself of fright. “Thank you for looking after her Morice.” Arkahn said as he looked over his shoulder at the raging battle behind them. “I think this will be over soon.” He said as his spectres suddenly tore out of the chests of ghouls, spraying black fetid blood all over the place. The spectres dove in and out of the combat, not able to be hit by the ghoul’s claws or skeletons mundane weaponry as they tore, ripped, smashed and mutilated skeleton and ghoul alike.

“AHHH!!!” A shrill scream came from ahead in the market. The people had managed to get into the auction hall behind the wall of guards and Arkhan’s minions for protection, those still alive that is. “You dare! You are in MY catacombs, you are uninvited!” The voice came again, Morice remembered the owner of that voice, the Necroshade.

The apparition came floating in, a spirit of an old and emaciated man with a beard that seemed to float as if he was underwater, his green ethereal form visible for all to see. “I will remember this affront! I will return and wipe this place clean of your mortal filth!” He screeched before bursting into green flames and disappearing from sight. His skeletons falling over while the ghouls routed and were run down by the undead horses and wolves under Arkhan’s command.

“So that’s him huh? Ugly sum’bitch innhe?” Arkahn said with amusement though Morice could see just holding onto Akasha now as a hard task for him. He was breathing heavily and using his staff more than ever to support himself. Morice moved to help him and received a thankful nod from his new master.

“I don’t know what you mean but he did look horrid.” Morice said with an apologetic smile. He still couldn’t believe he had actually gained a master in necromancy. One with such power and ferocity that he had barely needed any protecting like most necromancers needed that Morice had heard about. This Arkhan was definitely something old and powerful, or new and dangerous to Imerith’s lands. Morice felt oddly proud to have actually managed to become an apprentice to such a man, he only hoped his clumsiness and almost shy mannerisms wouldn’t cause Arkhan to abandon him.

“I think it’s about time to go and see what corpses we have gained.” Arkahn then said and gestured with his head towards the littered ground before them. Morice then realized that before them was a treasure trove of materials for necromancers and almost let go of Arkhan to collect it all. Almost.

The skeleton warriors and Abhorash suddenly began to move around, separating the people from the skeleton’s and ghouls which they piled up in separate piles. “If you see a merchant that had a stall let me know.” Arkhan said as he moved towards the grim work his minions were doing with Morice’s help. Akasha still hugging his neck tightly and sobbing into his shoulder, the poor girl.

“W-wait! What are you doing?” Nazim’s voice came all of a sudden, ragged and weak. The man hadn’t gotten out of this unscathed at all. He was clutching his arm to his body and had cuts and bruises all over. He looked hard at Arkhan who hadn’t come out unscathed either, the old man was limping along and Morice thought if it wasn’t for him helping the man he’d be sitting down right about now.

“I’m getting my corpses and seeing what stalls I get to pick two items from.” Arkahn said and his tone while calm had an edge to it. Abhorash even stood and looked towards Nazim, his hand on the pommel of his greatsword. “Or are you saying you’d have all made it without my help?” Arkhan’s voice took on a darker tone and every survivor huddled together at the back of the auction hall wilted before his stare.

“N-no I’m not saying that. I ju-just thought you were about to take the bodies of our people.” Nazim said apologetically as he approached slowly.

“Hmph, I have enough materials with just the ghouls and skeletons. I’m only hoping that a storage trinket seller died so I have somewhere to put them all.” Arkhan said callously as he almost jerked his head to the side to look at his minions at work away from Nazim.

“T-Then I’ll help you identify the bodies. I’m sure with Morice and myself we’ll be able to get an accurate count.” Nazim said and walked next to them. He gave Morice a look as if to ask if Arkhan was faking and while Morice gave him an affirmative look to say Arkahn wasn’t. He also gave a look of warning, the old man wasn’t without his tricks and if he died the powerful undead around them would be without a master and fully able to slaughter them all before crumbling.

It took almost half an hour to sort everything out and as Arkhan had hoped two storage trinket sellers had died and he had taken their largest containers for himself. Along with that were some enchanted armour and weapons, a few magical trinkets and even a few tomes that seemed to interest Arkahn.

Once everything was done and the old man had put his adopted daughter on top of the bone horse to ride, he turned to look at Nazim and Morice. “Thank you for your assistance. I must say this has been a much more lucrative day than I had even dared to hope for. I’ll be certain to come back once I’ve rested and recovered to clear out this Necroshade. A promise is a promise after all.” He said with a tired yet kindly voice as he nodded to the men before him.

Most of his minions had been swept up into thin air once again along with most of the items that had been placed into the gained storage trinkets, two bags, a necklace and a belt buckle were all placed into his satchel for later use. “Now my boy, I think it’s about time for you to get your things.” He then said to Morice before putting his hand upon his shoulder and gently patting it.

Morice almost shook with emotions of elation and excitement, his smile wide and almost lip splitting. “I’ll meet you where you told me to master Arkhan. I’ll try my best to be a worthy apprentice to you.” He said and bowed deeply to the old man, who only chuckled good-naturedly at the action.

“I’ll see you later then Morice.” He said with a nod and then walked away. Abhorash on one side and Akasha riding the bone horse on the other.

“This has been one strange and terrible day.” Nazim grumbled once the old necromancer was out of earshot. “Kamber’s going to have fit when he hears what wares Arkahn took with him.” Nazim said as he kicked an empty helmet that was laying on the ground and stomped away.

Morice wanted to but didn’t have the heart to tell Nazim that Arkhan had also taken quite a number of coin pouches from the dead men as well as slipped a few of the large sacks behind some of the stalls into his spatial bag when no one was looking.

Morice thought of it as the market paying for his education fees and besides any magical profession needed capital. Necromancy a little less than the others but having a large pile of capital to fall back on was never something one denied. And besides, the coin’s stolen by Arkahn all belonged to dead men anyway. Not like they’d need to use it.

Morice went around and did just a tiny bit of pilfering of his own, getting some of the corpses of slaves that had been massacred in the slave hall and some of the items the real nasty slavers had on their corpses. Once that was all done and he had made sure to retrieve his entire stock and gotten his hands on a few labourer oriented class tomes. Along with informational books on architecture, engineering, enchanting, mining and prospecting and the like he slipped away. Wary of any hiding undead that the guards had missed when patrolling the catacomb way’s out once more.

Once he was fully out he looked back at the entrance to the catacombs that the black market was using. A little hole in the wall in the middle of an almost labyrinthine side streets and back alleys. He smiled and almost jumped with joy with each step. Today had been a fantastic day, well despite the horror of the Necroshade’s attack that is. He had gotten a master, gotten fantastic materials and he was even finally getting out of that dingy little shack he called home.

Part of him was glad he didn’t ever leave anything of value to him in that shack. Arkahn had even offered to pay for his inn room at the Likeable Owl inn of all places.

Once he had managed to get out of the side streets and alleyways he noticed the guards running around. A few skeletons and ghouls could be seen in the main market square. Morice stopped and swallowed, so they hadn’t even dealt with the main force of the Necroshade?! He had sent maybe half into the black market while the rest swarmed out and into the streets of Bedelev.

Morice took it slow and carefully made his way across town, stopping every so often to gather information. It seemed the guards were planning a raid into the catacombs to try and clean out any remaining undead and had even offered a reward for adventurers seeking to help Bedelev.

Morice made sure to memorize everything as best he could, he wanted to give all of this to his new master and see what he wanted to do.

Judging by how the guard was talking they’d strike within two days, they needed time to heal up and prepare it seemed. Many were wounded and Morice could hear the groans and screams of the dying and heavily wounded. His heart sank a little at those sounds.

He stopped and smacked his cheeks with his hands lightly to try and put those thoughts aside. He was a great necromancer’s apprentice now, he needed to act like it. He straightened himself up and then wilted a little and almost lumbered towards the inn.

“Perhaps that isn’t for me?” He said aloud as he thought that the joy of necromancy to him was the creation of something kind of living from bare-bones and such materials. Maybe he wasn’t cut out to be one after all?

No that couldn’t be, Arkahn seemed like a kind soul and he’d even adopted a slave girl of all things.

Morice straightened up once more and inhaled deeply. He needed to show his worth to his new master. With that determination he walked into the inn and looked around. He had hoped to see Abhorashs towering form but then realized that would be stupid of Arkahn to have just outside on a normal day. Let alone in the current situation the city found itself in.

He did, however, notice Akasha, sitting at a table in one of the corners with a well-groomed and dressed Dökk Alfar. The man was young, maybe four or five years older than Morice himself. He had black hair that seemed to be tied back in a ponytail, though the sides of his head was shaved in a peculiar style. He was dressed in a slik embroydered kaftan with the hood back and some rahter well made clothing. Morice noticed looking on that even Akasha had gotten much better clothing than the rags she had worn before and she was even clean. He almost couldn't recognise her. The man was smiling fondly at Akasha as he watched her eat a stew that had most likely been ordered just moments before.

That girl certainly could eat, Morice had seen her finish almost three skewers by herself not an hour ago and while three would be enough of a meal for him it seemed the girl needed more. How starved had she been?

With a gulp, Morice walked towards the table and stopped just next to it. Akasha noticed him first and smiled up at him with such happiness that it almost melted Morice right then and there. Though the stew stains and bits in her teeth did draw a little from the cuteness of the sight.

“Hello Akasha.” He said kindly and the Dökk Alfar man next to her seemed to snap out of wherever his mind had been and he looked up at Morice.

“Hi, Morice. Come sit!” Akasha said with gusto before she went back to devouring the stew, like it owed her money.

“I’m Morice I’m Akasha’s father’s apprentice, and you are?” Morice said with impeccable manners as he extended his hand towards the man who smiled wryly as if he knew of some joke that pertained to Morice but wouldn’t say.

“I am Vlad Von Carstein.” The young man said and Morice swallowed hard. Usually, those with a last name were lords and of nobility, who was this man?! “Akasha, tell Morice your full name please.” He then said with a wide toothy smirk, he had slightly longer canines than normal for Dökk Alfar and that odd detail stuck with Morice for some reason.

“Yes.” Akasha said happily, though first, she took a big sip of water from the cup next to her. Standing up and bowing as if she was noble-born she spoke. “I am Akasha Von Carsein, daughter to Vlad Von Carstein of the Carstein lineage.” Morice stared at her.

Then he looked at the man who had a fond grin as he looked at the girl before looking over to Morice. Morice looked from Akasha to Vlad to Akasha to Vlad to Akasha once more and then again at Vlad who had that mischievous smirk on his face as he praised Akasha for doing so well in her introduction.

Then Morice fainted.