Kenith sat upon a gravestone, one of his favorite kind of seats. Barefooted as always, he rapped the side of the old, moldy slab of stone. He grinned prodding the soil lying before the tombstone. Soon an ancient hand launched from the ground, skittering around. "A...hand?" He blinked in confusion, where is the- there it is, coming out now. He grinned wider as the handless zombie arose. The zombie found its hand and tried to reattach it, some what successfully. Kenith yipped in glee and went about, rising the undead from their graves.

A small group of assorted men had gathered in the distance. A human, a barbarian, half-elf, and a dwarf. All looked very well equipped for...vampire hunting. Kenith raised his gaze up towards the group. Suddenly he jumped back behind the tombstone and instructed the other undead to do so. Eleven versus four, good odds.

The men drew an assortment of weapons, and moved cautiously through the graves. They were looking for him. Yes he wasn't a full blooded vampire, but he still had vampire blood. Not to mention the fact that he had sucked some blood himself. "Where do you think he is?" The barbarian muttered to the leader. The vampire hunter, the human, glared about. "Hiding, what else? Coward, thats what he is." The group continued through.

Kenith counted the seconds till they were right on top of his position. With a silent order the zombies arose and charged the hunters. Kenith still hiding, for now. Eight zombies charged the half elf, taking him down and loosing only one in the slaughter. The other two were attacking the dwarf, and both were smashed to pieces with the swing of a mighty hammer. The remaining seven mobbed the dwarf, despite constant pounding, they were able to take him down. Three undead left. Kenith winced, he hadn't expected his numbers to diminish that quickly. He shook his head, creeping to more bodies. Two squeals, two zombies destroyed. One undead left.

Kenith dove to the cover of another gravestone, muttering under his breath. He didn't need to speak to cast the spells, but it wasn't the spells he was speaking. Rambling, it helped him focus. The two downed hunters arose, slowly but surely. Following were another two bodies from the graves. Five undead now. They took out the barbarian in a mass of slaughter and bone snapping. The barbarian went down after taking out all but one, one that was able to sink its claws into his chest. The vampire hunter himself was all that remained between Kenith and safety. He gasped as an armored hand yanked him from his hiding spot. "Accursed vampire!" The hunter drew a stake, and prepared to stab the dhamphir through. However, the stake never hit. There was a splash of crimson red as a phantom blade tore off the hunter's arm.

The man roared in anger, drawing back. Kenith grinned, his fangs aroused by the sight of blood. They prodded out from underneath his lip, aching for blood. However, their treat would have to wait as the hunter pulled out a sword. The guy had guts. Kenith tensed, he wasn't a fan of one on one. Thankfully, the man was missing an arm which equaled the situation more. With a flick his his forearm a dagger slipped into Kenith's hand. The half-vampire pointed his dagger at the hunter, a phantom blade hovering at Kenith's side. He would prove to them all, he can win.

After previous adventures in the Land of the Dead, Vangul had taken to spending a lot of time there. He loved the tantalizing scent of rotten flesh and maggots. He loved the fog that hung in the air at night, the broken eroded gravestones. Most of all though, he loved the chance of finding a new victim. There were often oppurtunist do-gooders here. They were fools on a crusade to rid the world of powers they could hardly understand.

He was approaching an area of the graveyard which he usually didn't go near, due to the fact that he had never had good luck there. But tonight something seemed to be calling to him. He saw in the distance, somethin strange unraveling. A group of hunters were there, vampire hunters judging by the stake one was carrying. There was a rather large group of them, and without his animate dead spell, he wouldn't have much luck fighting all of them. They were after someone though, and as they approached a particular gravestone, bodies of vicious zombies popped out of the ground, going after the hunters. They didn't seem to be in an ordinary frenzy...Someone was controlling them...

He waited for his moment of oppurtunity. The Half elf fell very easily, and the dwarf fell a little slower. The zombies were bashed to pieces rather easily, being so rotted and all. The barbarian was a mighty fighter, and the newly animated corpses of his fallen comrades were laid to final rest before he was finally taken to the grave himself. He struggled to find a glimpse of the necromancer who was hiding. He was really getting agitated, he needed to kill the last one. He was momentarily suprised as the necromancer was shown. He looked like just a kid, how was he already so good? The Vampire hunter had tried to grab Kenith, and Vangul almost drooled as the phantom blade cut off his arm. Vangul was just as excited by blood as Kenith, but perhaps for different reasons.

Vangul couldn't wait any longer, he needed his fix, he needed to kill him. He ran up behind the man, aimed his wand at him, and fired a dark crackling bolt of energy at the hunter, it hit him square in the back, causing a shockwave of darkness to burst from him, and it seemed to be enough to kill the man, as he slumped slowly to the ground. He raised his gaze from the body to Kenith. "Your very skilled...." he said. " It is a pleasure to meet someone so skilled in...darkness...."

As soon as the man fell, he couldn't resist the urge any longer. He was upon the body, taking in the blood as fast as it would come. He sucked till it seemed the veins of the man ran dry. At that point he finally looked up, blood coating his lips and drizzling down his chin. The blood was so delicious, so refreshing, it was his wine. The half-vampire rose to his feet, looking at the corpse he has sucked dry. Best not take any chances. Kenith stretched out his arm, the one clutching the dagger, and neatly hacked the hunter's head off. He then, at last, acknowledged the lich. "Skilled? I never bothered with anything else." He looked the bones over, a smile playing over his face. "You a lich? Never met a lich before." He walked around the living corpse, examining every little detail. He came to a stop before the being, facing him again. "You good at necromacery?" Kenith scratched his head thinking for a moment, "Necromacery runs in my family, dad is a vampire. Necromacer at that, pretty good...when he wasn't actually dead. Village folk banded together under some vampire hunters, got him. Didn't kill him right then though, no no they wanted some fun. They dragged him down to the village square. Tied him up there, let the sun rise. I saw the whole thing, never went there again." Kenith paused, noticing he had been rambling. Perhaps he had spoken a bit too much, said a bit too much about himself. "You don't intend on fighting...do you?" Kenith stepped back, his dagger resting somewhat agressively in his hand.

Vangul watched Kenith drink all the blood from the hunter's body. What a wonderful thing bloodlust was, if Vangul himself could, he would drink it too. He had a habit himself when he was alive of drinking his victims blood. He also bathed in it when he was alive but nothing stopped him from doing that now either. Once a month, he would slay about 5 people, hang them upside down, cut their heads off, and drain their blood in to a basin, then he would take a soothing bath in it. Afterwards if he was feeling artsy he would do some bonecrafting.

The Damphir was circling him, a look of fascination on his face. He must've never seen a lich, his bones were exceptionally resistant to decay, giving way only to the most powerful of sword or spell. You didn't get that kind of sturdiness much with zombies or skeletons, they were always leaving a piece of themselves behind. He chuckled, that was a good one, he always cracked himself up, though more often he cracked other people up.

Kenith said that Necromancy ran in his family, which was a good thing. He had a natural talent for it, unlike Vangul, who had to sacrifice many children and study many dark scrolls in order to become advanced. Then Kenith started complaining about his father, who suffered a horrible fate, chained and burned...Blah blah blah... He pretended to look interested while he was talking, and then he stopped talking. He asked him if he planned on fighting him, and although it was always tempting, he had plans for Kenith, and he wasn't one to slaughter undead brethren recklessly.

"No, I am not going to fight you boy." he said. "Yes, I am a Lich, do you like what you see?" he modeled his skeleton to the half-vampire. "It's not every day you find such a great example of the true power of dark magic. I sacrificed 50 virgins and 100 children to perform the dark rite. On top of that, I killed my own brother, removed all the flesh and organs from his skeleton, and used his frame as my host."

He wished he could grin, he would have the biggest smile on his face right now. It always made him so happy to remember. Instead, his eyes glowed a very bright red. He was very proud of himself, surely Kenith would be just as impressed.

"Well, the only problem is, is I think I was supposed to sacrifice an extra 17 virgins, so I ended up losing all of my spells. I am already starting to regain them though." He waved his wand, and his skeleton appeared at his side in a cloud of mist. Then he shot an enervation spell straight at a gravestone, which made a popping sound, but did no damage.

"I suppose it's rather sad about your father.." he lied. " It's sad what some have to go through for the greater evil. You my boy though, you have great potential, and my last attempt at an apprentice... didn't go so well..." The words "friend friend" and "Mr. Lichlich" came to his head.

"Would you be interested in becoming my dark apprentice? It's a great honor." (Hell, it was great honor to not be slaughtered on sight by Vangul, but he figured hed keep it to himself.) "We can wreak havoc and death across the land, and you shall have neverending feeding. The only catch is you have to do what I say. "

Kenith looked at the lich with a nasty stare at the fake concern. He stepped back, reassured that he wouldn't have to fight again. But then the sacrifices, ugh. Kenith disliked having to make sacrifices. They were so...barbaric. Kenith's distaste for sacrifices was clearly present in his posture. He recovered quickly however.

The half-vampire listened to his offer. "Would you be interested in becoming my dark apprentice? It's a great honor," he had said. Kenith had a longing to belong. He thought long and hard before deciding. "Yes." He looked at his bare feet, hopping he had made the right choice. "I will." He looked back up, hope in his eyes.

Kenith gave Vangul a dirty look, a look which Vangul wasn't insulted by at all. Anger was a great thing, it made the weak much much stronger. Anger could make a holy man kill someone in cold blood, and anger in a troubled individual was deadly to all around. It was a bit primitive Vangul admitted to himself, but not everyone was as sadistic as him. That was very obvious from the look of obvious distaste on Kenith's face. Apparently Kenith wasn't so affectionate for the exceptionally gorey details of being truely evil. Ah well, Vangul would teach him, and Kenith would become exceptionally evil, maybe even completely lacking remorse as he did. Thankfully Kenith had said yes, so Vangul could start working on him.

"Good...very good ...We shall rid these lands of all who have living blood in them, and you shall drink your fill of blood every night from our harvest of corpses. You are half-vampire, which is good, you won't be useless in the sunshine-filled hours." He began scheming, though scheming wasn't all that necessary when all you wanted to do was slaughter the innocent to sacrifice to your own dark desires. Perhaps they could achieve something greater, like their own kingdom of undeath. A world which they controlled, which had no light to hide the dark.

First thing was first, he needed to teach his apprentice whatever he could, and more importantly prove his loyalty. "I have no reason to doubt your intentions..." he said. "But I have to watch my back, and I need to see if you will follow orders. I know you can kill in self defense, that is natural, even paladins do that. I need to see if you can kill an innocent man in cold blood, just for the hell of it. I know an old man who lives in a cabin half a mile east of this graveyard. He is a crotchety old man yes, but he is very skilled in combat despite that. He is a retired paladin , and he still carries his Dragon Harpoon whenever he steps foot out of his house."

Vangul paused, letting Kenith take in the words, being a paladin surely brought out hate in Kenith, but now was the real test. " This man is one of the most noble people you will ever meet, unless you meet The Moon Knight himself. He has saved women from kidnappers, taken swordblows to protect children, etcetera. I doubt this man ever felt cold blood. My charge to you Kenith, is to kill this man, violently, and to desecrate his body, the more gruesomely the better. If you do this, I will accept you as my apprentice, if not, I will let you go, as long as you don't get in my way."

Vangul stared at Kenith, seeing how he would react. Perhaps he had found his apprentice at last, or perhaps he had wasted his sweet time. He would never get those murder-minutes back.
"

Kenith's hand twitched at the words of Padalin. Padalins were the cause for his father's demise. It had been a padalin that charged his father's home, led the peasants to their small victory. It filled the half-vampire with anger. The only good padalin was a dead one.

He looked at the lich with a primal distaste for his target showing in his eyes. "I'll do it." He eyed the bleak surroundings. Gaves, graves, more grave. He muttered almost silently, looking at his hands as though counting. Finally he became erect, turning to some graves. Ten in all. With a focused spell all the graves shook. Hands, then limbs, then whole bodies crawled out of their former resting places.

The dhamphir admired his work, eight zombies, two skeletons. The corpses were a mix of mostly human and barbarian remains, but a couple other races as well. "When do we start?"

Vangul saw the hatred in Kenith's eyes, the impulse to carve this Paladin's flesh from his bone. Hatred, anger, together they fostered murder. Vangul was quite pleases as Kenith raised a small army of undead from their graves. "Good...Good." He said. "We shall start very soon, let us march on to our harvest!" Vangul waved on his own skeleton, and began walking east. It was amazing how limber a skeleton could be when infused with dark magic.

---------about 40 minutes later-------

They approached a small log cabin. The windows were boarded, and the roof looked like it had been patched quite a few times. This paladin had maintained his hold on this house for too long. It was time for Kenith to put him in his place. Vangul screamed out "Awake foul servant of the light! Come face your death!" Vangul nodded at Kenith, saying "Your on your own" and then ran behind the cabin. Vangul would only interfere if Kenith were on the edge of death, and then he would leave him to deal with himself afterwards, his test failed.

The Paladin inside awoke in his bed with a startle, someone was outside and had challenged him. He slid out of bed, and threw on his Chainmail over his pajamas. Then he grabbed his faithful Dragon Harpoon off of the wall. He turned in his hands, and gave it a few quick jabs in the air, he was a bit out of practice, but this weapon was no peasants toy.

He put on his boots, and threw open the door. There stood what looked like a teenage boy, or was it...He had fangs. It was a vampire! And not just any vampire, he had an army of zombies and skeletons with him. The paladin chuckled. "You foolish boy. Why have you come here? Have you come to prove a point, to prove your better then the light? Well, I usually leave your kind alone, unless you cause trouble..." He pointed his harpoon at Kenith. "But I would say this counts as trouble. En Garde!" He held out his hand, and waved Kenith on, "Come on, Make the first move monster!"

Kenith grinned, showing his fangs clearly. He tilted he head to the padalin, signaling the undead to attack. Which they did. The swarm charged past the necromacer, more blood to be spilled, more blood to drink. He licked his lips, the appeal of soon-to-have blood so delicious in his mouth.

The half-vampire's hands glowed for a moment, the energy transferring into what was first a sphere of energy. Yet within a moment it had elongated, sharpened, and became ten times as deadly. A phantom blade had formed before Kenith, its use at his command.

He took a step forward, having the man preoccupied with the undead. The padalin was very skilled, but his skill would falter under age. Age that Kenith would exploit. The man should die happy, knowing he would become a warrior even after death. At least, thats what Kenith thought. One of his warriors fell, its head lopped off, then arms, then waist. Then another fell too. He would need to enter the fight soon.

The undead came swarming towards the paladin. As they came, he noticed Kenith had summoned a phantom blade, which he would have to be wary about. One zombie stupidly came at him from in front. He thrust the blade at the zombie's neck, knocking it's head off with the force of his harpoon , then he took a small dagger hanging at his side, and cut off it's arms and cut it in half so it couldn't be resummoned. One Zombie attempted to come up behind him and he turned, jabbing his Harpoon straight through the Zombie's midsection, and pulled it out of the side, so that thet Zombie's torso was hanging by a thread. He then kicked the zombie, and it collapsed. There were about 6 left, plus Kenith.

The man ran at a skeleton, and thrusted his Harpoon through its ribcage, he then pulled it out, the blades destroying whatever was left. He was winded now, he held his Harpoon to the ground for a second, catching his breath, but that second seemed to be too much, and he felt a chunk of his arm being ripped out by a zombie's teeth. He shouted in alarm, and swung around, breathing heavily, His arm was bleeding profusedly, and he would need to hurry this fight, so he could attend to his wounds.

Vangul watched quietly from the shadows, getting a little annoyed with the proficiency with which this old man was killing Kenith's zombies. He felt a sudden rush of joy when he saw the man's bleeding arm, it wasn't just a cut. THere was flesh ripped out of his arm. Perhaps Kenith could do this! Yes! He would have a new assistant! The first thing Kenith needed to do was actually fight for himself, rather then letting his zombies do all the work. It was best that they all work together, that's what a true necromancer would do.

Kenith moved in slowly, his phantom blade shimmering around him. It would do most of the direct fighting, but Kenith would give his hand in assistance as well. Though he wouldn't stand a chance taking the man directly. So he kept his distance, but close enough for the phantom blade to strike the man. Which it did so. The padalin was tiering, good. Kenith moved in quickly, jabbing with his dagger quickly, then withdrawing. He would keep this up as long as he had zombies to distract the man.

The zombies would swarm in one area, maybe one or two trying to disable his movement for a brief moment. That would be when Kenith would move in for his strike. The phantom blade attacking on its own of course.

Soon he had struck again, and again. His attacks did little damage, barely penetrating the mail if at all. However, his phantom blade was making lovely work of the old man. It would swerve and jab, almost impossible to hit with zombies attacking you all at once. Sadly, for Kenith, his numbers were depleting. Only four zombies now to attack.

The paladin quickly grew weary, taking on so many foes at a time. The phantom bladed repeatedly cut as his exposed arms and legs. It even slipped under his chainmail and got his shoulder one time. Despite all the commotion, he took out two more zombies. One of them had their insides ripped out of their chest with a great thrust and pull of the mighty harpoon. The other one was bashed in the side of the head so hard that it split open and it's rotted brains fell out. The zombie then proceeded to stand there doing nothing but drool.

The leader of these zombies was rather pesky, he would dart in, and try to stab him quickly, which wasn't of much use, but it was still annoying. He was also the one controling these undead, The paladin decided to destroy Kenith, and finish this battle. The remaining four zombies would fall easier. Despite his wounds and age, this Paladin would never give up the fight until he was dead. He charged at Kenith, his Harpoon held out in an attempt to run him through, and pierce his torso with the monstrous blade.

Vangul had managed to climb up on to the roof from the crates on the side of the house. He stood a bit out of view, ready to end the paladin's life with Enervation if he needed to. Kenith seemed to be doing good enough, but if that Harpoon tore through his flesh, he might need to intervene rather quickly. Maybe Kenith would still die, but the Paladin would die first. Some people might ask why Vangul didn't just intervene now. He'd probably respond by ripping their windpipes out with his bony hands...Well, if he was in a good mood, and he liked you, he just might tell you that "It's his test, he's on his own until he's incapacitated. That's the way I do things..." Unfortunately, there was no one to talk to Vangul right now, so he just stood there, waiting...

Kenith jumped to the side, stunned for a brief second as the blade tore along the side of his arm. Kenith stumbled back, blood oozing out of his wound. He wouldn't go down that easily. As the man had charged, Kenith's phantom blade had caught the padalin as he had slowed. It was a neat cut, slipped through the chain mail and dug into the gut.

Kenith moved about again, the zombies bitting onto the padalin as he struggled. It would only take a bit longer. Just a bit longer. Kenith ran at the padalin, the dagger clutched in the half-vampire's hand. He would end this fight fast.

Kenith dived down as the spear tore through the space he was at a moment ago. Rolling to the side, to avoid the spear that came back down, he continued his assault. Kenith finally got within range to use his dagger, and avoiding the spear at the same time. He jammed it into the man's chest, twisting it with all his might. The padalin flailed in agony, but was soon silenced by fangs becoming embedded in his neck. The half-vampire sucked and sucked till no blood remained to be had. Kenith stood, after cutting off the padalin's head, and turned to the lich. "How did I do?"