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Severing the minion?s neck Vas nearly bathed in the blood that was shed. Why, it wasn?t enough he needed more. Very few people saw him like he was at that moment. His hair wasn?t the usual color. The streaks of blue still remained but the red streaks were absent, normal brown replaced them. That was a good three pints of blood and apparently they weren't wasted. Slowly the gashes within the magus?s skin filled up, majority on his left arm. The blood was reinforcing it, giving it strength. The rest of the blood was simply formed into gems within the gashes. Three small sparkling ruby red gems under the left eye. What was gained from the life of some man? Very little, just some strength and decorations. Was life worth so little?

"You have Lira? Do you slave dog?" the adept asked, becoming suddenly alert. He didn't care about anything else. All his other possessions were himself. Just flesh and blood. But Lira, no, she was special to him. The boy was the only one who knew the present state of Lira. She meant so much to him that slight contact with foreign skin would drive Vas on a rampage.

"You do not know true pain. You do not know what it is to care. Watch your tongue." the young man looked down upon everyone. He viewed himself as a god compared to everyone else. I shan't help you purge this world of insolent swine, but you shall help me. Do not forget youre place." Vas replied rudley to his liberator. "Tell me, why have you freed me? For the simple purpose of bringing death to the land?"

The magus approached the necromancer, looking at him with his blooded right eye. "Do not lie to me. I can see all. I can hear all. I am not bound by this world for it is bound to me!" the prisoner hissed straight in the face of his savior. Rude indeed.

"You have my sis... my staff? My Lira? I don't care about anything else. Take a look, all that you have collected is naught but dried blood." the adept explained. Almost all that he possessed was made of himself. His own flesh and blood. "Indeed you do have some sense necromancer. Bow before me and adopt as your god!" the magus was getting too cocky at that point... oh well.

"Do not try to hide yourself from me necromancer, I see all. I am the truth!" the boy hissed, pointing at his blooded eye once more. "Come then, show me if indeed you have Lira and tell me of this poor and unfortunate world in which I shall wreak havoc." Vas smiled and laughed to himself. No... something about the necromancer wasn't right.

Still standing there, nude, Vas grabbed the wizard once again. "Now tell me mageling, will you raise all those that I have slain and overthrow me? Is that your true goal? It's dangerous you know, a mortal challenging a god." the lad said, turning his back to his savior. The hair blowing in the cool wind, blowing through the cracks in the stone walls. The young man's hair though, wasn't the same as always. The streaks of blue were still present as the insanity was constant, but all that was red was now brown. Not enough blood to come to power... yet.

"Fine, first you bring me Lira then tell me of this creature you seek. But wait... if you are powerful enough to release me from here yet can't capture a simple beast, then what creature is this?" the boy put his hand up to hs chin, searching the memories of what this necromancer could be searching for and why.

"So slave, why do you need this beast? A ritual perhaps or is it the true master of yourself? Still, you haven't told of this age and world... how long was I stuck in this hell hole for?" More than anything the magus was anxious to get his staff back. The adept needed it. The staff was the same as life itself to its' wielder.

"Well then, lead on. I shall decide on what my actions will be after I hear of this task that my dog wishes me to perform. How does it give back to me?" The self proclamied god seemed to twoer over the necromancer and his minions. Such great power, he did have a reason to be so proud after all.

((Wow, you're not giving me much to work with here. Come on man...))

"So much... so many changes. So the arcane arts aren't as widely used as before. Well then, I shall have an even easier time turning this world into hell." the magus wasn't devastated, more of surprised. So the technological took over the arcane. A shame at that. "Must we walk? Do you not know any easier means of transportation?! In this advanced world you still cannot find a better way to move except by walking. Even the arcane casters lower than myself do not walk. We view time as sacred. We cannot waste any spare moment and I am much too great to lay my feet upon this filthy world" the adept was full of himself.

Turning his attention to the necromancer's explanation, the boy was utterly repulsed. "A mistake necromancer. Three beings have such power. One of them stands before you. I have been to places that you cannot even dream. Again, I must repeat that this world does not bind me for I am greater. Within my so called insanity I have fund the truth. I myself have become a gateway." the lad found immense pleasure in praising himself. "Why you do not even know the trials I faced to become what I am now. I do indeed have that power which you seek and I have indeed been within the very essence of hell. So tell me then, why is it that you seek to possess a gateway to other wolds? To simply wreak havoc among the space?" as he spoke the young adept stretched out his left hand, marveling at the sparkling blood stones that he created just a moment ago.

Abruptly turning to the necromancer Vas yelled "Do not underestimate me dog! I understand all that you say. Your world is still too primitive for me. Why it's such a bore to be a god in a world of men" As the boy finished he thought of how much longer he'd have to tolerate this. Not having enough strength to take the desired actions quite yet. A few more lives to take and it'll all be done.

"What is it that you are planning to do within this other dimension? Trying to achieve godhood no doubt. Tell me, what the hell is the point of finding some filthy creature if you have all you need in front of you?" as the necromancer mentioned all those modern inventions Vas grew very pissed. "What in the nine hells are you naming? By gods who the hell needs all that? The arcane arts are the way of the world! No modern trinket shall replace the power that has been known for ages!"

At this point the adept was beginning to get interested, with all that talk of someone that might be as strong as he was. Just out of boredom and his sadistic nature Vas began to irritate the wound of the necromancer. It was the simplest thing that could be done, no power required. Abruptly the magus stopped. There is still use for him. "So tell me, who is this that equals me in power? Is he a man or a beast? Could you lead me to him?"

Turning on his heel, the boy entered the room without any thought. From what must have been his possessions all that remained was dry blood. But wait... there! On the altar! His staff. It still existed. "Lira!" he exclaimed while running towards the staff, dodging various objects piled up in the strange little room. Grabbing the staff, it felt so warm, so familiar. No... he still wasn't strong enough to harness it's energies. As the prisoner of ages touched all those objects that he himself carved out of his sister's bones they disappeared. No, not disappeared, but rather turned into swirling orbs of red and black, each with a small picture of the item. "Damn it" he hissed. "I still need to regain the power that was lost and taken away from me. Servant, take me to a place where I may fill myself with elven blood. It's the purest one there is."

((Hint hint, character interaction, hint hint.))

The club was dark and the bass throbbed the people and floors of the dimly lit place. Feeling slightly bored and out of place was a girl in her late teens, brown hair tied up in an intricate hair-style, and pale skin freckled and covered in moderate, but still hip and fashionable clothes fit for the club scene.

Milky white eyes stared about the area with an obvious lack of interest, there just because there was nothing better to do. Some people looked her way, some didn't, she chose who could and who couldn't by willing their minds to 'ignore her' projecting that she was simply 'not there.' Finally though, something made her stir, a slight tinge, no.. a WAVE of evil that was suddenly wafting into the place.

Ignoring it for now, the woman stood, and began to make her way through the crowd, literally. Sometimes she would go through the trouble of stepping around someone, most times though, she would just walk straight through them. The mortal would then either shiver as if suddenly doused with cold water, or glance about curiously. Neither mattered to Nika though, her attitude fixed on the stage where the latest entertainer was about to appear to the hoots and hollars of the crowd below.