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As they exited the inn Issildia spoke, "His name is Damien Ryera, the younger brother to Luin Ryera...the leader of the Ryera clan. All I was told was that their clan had a proposition for us...and that it might be able to save Streak...wherever he may be..." She paused before continuing, "If anything they will be able stop the necromancer that is trying to posses Streak...the Ryera are the best when it comes to necromancy...no one even comes close to their mastery over that art...At least that is what I have been told."

"You can not judge things in absolutes, no person or arcane art can ever be purely good or evil, it is our actions that define us...not the way that we carry out our actions...and I do not know if the Ryera can be trusted, deceitful they may be, but if they wished to harm us they would have done so already, thus I am led to believe that this proposition they are offering might just be real."
It was by this time that they were both at the edge of the village, Issildia paused her stride for a moment, as she looked out at the vast sandy landscape that now stretched out before them...It would be a difficult journey indeed.
Even so she resumed her steady pace as they forged ahead into the Aldrene Desert...

"Necromancy is a useful art , it is people like the Ryera that change our perspective on it, it is not so evil as you might think." Issildia then glanced at Archer's blade, with the frost covering it's surface. "What is wrong with your blade, does it usually behave in this manner?"

"Odd," Said Issildia , "I wonder..." her voice faded out as she looked at the blade again, and arched an eyebrow,
"I doubt that Eleazor looks kindly upon the art of Necromancy though..."

Issildia had hoped that she had hit a nerve, so to speak, in Eleazor. Either he would reply in some fashion to her comment or not at all. If the latter, then there was a chance that the necromancy she had preformed had harmed the blade in some way. But if it was the former, then perhaps it was only upset that she had used necromancy to heal his companion...

Issildia gave a half hearted sigh, "Wonderful," she said sarcastically, "I think that El and I need to have a little chat then...because he is acting like a foolish child."
Issildia looked at Archer as they continued through the desert, "Archer, half of my blood is of the Celtarie, giving me certain Necromantic abilities, I can enter the Realm of the Dead, subdue and banish spirits, and through Necromancy I can also replace lost limbs, or heal wounds that would normally require amputation." She waited for him to realize what she was saying before she continued. "Thus I think El needs to subdue his anger long enough to realize that you might be dead if it were not for necromancy..."

He grimaced. His eyes darkened, as he whispered, "My wings...: He gave her El, barely able to from the frigid temperature of the handle. He slowed down. He thought deeply about necromancy, about his life, about how much El meant to him.

Name: Bahaj "Kuchane" Firin
Age: 29
Race: Azerian
Gender: male
Weapons: He has a katana named Boaz. It is as black as night, and is enchanted by a demon of the underworld. It has a mind of its own, and guides Kuchane. It can use black magic, and can shaeshift at any time. It is Eleazors evil brother. He also has a scythe. Its name Is Dagon, named after the philistine god. The scythe also has a mind of its own, but is trapped with Kuchane after being bound to him by a more powerful demon.
Secondary Weapons: a chain with a sickle at the end, and a bow on his wrist, more like a crossbow. His hands have huge gauntlets, with sharp pointed fingers
Powers: Controls fire, and shadows
Allignment: evil
Appearence: Tall, but narrow, you would never guess how many people he has killed. He wears heavy clothing that covers all of him, and a red scarf that wraps around his neck and lower face. His whole body is wrapped in bandages. He has black hair, and red eyes that peer out of one of the only sspots exposed to light: his face. He has a hood that completely covers his head, casting his face into shadow, His cloak is black and tattered. His sword is at his side, and he usually holds his scythe.
Biography: He was raised in a good home, until he left home at ten. He could barely stand his parents, and his annoying brother. He visited occasionally, telling stoeies of his travels. He turned them in for money to the emperor, and has been traveling since he saw his parents die. He has been to hell in back due to a necromancy spell gone wrong, and now is hunting his brother. He hopes this will bring him peace, for he has battled his conflicting emotions for too many years.