CHAPTER ONE- AWAKENING

"Where am I? What is this place? I feel trapped in my head, as words loosely twist around each other. Ancient words, ancient dialects having survived the test of time- and yet I understand them well. My tongue clacks in my dry mouth, and I realise that my vocal cords struggle to make speech. It is a rasp, a ghost of my Altmer voice- that voice taunts me in my skull, loudly. It begins to drown out the sounds of flame licking my fingers- I look at them. And see there are no fingers. There is only bare, cold bone...pale in the flickering orange light.

A gust of magicka propels the flames away, carries them further afield- something grabs me, in its talons. It pants as it struggles to pull me away from the battlefield. Smoke hangs high above in the sky, blocking the sun- it makes me feel cold.

But then I realise... I am dead. And reborn into a new being entirely.

I am Mannimarco, King of Worms."

"Early morning...or was it night? I didn't really care either way, since I still couldn't move. My old apprentice, a Dunmer by the name of Nivryna is keeping me underground. 'For your health', she would always reply in that rasp of hers. Obviously, being a lich had some negative consequences for her. But for me? I revelled in it."

Nivryna was worried. About her dark lord, her saviour... two-hundred years had made her attach herself fully to him. Become his tool of destruction and death- whenever he whispered, death followed. And so did the worm-thralls at that, she thought laughing at her own wit. But that didn't make her anxiety disappear. She pondered this over a corpse- with the head barely on, by a thin piece of skin. Her teeth clacked slightly in her head, as the hunger came over her. As a lich, she enjoyed the benefits of unlife. But when it came to food, well, that was more difficult to...solve. Her blood-red hair bounced, as she lowered herself down gently- and began to turn grey. Her face began to shrivel, and the flesh began to crawl off.

She lunged.

Mannimarco rested his head on the remains of his hand- and thought over his plan. Mannimarco, King of Worms, was going to make a return. And whether he should kill random people or not was the matter at hand. Whilst it was fun, it would quickly alert the authorities...and for once, Mannimarco would like to be subtle. Now, he only had to deliver the bad news to Nivryna. He barely cringed; instead, the bits of flesh on his face quivered slightly.

She would be upset. Oh well.

Mannimarco shook himself awake, as the smell of freshly-prepared pie wafted through the stale air. Although, he had been dead for over two centuries, his stomach rumbled. His flesh shivered, as Nivryna set the pewter tray down in front of him. She smiled pleasantly, and rested her hands on her hips. Her blood-red hair bounced happily, as she took the seat opposite him. They ate blissfully- but that was shattered, when their captive began to groan. The man's eyes opened. His muffled screams made Nivryna giggle. His apple-green eyes frantically twitched in their sockets.

Mannimarco, annoyed, grunted angrily as mutton was mashed in his mouth. Nivryna looked over at him, and worrying, stood up suddenly. She flipped her wrist and out came, her little knife. Her prized dagger shone with a red malice.

Wave. And thread through the air elegantly-like this! Slash. Slish. Slush, the torrent of blood rained down onto the white carpet. Mannimarco tore a piece of parchment, out of a hidden pouch, and scribbled something down. Nivryna, with her blood hair all over her face, panted. The old master held it up, for view.

And painted on it, was a perfect '10'