Necromaster

Chapter 2- FGS

"Huh." Marco tilted his head at the figure. "Didn't know I was so famous."

"Oh, there's a list, but at the top is what grabs attention." The figure answered, his eyes narrowing at Marco. "Not since Toffee has someone challenged the magical high commission and lived. And I hear you got the better end of that arrangement."

"Someone's keeping score." Marco folded his arms, his smirk turning lopsided. "What do I call you, sunshine?"

"Necromaster will do." The figure said, his voice lowered to a whisper as his pupils started glowing the same rotten green as the great dragon's flames.

"A bit on the nose, isn't it?" Marco taunted as he swatted his dragoncycle's leg. The beast flew off and away, leaving its rider alone. "Though, I guess it does make sense. I mean a guy like you, any chance you're favorite brew is called 'Dad's dead, the money's mine'? Why not go all out?"

"Close, though I suppose your idea is shorter than 'Father's deceased, behead my brothers'." The necromaster snorted as he watched the dragoncycle fly off. The figure then looked back down at Marco, his hand resting on his golden dagger's hilt, his tone turned to that of a teacher to his student. "There is a fine line between boldness and arrogance."

"True." Marco shrugged, his hand grabbed his sword's handle. "But who would I be if I didn't press my limits?"

"Who indeed." The necromaster murmured as he raised his the golden dagger in the air, green fire erupting around it. The yellow metal glowing bright like an ember.

It was then that Marco made a second glance at the structure below his enemy. The dragoncycle rider could see that the walls contained a mural. Each one of a different image. A different being. A different symbol. The one to Marco's left began glowing a bright murky blue. Its mural was that of some frog faced toad monster. The symbol behind it was crossing tridents. The latter of which flickered the same sickly green as the necromaster's eyes. The rotten emerald quickly shined through the sickly sapphire. The creature in the mural sent a pang down Marco's spine, as it reminded him of someone he once knew. An enemy turned friend. Marco narrowed his eyes at that.

"I never thanked you for landing where I directed. So polite." The necromaster said, his tone acidly chipper. "So good at fallowing orders."

Marco dashed toward his enemy. High ground or not, Marco was not just going to stand there waiting to die. Though he only managed to make it about halfway to the structure before mausoleum's in the graveyard burst open, their doors flung straight at him. Marco dived and jumped out of the way just in time. Looking over, Marco could see a single creature coming out of each of them. They matched the monster in the mural only these were simple skeletons. Each one was about twice Marco's size, their bones were wider and thicker than any human's had any right to be. Their limbs long and gangly. Easy evidence that they were meant to carry and protect muscle and tissue that was denser and stronger than even being a head smaller could hope to achieve. But they were also chipped and damaged. Worn to the bone took on a whole new meaning for them.

They also weren't the usual naked skeleton one might expect. Though clothes were a bit too strong a word to describe it. Armor was closer but even then was a stretch. Their torso's and legs were covered in sheets of bronze, battered and chipped. More than one had a hole punched through it. Some even a few of varying sizes. Giving some hints as to how these creatures died. Their heads were covered by helmets that wouldn't look out of place in old Sparta, plume and everything as it covered their faces with only the eyes visible to the world. Though they were just as battered as the rest of the armor, even one dented in to well past where the skull should be. They also weren't unarmed. In one hand was the same silver-steel trident shown in the mural and a rusted iron net in the other.

There was no given order, or at least the necromaster didn't feel the need to give one. After fully escaping their graves, the frogmen gladiator skeletons looked up at their summoner. Their gaze was uniform. Dead eyed black holes in rusted battered bronze. Expressionless. The necromaster himself smiled down at his thralls, arrogant and superior as his glowing pupils overtook his entire eyes. Leaving behind emerald pearls that burned into his skin.

After a moment of this, Marco decided he'd had enough and picked up a rock the size of his fist and tossed it at the closest frogman. The one with the caved in helmet. Marco had aimed at that same dent, to get its attention if nothing else, but he was off and it landed just under the frogman's chin below the helmet. Diving back into where its neck would have been if it was alive and smashing into the vertebral column. The bones themselves didn't crumble, but instead knocked loose and apart, falling down into the its rib cage. The rest of the skeleton fallowed suit. Whatever magic that held them together failed or disappeared and the body fell to the ground and broke apart into a pile of bones and bronze.

"Huh, didn't expect that." Marco raised an eyebrow at the now defeated thrall. The necromaster opened his mouth and let out a shrieking wail that no mortal man should have been able to attempt without a special effects team. The two remaining frog gladiators let out their own answer to their master, though theirs was more of a normal croaking sound you'd hear from a bullfrog... if their lungs were the size of engine blocks. Not a moment later, they charged. "Oh, crap."

Marco dashed toward the pile of bones of their fallen cohort as it was equal length from the other raging frogmen. The gladiator skeletons themselves didn't run so much as hop like actual frogs, putting in more distance in a single bound than Marco could run if he had rockets for feet and they were heading him off. Grabbing some stones, Marco tossed them as he ran. Only for the gladiator skeletons to block or catch them with their weapons with even less effort than their jumps.

Having already run straight into one open trap once that day, Marco didn't feel like doing it again and changed his course to the closest frog gladiator skeleton. The second he was close enough the FGS tried entrapping Marco in his net only for the dragoncycle rider to hop right over it just as effortlessly as the FGS swatted away his stones. Speaking of, now that Marco had an opening he tossed his last stone at the creature's head... only for it to bounce harmlessly off its fittingly Spartan style helmet.

"Dang."

Marco mumbled flatly as the undead executioner thrusted his trident at him. Marco acted fast and grabbed the weapon at the curved metal between the prongs, barely stopping the attack. Death mere inches from his face. As Marco held the weapon he quickly discovered there was no push into the attack. Maybe enough force to thrust the weapon and pierce him, but that was it. Looking past the trident and at the creature trying to kill him, Marco could see how skinny and gangly the bones really were. How rotted they had become. The mass and muscle they were meant to hold together had long since perished and gone away.

Marco almost felt sorry for this undead warrior as he pulled the trident away, fully expecting to break away the skeleton's hands but instead snapped off both arms. Both Marco and monster looked at each other in confusion, well Marco did. Not a lot of emotion on a skull. The dragon slayer wasted no more time and thrusted the stolen weapon. The center and left prong stabbing into the helmet's eyes. The only part of the skull that was unprotected. The remainder of the FGS's body went limp before its neck snapped like its brother. The rest fell to the ground in a pile of bones and bronze. Arms included.

Turning over to the last of the trio, the last of the FGS either hadn't seen or didn't care how Marco had just defeated his fellow cohort in single combat as it continued its hopping charge.

Shrugging at this, Marco removed the skull from the trident and used that instead of a stone to hurl at his enemy. The third FGS tossed the net at the skull of its brother as it landed, clearing its path as it made its final lunge at Marco, its trident ready. Marco beat him to it, throwing his own trident center mass at the undead warrior. The stolen weapon effortlessly pierced the battle scared bronze, all three prongs impaling the undead warrior who quickly fallowed in his brothers footsteps as it collapsed into a pile of bones and bronze.

Walking toward his fallen enemy, Marco had found that the skull of all things was still- well alive wasn't the right word, still undead. That was probably closer. The frog faced skull continued to chomp away at Marco inside its shell of bronze. Looking down, Marco actually felt sorry for the creature. Had these warriors been allowed to fight him when they were still alive. Allowed the strength of the living, their armor was fresh forged and ready there was an excellent chance that they could have defeated the dragoncycle rider just as effortlessly as the trident had pierced the bronze plate. Marco sighed as he kicked off the helmet of a spartan hoplite, and with the same foot, stomped the skull to pieces.

"A fine second act." The necromaster announced, his imitation of a smile now an ungodly grin. Proud and devious as the stone mural of the frog creature crumbled to dust next to him. "I do hope this performance has more to show."