Rigor Mortis
He wasn't very likable, the Necromancer decided, after watching the nobleman writhe in the shackles set before the roaring fires of the Abyss. No, Kain of Coorhagen was no valiant knight, no hero and certainly not a proper savior for Nosgoth. He wasn't even a decent human being but Mortanius was determined to make do with what he had. The man had bloody work ahead of him and perhaps it was best that he was less than scrupulous. Still, Mortanius couldn't help but hesitate, unseen behind the man in the white armor. He coldly examined how the man's own sword was pierced through his chest and how viciously Kain still thrashed against his restraints. The power of his fury was admirable, if Mortanius was one to admire such a thing. He had long since grown too cold to feel the heat of such things like hate and rage. Though the very deed he was about to commit was, in fact, revenge, it was a calculated and reserved thing meant to be done as cleanly and politely as possible. Such acts of passion were meant to be experienced by the very young for a brief period of frivolity before the rot of experience set in.
Mortanius glanced down at the black and still-beating heart that he had been absently clutching during his visit here. Yes, this was the trick. He wasn't even sure what would happen when he plunged the heart into the man, but the results would be interesting to watch anyway. Hopefully, the man would be turned into a very unique sort of vampire but there was no telling with this wicked art sometimes...
A smile spread slowly across his face, something that hadn't happened in years. He remembered that he hadn't always been so reckless with his power...there was a time when he had even feared it. How long ago that was! In fact, much of his young life had been spent in the concealment and restraint of his necromancy. So many events revolved around this fruitless pursuit...
While the flames of hell threatened to consume the chained nobleman, Mortanius lost himself in memories...