Right, 3rd installment, soz theres no action in this 1 but there is some creepy stuff so i hope u forgive me. I own nuthin gamesworkshop is lord of the universe etc. . .exept owen, he is mine ppl
Opening the door Owen was met by the stench of rotting flesh and damp earth. Owen Sighed, the man Owen was coming to meet never was one for spring cleaning . . . mores the pity. Resigning himself to the smell, Owen stepped into the room. It was badly lit with only a few sickly candles in each corner. There was a desk against one wall and another door leading to an adjoining room on the other side. The desk was cluttered with scrolls, tablets and bits of human bone. In the centre of the room there was a large table with 2 sets of straps at both ends designed for holding wrists and ankles. It was currently unoccupied.
"Victor! Victor! Are you here?" called Owen, he could smell that he was of course, but it was polite to at least announce that he was here.
"Yes, yes, come on back, I'm nearly finished." Replied a muffled voice from the other room.
Owen crossed to the door and entered. Upon entering he found a ruddy faced man in his early thirties, with dirty ginger hair, bent over the body of an old man. The old man was quite obviously dead; he was starting to decay for one thing. "Ahh Owen your back, good to see you again, I assume everything went well, I'm afraid as you can see I'm a little busy at the moment" The voice was warm and hearty, and seemed very out of place considering the setting. As he said this he was carefully replacing the corpse's eye and it finally popped into place with a sickening slurp.
"It's good to see you too my friend, there were no complications of course, and no one saw me enter or leave so you should be in the clear. I assume this means that we are even."
"Of course, of course, if you ever need someone to help exorcise vengeful spirits again, I'm your man." Victor wasn't a bad sort as far as necromancers went. Of course he was still relatively new at it; Owen had seen how necromancy often twisted those who used it into crazed, paranoid, lunatics. Not a pleasant fate, which is why Owen had always been wary of magic, too many unknown side effects. But for now at least, Victor was a jovial chap, one of the few Owen could really call friend in this city.
Owen was still a little hazy as to why he had been asked to kill those five men.
"Victor, what did you have against those fellows anyway?"
"Oh, well I was a little careless, they were witch hunters you see, found out about my chosen vocation. They just don't understand what I am trying to achieve here . . . anyway, they were planning to kill me I believe so they had to die. Just lucky I happened to have a vampire who owed me a favour eh? Thanks again." Victor was still working away at the corpse as he said this, stitching a finger back on. Owen had previous experience of witch hunters . . . damn zealots.
"Ahh, I sympathise my friend, yes I had a run in with some of their kind, about 30 years ago it must be now. . .quite persistent they were." Owen reminisced fondly about the grisly end that those particular hunters had come to. "Anyway, it's getting on towards dawn and I need to get home. I'll see you soon ok victor, I would like to see how your pet project goes." The pet project Owen was referring to was his rather ambitious plans to resurrect a warhorse, apparently a very challenging feat. Owen was moving towards the door when Victor called after him.
"See you soon Owen, try not to get a sun tan between now and when we next meet." Owen scowled and stomped out, muttering under his breath about 'kids today' and 'no respect for their elders'.
Owen climbed back up the stairs and swept back through the common room of the inn towards the door. Giving a quick wave to Rebecca as he passed. Leaving the warm brightness of the inn, Owen returned to the dark and shadowy streets in which he was comfortable. As a vampire he had an instinctual knowledge of when sunrise was due and Owen knew he would have to hurry to make it back home in time to avoid being immolated by the sun . . . not a pleasant thought.
a review would be nice, its only a couple of minutes of ure time and you could make 1 poor sufferin wannabe author happy : D