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Nagash rested. Nagash healed. And Nagash watched. Four intruders had managed to defeat his Tomb guardian guards and make it as far as the inner sanctum, where Nagash ruled his Undead Kingdom from a throne of bone. Within minutes, the foolish mortals would be stepping into his throne room. Then, it would be time to act. To enjoy their lingering death screams echoing throughout the hollow hallways of his home.



Unknowing that the Supreme Lord of the Undead watched their every move, the four companions made their may onwards, deeper into the complex.



At the head of the group, Torrilian, the Elf Ranger Mage, led the way with his lantern, totally lost, yet unwilling to admit it. "Just around this next corner, I promise! "



"That is what you have been saying for the last three hours, Elf fool." The statement brought a cold chill down upon the group. It always happened when von Graff spoke to the party. He didn't do it very often, much to the relief of the others. No one really understood why this cold individual was travelling with a group of gold fevered adventurers, especially this far into Nagashizzar.



The Undead descended upon them almost instantly, leaving the surprised band helpless to defend themselves. Three Carrion swooped, sending the adventures fleeing into the arms of waiting Ghouls. The Wardancer was the first to go down, his neck gashed open from a Ghoul's blood thirsty claws. Von Graff, the fastest of the group, acted. His sword dashed outwards, and he snarled savagely, taking two of the horrid Undead things down.



Torrilian drew his sword, and slashed wildly, blindly, into the teeming masses of Ghouls that seemed to be coming from everywhere. He needed aid soon, or he would fall. His voice a desperate squeal, he cried out to the armoured Bretonnian Knight Errand for assistance.



"On my way!" Being a Knight of the Lady of the Lake, Nicholas de Piére forced his way forward, placing himself between the Ghouls and the Elf Ranger, giving the mage time to cast a much needed protection spell.



Just as all looked hopeless, the unimaginable happened. Dark magic flared from von Graff's outstretched hands, striking a group of Ghouls directly. They instantly withered and died. Nicholas and Torrilian muttered oaths tho their respective gods, wondering who they had actually chosen as an adventuring companion.



There came a chill moaning from the depths of the corridor. Dread filled their hearts as three lumbering Mummies shuffled towards them. But the Mummies walked directly past the Knight and the Elf, and waded directly into the path of the Ghouls. They began to attack the Undead vermin, swinging large two handed swords. The Ghouls dropped like flies, unable to cause enough damage to stop even one of the lumbering Undead.



Soon, all the Ghouls were lifeless husks on the ground, and the Mummies ambled off down the corridor in search of more prey.



All eyes were upon von Graff as he descended to wards the ground.



"So, we're travelling with a blasted Vampire, may the Lady forgive me!" Nicholas spat. "You weren't saving our lives, you were saving your own."



Von Graff collapsed onto the ground and glared up at the Knight, a hungry look in his eyes. "You would do well to avoid me, Nicholas. I am weak now, and need to feed. There is no need for my meal to include you." He snarled so savagely that even the stalwart Knight stepped backwards a step.



"I wish nothing to do with you, Undead fiend." With that, Nicholas marched off down the corridor.



Von Graff almost smiled, Ghoul blood dripping from his lips. He looked at Torrilian and whispered almost inaudibly, "Isn't humanity a wonderful thing?" With that, von Graff returned to his feeding with savage vitality.



Meanwhile, Nagash watched and waited.