Darkness filled the cellar, deep and black as a moonless night filled the dank cellar. Water dripped from between the warped wooden ceiling, the first hints of roots showing through. Occasional skittering from small animals in the boards above could be heard. The cracked and battered dirt and stone walls were in no better shape than the ceiling, years of disrepair and poor workmanship showing through. Only the floor was well kept. Clean and even, covered in a layer of fine white sand, the floor was the reason the room even existed.

Sighing impatiently the lone figure in the room poured a light, even layer of black sand in a perfect line. The process was tedious, and he had to warn himself against inpatients. One wrong step would be the death of him, if he was lucky only him. Wiping the sweat from his brow her surveyed his work. He was a third of the way done with his symbols, not bad for a days work.

"We may be ready by weeks end," he said with a smile to himself.

The mage was not wrong. Weeks end saw him putting the finishing touches to his floor. White, red, and black sand wove in intricate patterns across his floor. Small candles were set in all the appropriate spots. For few seconds the mage marveled at his own skill. The spell was meticulous. Smiling contentedly he left his cellar one more time, resolved to study an hour before heading to sleep, he had an important night ahead of him.

**** "But...but how..." was all the mage could muster as he gazed at the darkl figure before him. He had expected a being of power, it was what he had been casting for, preparing for days to summon; but this was not what he had wanted. The figure before him was humanoid. Dark as night, he appeared to be wearing a thing cloak about his shoulders. Standing six feet six inches he was not over tall for a man of Rhy'din, short in some circles. His build was thing, boarding on slight. His hair was dark and curly, his long, elegant hands bore six digits to each. His eyes a swirling red of blood and fire, followed the mage unrelentingly. The creature knew this being had brought him here, and he did not look thrilled.

"You obviously failed mage," the creature replied. His accent was thick sounding Romanian to the mage's ears. "You spell was impeccable," he continued, looking about himself. "But you cast for the wrong creature. You should better plan what you seek human, for I promise the next being you call forth will not be so forgiving as me."

The mage barely had enough time to let out a startled gasp before the small metal dart pierced his shoulder. The stinging dart bore into the mages flesh, the cool metal planting a drop of the demon creatures own blood into the mages blood stream. The mage had not known his body could bear such pain, or that anything could burn that much without killing him. Or at least knocking him unconscious.

"You will live, though you may not want to right now," the being continued. "You will however be severely weak for a time...I believe you creatures call it a decade." Not sparing the mage a second glance the demon slid out of the cellar, and into the world.

"New bounty," read the sign in the marketplace. "2,000 gold to the creature who brings Mage Kristan Lokens the demon Necro Fortunis Alive..."

~Necro Fortunis.

((Looking for a little adventure as I get back into this char...used to play him on AOL ages ago...not looking for a fight though, just a bit of an adventure...))