Snippet #1008737

Shyra watched the necromancers' halls, observing the commanders of the dead who passed in and out. In didn't take long for her to find a target. She made her way into his domain, slipping past the guards and servants, hiding in the shadows that cloaked her excellently. The necromancer's chambers were dark and provided plentiful shadows for the woman. The necromancer, uselessly cloaked in the black his profession favours entered the room, preparing to go about his business. That was, before the shade in one corner he passed by coalesced and black arms grasped the unfortunate man and locked him in position. Shyra emerged, surprising and frightening the hapless spell caster.
"Who are you? What do you want?" He gabbled, desperate. Shyra said nothing as she drew close to him, she brushed a talon along his cheek. The man shied away but the dark skinned shadowmaiden held his attention. "What do you want!?" He cried again, fear in his eyes. "Just holding a grudge," Shyra replied smoothly, "Do you recall a small village you raided 43 years ago? No? Well you missed one small girl in the village." She paused to let the statement sink in, the necromancer's eyes widened as he realised. "And I remember you." She whispered, Shadowglaive stabbing into the necromancer's stomach, the light bursting from in tearing at the dark mage's being. She left the body on the floor, a hole emptying the contents of his abdomen.

Shyra made her way out much the way she went in, unnoticed by everyone in the house. It would be a while before the slaughtered man would be found. The twisted woman smiled as she entered back in the main districts of the city, revenge was sweet.