He shambled closer, the reeking odor of his rotten flesh wafting over with him. The nauseous fumes of undeath surrounded me. The necromancer stopped an arm’s breadth away, his face hidden in the cowl of his black cloak. Here was the thing I had searched for, the thing only I believed still existed. The rumors were true; the necromancers had survived. I tried to speak, but my tongue clung to the roof of my mouth. He reached out a rotten, leathery hand, and touched my arm.
“I’ll teach you.”
His grip tightened as I plunged my dagger into his chest.
Tale Told 