If anyone thinks they have the /perfect/ clutch for him to stand at, suggestions are welcome, as I haven't decided what to do with him yet. He's pretty neutral and could go with a good or evil dragon, but I think an undead dragon would be particularly fitting.
He most probably won't finished for a LONG time yet, though...
I think I should put up the other version of this from Alazne's point of view as well. It's actually got more info on this character's past than his own does. XP
(His given name is Abrecan, by the way... XP)
There are certain things one should and should not do when one is a well-known necromancer at a society ball hosted by one's king. And, necromancer or no, dressing in many layers of black with cloaks and face veils is something one should not do when one wishes to avoid drawing attention to oneself. Aside from the stares, the heavy robes and many layers of clothing can cause one to overheat.
The stares and whispers follow in his wake, but he ignores them. He is far too used to the harsh rumors and lies people people exchange behind his back, and he knows they would only get worse if he dared to show his face.
The fine clothes hang heavily on his thin frame, and the other guests give him a wide berth as he makes his way around the corner of the ballroom. He'd like to stay hidden and unnoticed, but that is, of course, impossible. After all, he is the Midnight Lord, the scion of the Shaul family, and the infamous necromancer. He grinds his heel into the floor sourly.
He lifts his head as he notices someone approach, and behind the veil upon his face, he blinks in surprise. Marlia-Neura's king approaches him, of all people. He starts to clear his face of emotion-but then realizes that it doesn't matter underneath his hood and clothes. The entire point was that no one would have to look at his face. Instead, he schools his voice into a bored droll befitting his reputation. "My liege?"
The king forces an obviously fake smile on his face which he politely ignores. "Lord Shaul, what a surpise to see you." Not really, he was invited after all. But then, he rarely came to public outings, unless he was all but forced to, so perhaps it was a surprise.
He answers politely and noncommittally. "Something compelled me to leave my castle and come here tonight, sire." Boredom, for the most part, though he doesn't say such things aloud. Liches are usually braindead and don't make good conversation companions.
The king smiles inanely. "I understand you've had many visits lately. From...old friends, perhaps?"
He stares blankly, unsure what the king is talking about now. "Y-Yes." He says at last. May as well act as though he has a clue what's going on. Bands of rebels, most of them workers of dark magic or other such unsavory professions have come by his castle lately, begging for shelter, aid, and occasionally, alliances. Could they be who the King is referring to?
The King quickly begins to loose interest in him. He cannot say he is not glad.
The old man's eyes move to a couple on the dance floor, and he smiles again, this time wider and truer than any he had ever received. Bored, he follows the old man's gaze. A young woman with red-gold hair dances with an older man. He can easily see that the woman-more of a girl, really, robably not yet even twenty-looks thoroughly disgusted with her talkactive partner. It is obvious, to him at least, that she is not happy being there. The song ends, and she breaks away.
He stands silently, unobserved for now, as she strides over to the king, who greets her warmly.
"Alazne, dearest, you are enjoying yourself, I hope?" The old king asks, taking her hands in his.
He can see the princess's smile is strained, and he interjects sarcastically, "I'm sure the lady is having a wonderful time." The sarcasm seems to have gone over the heads of his companions-just as well, he muses.
The princess turns at the sound of his voice, and for the first time, he gets a good look at her. The fact that she is staring at him, for once, does not bother him in the slightest. Her tall and slender body is covered in an extravagant green gown that does full justice to her deep brown eyes and the tightly coiled curls of red-gold hair which hang around her face and neck. For a moment, he is too captivated by her beauty to notice anything else. Such as the fact that she is staring at him with a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity.
The king's voice cuts through the loaded silence and breaks the mood. "Ah-yes-Alazne. This is the Duke of the Midnight Isles, Lord Shaul. Lord Midnight, my youngest daughter, Alazne."
The king is clearly discomforted, but Lord Shaul ignored it, and instead chooses to move his veil aside for a moment to take her hand and kiss it. "I am enchanted, Lady Alazne." And he is, but he sees the discreet motion as she wipes her hand against her gown, as though to rid herself of his touch, and his eyes narrow to slits, though he gives no other outward sign.
He bids them good day curtly, striding away as the crowd instictively moves apart around him. Of course, what else was he to expect? He was the infamous Necromancer, and inspired fear in everyone who saw him. That fact had never bothered him before.
