The Dead Rise

[*Midnight]

Years had rolled on into decades, decades had become centuries. The vampire had stalked Sigil for many of those, had plotted and planned, had wrought death and misery that had shaken many from the illusion of false life and the emotional shackles it placed on them. She had even guided some to the freedom of True Death, but for now she was weary, in her home beneath rag pickers square Emila climbed into the stone sarcophagus hidden in the basement and closed the lid on the world above.

[*Selebius]

Hasclaan watches over his wife's corpse, visiting her often, reading to her, telling her his plans, what happened. With no duties in Sigil he travels a lot but always finds his way back to her crypt.

He does not find it odd to do that nor seems he to be worried about her. The necromancer has time, so much time.

One day he will see her smile again.

[*Hydra]

One day a woman came to inquire about her uncanny ally and she was quite surprised to hear she was at rest. She left another message :

I was going to move on to the next destination and hoped to find you awake.

K.T.K

[*Midnight]

Some weeks later the corpse in the stone casket would stir, and Hasclaan should he be present would see the lid roll back. A rotting pale hand would throw of the stone and A cadaverous rotting skinned decomposed figure with a pair of pronounced fangs would stare at him.

"Blood, fetch me blood."

A few hours later a tanned red haired woman in the full bloom of youth would ascend the steps from the cellar and leave the house heading to the Mortuary. Something had stirred and awoken her. She did not know what yet but she would find out.