No answer. Damn. Gilbert looked at the horse who was drinking from the stream without a care in the world. Could the elf have left go to distract his pursuers? Did he leave so fast Gilbert couldn't even have a look at him? God dammit. Truth be told he was a bad hunter and a horrible tracker, if what his servants had said was true and elves couldn't be tracked? This was a pointless exercise... No, there was simply so much Necromancers and Vampires out there, he couldn't slip by, no one was this good. "Alright, break's over!" He gave out a loud whistle and sheathed his sword and shield before making his horse move forward. He took the horse that had been left there as well. No point in it staying here.

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Hours later Gilbert galloped through the town bellow his castle and climbed to the castle itself. In front of the gates, a small regroupment had been formed. Vampires and necromancers. Judging from their gear, they were part of his hunt. He came to a halt before them. "What are you doing here?! Why aren't you out there looking for the pointed ear filth?!"

One bowed before him before speaking. "My lord, the horses are tired and the mortals among us need to feed, it's already been hours and we are pass midnight-"

Gilbert slapped his forehead and made his hand go down across his face. "Take out some food and fresh horse and continue then! I want this elf in shackles before tomorrow's sun zenith, he's still out there, he has to! And I won't be humiliated by having subordinates so incompetent that they can't catch an elf with no leaves to hide in! Now go! Go and don't bother me until you are done with this! His blood for the vampire or his body for the necromancer that bring him to me!"

"YES MY LORD!" With this they began to leave the front gate. Gilbert made his way through it and went to the central court yard, leaving his dogs and horse to an undead guard, the Falcon knew his way to its home so he did not care about it. He entered the main building and began to remove his armored gloves. A silhouette emerged from the door, one of his assistants, they didn't mingle much with the others and apparently he didn't feel compelled to answer the call for the hunt. No matter, Gilbert didn't feel like berating him. The assistant began to speak. "How was-"

Gilbert interrupted him by removing his helmet and throwing it on the ground loudly. "HORRIBLE! This little bastard hides better than a needle in a stack of hay and my subordinates are too incompetent to find him!"

The assistant didn't mention that Gilbert had been with them as well as he walked through the main hallway and into the throne room. The assistant continued softly. "Perhaps he already left to go back in the woods my lord."

Gilbert turned around and crashed his rear in the throne. "I know them! Even before I had to take over this excuse of a kingdom they were always so arrogant in their own damn superiority, immortal, knowledgeable of magic, nature's blasted chosen people!" He threw down the gloves he had kept and retracted his elbow on the arm guard and then held his cheek with his fist, pouting.

The assistant bowed respectfully before raising his voice. "Perhaps, but perhaps our latest success has shall we say... tarnished their courage? It is possible that they've realized they are mortal indeed and that capture is possible."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Then it's almost the same!" He let himself slide and sink in his royal seat and began to remove his boots with his feet, pushing the heals and flinging them across the room. "This place... it's boring... and now, that the gods hear my plea and send me something that could at least keep my attention for a whole damn day, I just miss it and let it get away from my grasp! ... " He was silent for a moment and just covered his eyes with the hand he had used to hold his cheek. Eventually he raised a hand to shoo away the robed man before him.

After a few minutes of silence, an undead cat jumped on him, making him jump a little. "Oh Florian... come to join me in another boring night?" He began to pet him absentmindedly.

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The next day, Gilbert had recieved no news of the elf. Of-fucking-course. Gilbert had decided to do a little reading on the upper garden of the palace, the history of the Beauregard family (He was that bored). He putted the book on the small table in front of him before letting out a sigh. He looked above. A beautiful day, almost no cloud. He looked on the horizon only to see the grey wasteland his kingdom had become. Necromancy did that to thing, mess with the dead too much and death itself lingers around, in expectation for its next job. Nature was a collateral. He got up and walked to the balustrade to look down. After a few minutes, as the sun was becoming annoying, a group of 4 men in black robes left a tower more sinister than the others to walk through the gardens and toward the main building. They transported some moving table, and Gilbert already knew what was on it. Today was dissection day for the elf. Well, not a completely wasted day at least. Gilbert entered the building and began to climb down the stares. 

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The Operation room was a large white marble room which had probably been a ball or duel room before. On one side, windows closed shut and covered by heavy velvet curtains, on the other, a wall and up it on the second a balustrade lined with seats for an audience to watch, only interrupted by massive columns. A set of double doors opened, 2 men entered, pushing the table with a large white piece of cloth on it, a body being easily identifiable under it. Another 2 came with a smaller table scientific instruments of all kind, a great many knives and a surprising amount of jars filled with a yellowish paste on the plate under the chariot. They removed the cloth to expose the elf, naked and almost seeming alive, no wound, perfect preservation. They took the body and moved it to a sturdier metal table bolted in the ground in the middle of the room, lines were carved and the table was in a slight angle, a bucket under where the lines joined, to get the blood.

A fifth man entered the room, Gilbert with pants and a black shirt, the sleeves pulled back. The others removed their robes to show a similar fashion. "Alright men, no spectators today, most of the castle is in the forest hunting down our other test subject, probably failing at this too. Well we still have this one so let us not waste our chance shall we. Gloves." He raised his hands and two assistants putted a pair of leather gloves on him. As to not have the knife slips but also because it was terribly hard to get blood out from under nails. "Scribe, take notes."

One of the four men took a large book, a quill and a pot of ink, he opened it to one of the early page and awaited the words of Gilbert. "Necromantic Records of Gilbert de Beauregard, King and arch-necromancer of Lotharingia... I the my tomes about humanity have been completed for some times now and I do think the human body has revealed its secrets to me. Recently, an elf was captured by my minions and I have decided to vivisect it. Unfortunately, it killed itself out of fear of the procedure. I will now operate its dead body. As it was killed by poison, damages are minimal. Specimen is male, age unknown as little physical traits of elves change with age and on close inspection, the body is found to be quite... human-like, despite a more svelte and in general, the look of someone which is at the peak of physical condition. The hypothesis of half elves being possible seems indeed plausible, anatomically, but more on that later. I will first examine how similar or how different these creatures are from humans. The first thing I notice is the apparent lack of fat, if this is caused by starvation, constant physical efforts or that they simply do not have any like humans do, I will explore first by cutting and removing the skin before I move on to muscle structure, the study of which will no doubt allow for finer control of reanimated bodies. Scalpel."

Gilbert raised his hand and was handed a small knife and he began to first cut an opening from shoulder to shoulder, down the hips, and then one long in the middle. All in the room were concentrated on this task, observing, writing, cutting.