([color=8882be]Dominus[/color], Streets of Artis Port, Praelium)

[color=8882be][i]Shit. Necromancers.[/i][/color]

Necromancers in the House of Dominus were feared and secluded due the the nature of their field of magic. It didn't matter to most that they were still a part of the house, creating thrall from the former living was just... unsettling. Even for the great mages of Dominus. The Dominus mage's heart instinctively began to speed up, the sight of all the undead causing them to be set at further unease. With a deep breath and a little magic, they calmed themselves and prepared to speak again.

[color=8882be]"It's... it's yours?"[/color] The Dominus mage said, more confused now than frightened as they were before. [color=8882be]"Like I said, sorry about the desecration, it was merely a catalyst for my anger. I assume you're going to raise our friend here? May I be as bold to ask why?"[/color]

Their gaze returned to the corpse of the rogue mage. Whatever pain the Dominus mage had inflicted upon Darlien would feel like a simple tap on the wrist to the torture he was about to receive. They had been told necromancy was a painful process for the subjects being resurrected, the tearing from their soul from their body and binding themselves to the will of the necromancer. They felt bad for just a second, but the feeling fleeted as they recalled the pure ass-etry that was Darlien.