Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

The living maelstrom of raw doom known as the Wyyvern of Apocalypse was thrown to the ground, and its captor kicked it over to the Nekolich. Stu watched as the ancient calamity slid to his feet chained by the Wyyvern Incense Burners of Famine which were held in place by the twin Wyyvern Swords of War. Then he looked up at its captor who held the Wyyvern Scythe of Death. The Wyyvern Artillery of Strife was as a jetpack with majestic mechanical wings that held the Apocalypse Wyyvern’s captor aloft. The Western/Northlandish Halfbreed Fennec Fox had taken the Four Horsemen all on his own, he could have even done it without Deceit’s help. Then he used them to hunt and capture the Wyyvern of Apocalypse. It was impressive and brought a smile to the Nekolich’s face.

“Make me like my Brother,” Aleister Dimir demanded.

“Do you know what I had to do to Edward and Zesrial in order to forge them into the Knights and the Weapons of Wyyvern that they are now?” Stu asked.

“No,” Aleister replied. “My weapon’s are not even sure.” Suddenly Magnus fell off his back, and he fell to the ground with him. Then Hubris’s Chains broke, and his Incense Burners went out. Then Sun and Tzu, who had held Hubris’s Chains in place, shattered and Chastity left Aleister and came to the Nekolich.

Aleister fell to his knees and looked to the Nekolich who had his Scythe’s blade to his throat. “All of you will need to be reforged,” Stu said as he put an end Aleister Dimir and the Four Horsemen. “Worry not,” he said as he examined Aleister’s corpse and began planning the Necrotic Rituals he would perform on it ahead of time. “You shall arise more powerful than any before you,” he lifted Aleister’s corpse upon his shoulders and turned to a direction where a tear in the fabric of reality appeared. “Travvurse!”

A few moments passed, and then an odd grey gelatinous blob came floating into the realm from the void. “What is it this time, Stuart,” the mass of resurrected Greymatter asked his creator with a proud and scholarly attitude.

“You know I hate it when you call me that,” said Stu as he picked the Wyyvern of Apocalypse up by its jaw and began to drag it through the portal. “Grab those weapons, you and I have much work to do.”

Travvurse looked at the now dead Wyyvern Weapon’s lying on the ground before him, “the Four Horsemen? What are you planning, Nekolich?”

“The Fates, Travvurse,” Stu replied. “The Fates.”

*          *

The Elven bartender began freaking out, “That… that was… that was the… the… the…”

“My apologies if I scared you, Miss,” Stu said as he reappeared at the Voodoo Ward Inn in Aroamourne. “Please be assured that you have nothing to fear from me,” Stu smiled before turning to Michael. “Michael of the Dead, right?” Stu’s expression had changed to one of seriousness and a raised eyebrow. “You’re a little slow on the draw there, Necromancer. No one here should have died this night.”

“It is not my responsibility to protect the living, it is yours. Or do the Elven people believe in a lie?” Michael questioned.

“Actually my job, among other things, is to watch over and maintain this multiverse’s defenses of which Necromancers are included which would make protecting the living your responsibility,” Stu began. “The Dead. My Dead, have taken a liking to you and will do as you command. I have no quarrel with this, I simply require your services in protecting this Realm and all worlds in it as payment for utilizing my Dead.” Stu continued his spoken words, “You have the ability to raise any Dead completely back to Life within twenty-four hours of the time of Death. Use it.” Stu turned to the Elven woman behind the counter, “Forgive me, I know not those who still yet live. What is your name, that I may know it?”

“Harrissa, my Lord,” the Elven woman replied.

“Please, there is no need for such formalities,” Stu chuckled in reply. “Call me Stu,” he smiled at her. “I have work for you as well should you accept it.”

Harrissa snapped to attention and bowed to the god of her people, “You protect us all from things we cannot hope to defend against or even comprehend. Through this life and the next, I am yours, 999… I mean, Stu,” she smiled. “I would be honored to work for you.”

Stu had never heard of such devotion from any Living before, he had no idea that any Living knew of his existence at all. Her words nearly brought tears to his pupilless eyes, for he loved the Living. They were precious to him because he could never be them. He had thrown away his right to live long ago. “Very well, Harrissa. You shall be this Realm’s Soothslayer and aid Michael in protecting this world and all others within this Realm. You shall also work closely with any Wyyvern Knights or Agents that are sent here.” Stu sighed, “This also means you would become immortal and never be able to join me among the Dead until the end of this multiverse. Do you accept these terms, Harrissa?”

Harrissa thought for a second, she would never be able to join Stu in eternal rest, but she would be able to follow and serve him until the end. “I do,” she replied.

“Good, then it is done,” Stu said as he directed his attention to both of them. “I am sending one of my Wyyvern Knights here to deal with your Warpriest problem. He will arrive, as always, right on time. You both have plenty of work to do until then, get to it.”

Harrissa soluted Stu as he left the Realm, then she got really excited, “We just landed the coolest jobs!” she screeched.

Michael could hear the voices of the Dead. The voices of the only family he had ever truly known, call to him saying, “make us a wall for all living to hide behind for the Devourer of Life can only be held back by the Dead so the Dead must defend the Living from it.” The Dead repeated this over and over again to Michael and only Michael for they trusted him and cared for him. Now it was his turn to trust and to care.

Michael sighed, “I suppose there is no running from it now, I am a Necromancer after all.” He had never felt pride for what he was until then. It felt good. “You know your village, Harrissa. Help me prepare a defense for her.” The two set to work with the faith that a Knight would come to help them, as was promised.

*          *

“Alright, where were we?” Stu asked as he entered the Forge held within one of the three circles of Hell that do not exist.

“All subjects are on their operating tables, your texts are out and organized, and my scientific equipment is charged and fully operational,” Travvurse replied.

“Sorry I had to step out for a moment,” said Stu as he picked up the journal containing his notes from his forging of the Four Horsemen into Wyyvern Weapons. Frozen and Ash, the twin chained Daggers of Hell, were his first. However, he perfected the art of Wyyvern Forging with the Horsemen.

“As usual, I must do the bulk of the work,” Travvurse commented with his usual proud scholarly attitude.

“Set up and clean up are hardly the bulk of the work here,” Stu replied. The two were always at each other’s throats, but they liked it that way. Stu knew all there was to know about Necromancy and her Rituals while Travvurse knew all science behind bringing the Dead back to Life and was even able to create new life from the Dead using science.

Travvurse hovered about the forge in his operating suit which was a floating saucer that had several arms with hands designed for precision and a glass bubble for him to sit within. He adjusted dials, took measurements, recorded data, and applied his algorithm for resurrection. “I will begin work on Magnus’s, Sun’s, and Tzu’s modifications. We must have all seven subjects synchronized within the next twenty-two hours, or the operation will fail.

Stu did not need Travvurse’s help to do any of this, he just enjoyed the company. “Alright Aleister, time to forge you, the Four Horsemen, and the Wyyvern of Apocalypse together,” Stu said as he unsheathed one of his 9-inch retractable dagger-like claws. It had Necromantic symbols carved through it that glowed with Stu’s emerald green Willpower as he made the first of many incisions into Aleister’s corpse.