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From WikiWatch

Musky oders of bodies. The ironlike smell of fresh blood. A tingle of salt in the air coming in from the docks. Looking at the corpse of the halfling, a sudden urge filled me. I walked over to the not to badly spoiled corpse and took out my knives. Softly the sharp edge of the tempered steel blade push in and through the soft skin of the halfling. "Lets see what is truely inside", I mumbled under my work. Awed at the parts, the colors, the logic, learning what to reach from where without opening up such a body. Visualizing the paths of knives, daggers, darts and arrows, Imagening the flow of poisons in his veigns, his heart fluttering, his breathing stopping.

After an hours work in the shady alleyway I became aware of motion behind me.

"Who is there?" I whispered, while turning around enveloping myself in the shadows of the alley.

I saw a shape of a woman, as she softly spoke. "Don't worry, little one. I won't do you no harm. But I do believe that is my property you're ... inspecting."

"What? How do you mean? He was dead!"

"Unfortunately he was. But that doesn't mean he isn't mine."

Standing there with a defiant smirk on my face, she suddenly mumbled words - if you could call them words. Her hands moved, and the disected body of the halfling began flowing together. The monstroues body, leaking fluids, flesh buldging out of the cut open or torn skin, walked towards me. Readying my knives I suddenly realized how stupid I was. I stepped aside and said: "Thats awesome milady! Are you a real necromancer?". And I didn't stop at that question. "Do you animate them much? Can you summon them from the earth? Do they think? Do they feel?"

"That is knowledge for me, but not for you" she answered me. "You have shown promise in you handling of the knife, the usage of the shadows to you advantage, the silence of you work. Come, lets have a drink in the inn and we can discuss some things."

Looking at her I thought she was pretty weird. But then again, I could always gut her if she turned out to be a backstabber. (Funny that, I think I was one before her, thinking back.) So we went for some bloodwine in the inn. Here she told me about necromancy, her lust for it. Telling me I had the ways of an assassin in me. "You're mad" I told her. On that response she got up and slapped me in the face.

"Behave you little brat! Do as you are told, and perhaps the hate may poison your knives and kill the enemy."

I realized she was right. Having a fetish in finding new quick but not painless methods of killing intrigued me. As much as she commanded the parts of dead people to listen to her, I could do just that in their last seconds of life. This was the biggest turn in my short life. She vouched for me and got me into training. It was hard, harder then most Norrathians will ever experience, even for a Teir'dal. But those are stories of other times. My trials, my exams, my dead teachers.

The ways of the assassin are now my ways. I'm ready to experience them in full blood and gore, swift kills, and deep wounds. Smears of blood and poison I will leave on the surface of Norrath and beyond.

Now do you want to play?