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Calcereous was hearily relieved that his bluff against the powerful mage had worked. It wasn't so much, that he'd forgotten about the geas inflicted upon him as it was he'd hoped Renaud had forgotten. And though the money was rightfully his master's, it hurt nonetheless to relinquish it.

"At least most of it was Traldar's," he thought benignly. He never had returned the tiefling's belongings to him, not wishing to alert him to the fact, that the gnome now possessed a magical bag once belonging to that hellspawned rogue. Instead, he'd managed to sell most of the items for a tidy profit (a tidy profit being easy to make when the items cost you nothing in the first place). However, that money now rested safely in Renaud's pocket, a pocket he dare not try to pick.

Looking back into that leering face, his eyes still vacant due to the aesthetic properties of one of the creations he'd just been taxed for, thoughts of betrayal flitted through his mind. One day this tower would be his, he knew. He had just to wait until Renaud had outlived his usefulness and then to correct that situation.

Hastilly, he emptied his mind. As it was, Renaud was still the more powerful mage. All the diminutive necromancer needed was for him to be using a mind-reading spell at the moment.

Quote:

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"I have an errand for you to run. While you were... 'out', someone has been, ah, disturbing my undead. Or, more properly, putting them to rest. I haven't been able to harvest a proper ghoul bone for days. I want you to go to the Graveyard District and find out who or what has been disrupting my recent shopping trips and put a stop to it. Oh, and leave the tiefling out of it for once; I want to see what you can do when you don't have a planeborn watching your back."

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Calcereous remembered well the last time he'd been sent into the graveyard district by Renaud. He'd ended up defeating a vampiric doppelganger. He looked across to the staff Renaud kept often by him; the essence of that monster resided within those bone joints. What new menace would Calcereous face in the graveyard this go around?

As much as it chargrinned the gnome to flit through the city as a shopping boy, if there were in fact something or someone putting the dead to rest, it would behoove Calcereous as well to put a stop to it.

"Clerics!" he cursed randomly. It was the first assumption to pop into his quick-thinking mind. The only cleric he'd begrudgingly worked with in the past had been one by the name of Geon Gervais; the last they'd met, Calcereous had been part of his slaying as well. He'd become a dread knight with eyes empowered of death. Calcereous had kept that head as a souvenir thinking the innate magic might last. It hadn't, and Calcereous had thrown it against a wall in the tower in frustration. He couldn't remember if he'd ever picked it back up. He chuckled stupidly at the thought of it rotting, stinking up some room in Renaud's tower.

The master's comment about Traldar sobered him up. "I need no one watching my back. The tiefling was a convenience and nothing more." He glowered at the thought of Renaud thinking him inept. He allowed his eyes to return to normal if only to let Renaud witness the enmity he felt at that comment. With nary another word, he ran from the tower Nisha hovering swiftly behind him. His pace was a trite faster than you'd expect in a 3' being. It was a good thing Renaud wasn't levying a tax on him for items found as well as made.

Heading towards the familiar Graveyard District, Calcereous decided he'd head for the hole he'd last left the undead gravedigger at. He was curious as to how deep a hole the mindless worker had dug.

(( I was actually just playing him as level 6. The level 7 came about, because I thought the level cross-over was at a lower XP amount, and I didn't have a save of the level 6 version. So, I hadn't summoned the shadow, and I was playing as if I hadn't gained the animate dead ability, yet. ))

ic: Calcereous was a bit confused by the antics of the unresponsive zombie. He'd tried everything he could think of to stop Mort from digging at that first grave... even to the extent of forcing the gravedigger to bury himself with his efforts... all to no avail. It seemed the neww incarnation of Mort was content to mind-numbingly fulfill the duty he'd had in life. It was philosophical if one chose to think about it. Calcereous didn't.

Instead, he decided to take perhaps the second-most intriguing entry for his Diary of the Last Thought. The first being, of course, the witness of a powerful and dangerous diety. The necromantic gnome had previously been privvy to the exact reanimation of Mort's death as a ghastly echo of his demise repeated itself. Now, he figured he'd have the last thoughts of the worker, thoughts engendered with death a complete surprise.

Eagerly, he removed the circlet from his satchel and placed it upon his head.

(( Fair enough. But now he knows it in character instead of it just being a spoiler. ))

ic: Calcereous found the dwarf's final history quite intriguing. It was by all accounts, one of the more fascinating journeys into undeath he'd ever been aware of. However, he found it a cheat that the undead should be the one caring for deceased. What respect could a zombie ever show for a corpse.

He would have to put an end to that. At least it would annoy those using Mort as free labor. That fact put a wide smile on the gnome's face.

Rummaging through his backpack, he pulled out a sheaf of paper and unrolled it. Glancing at it momentarily, he recited the words thereupon.

"Corpus interruptus," he said mirthfully.

(( casting Disrupt Undead ))