Necronomical

[Alessar]

**Has nothing to do with the Evil Dead At all!

Malcolm took a short breath and shook the blood off of his bone spear. Ever since he found that cursed book it brought nothing but misery. He became the biggest prey around for every necromancer, zealot or...anyone really. Thousands of secrets. Forbiden and well known rested on the pages of that book. He himself was one of those. He has been a Bone Lord as long as he could remember. Never once he questioned it untill now.

Now that his armor begun to develope a personality of his own. It talked to him, it mocked him. He hated that.

He let his spear collapse behind his back and looked around. There was no one else standing. The Black Seers were dead. Malcolm armor ached and so did his body. He put his claw into a small bag which was strapped to his back. The Book was still there. Still safe.

He sighed and continued forward. Towards the mountains. Hoping that there he could find someone who would agree to help him.

Here in Deadlands he was seen as a joke by some. Only seven feet tall with his armor he was one of the smallest Bone Lords around. But it did not matter to him. It was not the strenght but the skill he relied on the most. Brute force never was his favorite. Malcolm's skill with his Bone Lance and The Rib Blade was exceptional. Those who saw it in action upclose never lived to tell about it.

He glanced back. On the horizon he could see a small cloud of dust. Probably the Death Knights. At this rate he would have another battle before the sun is set. Malcolm looked forward. A small ridge of cliffs lay ahead.

*I must get to it before the catch up. They are useless in the space that small.* he thought and quickened his pace.

His body demanded rest but he knew there would be no rest found untill the Necronomical is banished from this world.