Araghol the Necromancer

Araghol watched the scene play out before him. For a moment it seemed that the woman Caligari would challenge his power but then the fool half elf gave him an opening to change the flow of events. It mattered not that his enchantment had been thwarted, it had served to distract the dark witch for the briefest of moments and that was all he needed to bolster his own defenses.

Tearing the jagged blades of the woman Amdir from his sides he allowed his own blood to flow imbued with his own cursed magics. The game had been amusing but it was time to bring it to an end. After all his mistress was expecting them.

ENOUGH!

His voice echoed around the chamber. His undead minions froze in mid-battle and with a wave of his hand they fell to the ground lifeless and cold. He threw off his own magical cloaks though keeping the potency of his defenses ever ready and there he stood before them. His dark elf feature clear for all to see. He smiled and spoke now in a voice more befitting his mortal frame,

"My patience grows thin. If you wish to gain passage to the gates of my mistress I suggest you stand down and bring forth the agreed sacrifice."