Noir Badarte is a necromancer with a heart of gold- and he finds himself in Portland Oregon, to find a new serial killer called the Wolf- but Portland's own insane undead have plans of their own for him.
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The necromancer didn't notice when din grew silent. Just that everything had stopped, interrupted by a pair of footsteps. Noir opened his eyes, grease, blood and tears dripping from him. The undead took angry steps back.
An old man stood in the doors opposite Black Anna's dais. He leaned heavily on a cane. One-armed, the man looked like he'd seen better days. It reminded Noir of his father and the other ranchers he'd known growing up in Idaho. Dusty, wrinkled and tough.
"Black Anna, I invoke the Old Right." Noir blinked in surprise at the sound of the old man's voice. It sounded spry, youthful. Confident.
Still unable to see her, Noir heard Anna's reply. "I respect the old ways, old man. Is there a name to go along with your request?"
Chuckles came from the assemblage of undead monsters.
"I, Tyr, swear not to cause any harm as a guest, unless attacked or deemed necessary by you, my host. I will leave once my business here is concluded."
Black Anna chuckled. "Fine. Tyr is it?"
"That is what they call me." Tyr walked briskly toward Noir. His cane thudded on the ground hard with each step he took. "I will take back the necromancer. That is the offer I bring."
"Necromancer?" Black Anna laughed. Noir heard something sharp land near him. Black Anna stood on top of the kennel, crouched over him. "I have a new one for me and mine. You offer to take what I own?"
Tyr shrugged. "I am just a messenger. You can give him back to me, or face the consequences."
"Consequences from whom?" Black Anna asked. "Portland is my town. Who dares question me?"
Undead cowed, hissing in agreement. Clearly, they all were agreed on her statement. Noir shivered. He could sense the chains that extended from her body to all these undead.
Before he hadn't sensed it. But now seeing the ghosts in this place, Noir could see the hundreds of chains. Each undead was collared, tagged and chained to her. Leashed to the dark spirit in Black Anna. More undead were chained to them, but she was their nexus. A dark star of necrokinetic energy, a maddening night sun.
Tyr didn't seem fazed by any of this. "Noir Badarte is to be returned. I am not questioning you or insulting you. The one who sent me made me promise to offer to take him. Give him over, and no more trouble will happen. The slights you've given will be ignored. He will focus on other problems, like he has in the past."
"Oh really? THAT is who you come to represent here?" Black Anna giggled. "A pup thinks he can howl like a grown wolf?"
Tyr frowned. "You don't want to pay the price of him having to come here, Black Anna. I've heard the rumors. You act mad, insane. But you can think. You aren't completely illogical."
Black Anna tilted her head. "But I have to give my new pet up? I just started getting him house-trained, Tyr. You know how hard it is to give them up after you start house training them?"
Tyr shook his head. "Fine. My part is done. I assume you will not give him up?"
Black Anna nodded. She dribbled black ichor from her smile. She started to lick at the gore soaking the outside of the kennel. Noir shivered.
"I might finish him off now." Black Anna giggled. "Or cut him up into tiny little pieces."
"Alive or dead, there is a price to pay." Tyr told her. "He... he doesn't forgive, Anna. He can forget what you've tried to do in his name. But-"
"Your business is done now, Tyr." Black Anna pointed at the door. "Your allegiance to the Old Rights is done. Don't presume to tell me what to do."
Tyr shook his head, turned and started to walk away.
"Tell the Wolf I'll hold a gala in his name!" Black Anna shouted at Tyr as he left. Tyr didn't look back. "C'mon, Tyr! Who's afraid of the big bad wolf anymore? Who?"