Everything according to plan

Clad in the silver, black and violet robes the necromancer stood smiling his wicked smile on the balcony, Valerion was watching the busy men and women below him, doing their hard days work...he threw a hand full of platinum coins down into the streets, and watched a few Ruffians brawl for it.
"Like puppets on strings...so easily...", the last days have really been very promising...the friendship with Morrow, his newborn alliances, the message, and soon his return to his former Academy, maybe to take place as a tutor or take the path of "dead mens pointy shoes"
Yes indeed, the shipments came in, the material he needed was there, his old equipment ready...soon enough he would let a guild rise, a formidable guild, with duty to support newcomers, and the weak, to support those who seek knowledge and arcane power...under his supervision, of course.
Yes, he may not be so mighty, not yet...but that would change, and he would push his art of necromancy further to learn more, gain might, and to build a reputation...and an organization, and become the most respected or feared or both....magician known in Dohral and around.
With a slight smile on his pale face he turns to the panther laying on the ground and fondles it behind its ears.
"Soon Gree, we will be home again......and our associates...will have their possibility to repay their debts, everything, is running according to plan...well then...and maybe we should find out who that family is we found a sigil ring of recently..."

*A broad and kinda unsettling smile, paired with a piercing gaze look after the dark clad warrior, an armor and a weapon of finest work were sold, and the man was now in debts...to himself, Valerion. This buisness really prooved well, the most take the debt, and those unwilling to pay the favor they are called for...well...they pay in other ways....but none have yet denied payment.
"Well...if this was no efficient day" the grin becomes even brighter as he counts the wares, knowing after a few weeks his delivery would be made, and his new alliance will grow tighter, and their loyalty would be worth a lot....due to the fact that faction was strong.
"Tomorrow is a new day, let us find a fine bed for us to sleep...come Gree!" *He turns to call the panther that slenders to his side, surrounded by an orb of invisibility towards the entry of the Inn...

*His gaze wanders over the trees, the hills, the road as he stands in the pentagram, he watches the Golems stand  with a stare as dead as that of his undead minions looking towards the horizon and the entrances to the land around his tower, he sees a glimpse of White or Black, Fur and sometimes even eyes as Werewolves run between the trees. Wondering if his old friend was still alive, or already dead, he had not seen him in decades, and the contact with the werewolves grew thin, so far they seem to stand true to their bargain, but will they do so if the Tower is truly attacked?*


"Archmage, Master, Lord...you know how many titles I have? What I have done over the century that I live, good and bad? The greatest enchanter, the strongest magician, the most influencial Lord, the most powerful human in the silver tradeway... ties to lords, beings, the dragon, the raksashas, the Lich, the Vampire Queen, the thieves guild...great gods...even the Lord of Dohral is but a Puppet to mine eyes."

*He chuckles softly as he looks over the tower, the tower he has not yet entirely explored, the tower that still escapes himself with some of it's secrets.*

"People curse when they speak my name, people frown or shiver when I raise my voice, others bow in reverence or stare in awe...it means nothing to me"

*He drives his fingertips over the stone of the battlements, drawing circles and symbols*

"Yet I have achieved all I have set out for...being the most powerful being in the realm, maybe even beyond, I have escaped the abyss when I was enslaved by demons, I took my revenge on the one who imprisoned me, I have become a Lord to one of the most interesting islands, ridden with monsters more than the realm is ridden with humans, dwarves, elves or others, my magical powers and my knowledge of secrets are unmatched, my Enclaves watches over the realm from the shadows, keeping it as secure as we can...against the bigger threats..."

*He drives another outline into the dust of the battlement, a face*

"And here I am, still searching for more..."

*His hands slowly raise to his masked face, taking it off and letting it fall to the ground into the ritual container, sliding off one his rings in fluid, but slow motion they too fall into the container...followed by his cloak, his bracers, his robe, even the boots, a skeleton raises it's hands to hand him a simple, black and purple robe, plain, the robe of an apprentice, with one final, dismissive wave, the skeleton turns to dust, the soul freed to return from whence it came.

Now, standing there, he stares at the simple silver band around his right ringfinger, smiling weakly before sliding it off his hand letting it drop into the container, which, with a short flash of...darkness or some sort of effect that escapes the human eye, disappears.

Valerions hands rise in front of his eyes covering them as he slumps down, leaning against the pylon of his tower, as he starts sobbing like a small, frail child...

"I miss you father"