Fire blasted from Paul’s outstretched hand and struck the skeleton in the chest.  The explosive force knocked the skeleton down giving his party’s warrior enough time to crush its skull with his mace.  The warrior looked up to see if any of the skeletons remained.  One did, but the party’s cleric had easily dispatched it.  The cleric’s holy symbol kept the undead at bay long enough for her to destroy them easily.

                Paul looked around; the party had a pretty standard make up.  A warrior, a cleric, a rouge, who was standing off to the side, waiting for the others to destroy the enemy, and Paul, the wizard.  A party of four was routine enough.  He had accepted this mission from the adventurer’s guild board.  This group had been looking for a new wizard for an easy mission.  Apparently, their last wizard retired.

                It didn’t matter to Paul.  He was just looking for some quick and easy money.  His magical research had run out of money, now he was getting more.  The mission seemed simple enough, clear out some skeletons from a local crypt so the locals can continue to bury their dead without fear.

                So far, they hadn’t seen many skeletons.  The ones they did come across were weak.  It had been advertised as an easy mission, but Paul wondered why they bothered with it.  They could have let some low-level newbies handle this mission, while they took on a harder, and better paying, mission.

                Another skeleton walked around a corner.  The cleric raised her holy symbol, paralyzing the skeleton, while warrior smashed its head it with his mace.  The rouge, the only nonhuman in the group, was a small halfling, skittish enough it irked Paul a bit.  Even this single skeleton was enough to cause the halfling to jump and get clear of any potential fight.  Paul rolled his eyes as he stifled a yawn.

                The group continued to walk down the hallway.  So far there hadn’t been any splits in the hallway.  It had been a long hallway so far.  A couple of twists and turns, but nothing special.  Paul wondered why the village had been willing to pay so much to clear this place.  They clearly had no idea how much money this kind of mission should cost.

                This was going to be Paul’s only mission with this group.  He hadn’t even bothered to learn their names, what was the point?  Paul tried to keep down another yawn as the group continued to walk on.  There was another turn up ahead.  Skeletons had no sense of tactics, they just wandered about, or just stood there, so Paul wasn’t worried about an ambush.

                The rouge looked around a bit frightened.  Paul wanted to poke her in the back just to see her yelp, maybe even wet herself, but he didn’t.  He still needed these people in order to get paid for this job.

                Around the last corner was a door.  It did not look like anything special.  Probably wasn’t even locked, none the less the fighter asked the rouge to take a look.  “Can you check it for traps?”

                “Okay,” the rouge responded.  She crept forward as if the door was ready to jump out and attack her. 

Cautious group.  Paul wasn’t sure if he found it to be a good thing or not.  There was such a thing as too cautious and this group seemed to be it.  He would be happy to try his luck with a new group when this mission was over with.

The rouge did whatever it was that rouges do to doors and chests to check them for traps, then gave the group the okay to enter.  The door swung open easily and the fighter cautiously entered, shield up, the cleric followed, slowly, as well.  Paul entered last, with the rouge practically shaking in front of him.

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Inside the room was an ornately decorated alter and a man sitting in, what could only be described as a throne.  Slowly the man in the room lifted up his head and looked at the trespassers.  For the first time since entering the crypt, Paul froze.

The man at the other end of the room had on what was once the greatest fashions, but now were torn old and dirty.  In his hand was an old goblet that was made of gold with bright emeralds inlaid in it.  As he shifted his long black hair shifted out of the way of his glowing red eyes.

“Well, who do we have here?”  As he spoke his long fangs flashed clearly.  This man was clearly a vampire.

After a moment of stunned silence, Paul turned to flee, but the door slammed shut, locking them in the room.  Dread crept its way into his heart.  There was no way they were going to be able to defeat a vampire. 

“We are here to defeat the evil that permeates this place.”  The cleric declared.

For once the overly cautious group Paul came with didn’t understand the threat.  The barely seemed to even be phased by the vampire.  The rouge unslung his bow and drew an arrow as the cleric prepared their holy symbol and the fighter crept forward.

“Now is not the time for bravado.”  Paul hisses, “Help me get this door open.”

For a brief moment the rouge looks over, but it is the cleric who speaks again, “Now is not the time to lose faith, now we destroy the root of all this evil.”

“You should listen to your friend.”  The vampire smirks showing off his fangs with pride.

The cleric raised her raised her holy symbol and shouted.  “Back Demon!”

A bright light flared from the holy symbol.  The entire room became so bright Paul had to shield his eyes or go blind.  When the brightness was gone, he opened his eyes and to his despair, not only was the vampire unharmed, but his arm was impaling the cleric. 

“Bastard!”  The fighter growled as he lunged for the vampire. 

With speed Paul could barely comprehend the vampire threw the cleric’s body into the fighter and was already sinking his fangs into the rouges neck.  Barely able to move, Paul scanned the room for any other exits; there were none.

The vampire finished drinking the rouge dry quickly, getting more blood on himself and the floor than he drank.  His noble stride was evident as he walked.  With little effort he dragged the fighter out from under the cleric and held him aloft. 

“See, you should have listened to you friend.”  The grin never leaving the vampire’s face.

“Paul…  help…”  The fighter said weakly.

The vampire looked over at Paul and with a look of disinterest crushed the fighter’s neck. Slowly he turned his body towards Paul.  “Your turn, sweet thing.”

Out of sheer terror, Paul cast the fastest spell he knew, burning hands.  Before he knew it flames shot from his finger tips and pelted the vampire.  The vampire made a gruff noise as he shielded himself from the fire which lit his cloak aflame. 

While the vampire was distracted Paul began casting blazebane, a powerful fire spell designed to kill undead.  The resulting blast might hit him, but it was one of the most powerful spells he knew that he could cast fast enough to help.  Blazebane was a fire spell imbued with the very fire of the sun.

While the vampire patted out small embers on his cloak, Paul began casting as fast as he could.  Finally, the vampire looked back up at Paul with the same amused grin he had the entire battle.  Before the vampire could take another step, Paul cast his spell.

White jets of searing flame bust from Paul’s hands, streaking through the air at incredible speed striking the vampire in the chest.  As the flames made contact with the vampire he burst into a pillar of radiant light.  Blue and white flames fought for dominance in a bid for who would be able to kill the vampire the fastest. 

The smell of burning flesh filled the room as heat beats against Paul’s face.  Barely able to take his eyes off the spell, he was mesmerized by it.  Never having seen the spell actually used on a vampire, he didn’t know what it would look like in actual combat before he used it.

Slowly the fire began to die away.  Paul began to breath a sign of relief.  The spell was so efficient the vampire didn’t even have the time to scream.  Turning his attention back to the door, Paul gave it a good tug, wondering if he knew a spell to open the door.

“Well, that was unpleasant.”  A cool smooth voice uttered from behind him. 

Paul turned and standing there, slightly hunched, was the vampire.  Wisps of smoke rose from his now naked body.  Eyes wide Paul could only stare, once again, frozen in place.  The vampire walked slowly up to Paul and sank his teeth into his neck. 

The world went black.

“Go ahead and awaken my little spawn.”  Came the most soothing voice Paul had ever heard. 

Slowly he opened his eyes.  Still in the same room as before, Paul looked around.  The only thing different about the room, was that the fighter had no clothing on. 

“Over here.”

Paul looked towards the voice and there sat the vampire, in the fighter’s cloths.  He instantly knew that this man, this thing, had raised him from the dead.  Realization he was now a vampire made him swallow.

“Who are you?”  Paul managed.

“Alaric, the Undead King.”