With a single swing, Kultra bashed through the rotting door of the dilapidated house. The smell assaulted him immediately. It was death. The odor of decomposing plants and animals was so thick that his nose hairs tingled. There was also the sickly sweet ceremonial incense that hung in the air. The combination of smells was nauseating.

Kultra squeezed himself into the single-room shack, bending his head so that his 6'7" frame could fit through the door. His wide shoulders got stuck against the door frame, but, with a quick jerk Kultra freed himself and removed a significant portion of the doorway's rotted trimming.

He stood just inside the doorway and looked around. The man was huge, with muscles bulging from every conceivable location on his body. Tight black pants and a black armless shirt accentuated his Herculean physique. In one huge hand he held a battle-axe, and in the other a large broadsword. The sword was actually a two-handed weapon, but when Kultra wielded it was more like a machete. The blades of both weapons dripped with a thick, green ichor. Slung across one shoulder was a single burlap sack with a frayed draw-string. The bag was empty. Kultra dropped it at the doorway and started to walk around.

Kultra stopped suddenly and winced in pain. His heart.

"Damn," he hissed between clenched teeth. He stood still and waited for the pain to pass. It took longer this time. He didn't have a lot of time left.

Kafa hadn't said anything about giant snakes with human heads. The damn thing had surprised him... sunk it's fangs into his leg, which had gone numb immediately. Kultra reacted with a powerful slash that opened up the thing's belly, but instead of dying, the beast simply vanished, depriving Kultra of the death-energy he needed to counteract the venom. The poison was still there, coursing through is veins. Slow-acting, but deadly. Kultra's broad, muscular chest felt as if it were on fire, and every few minutes a sharp stabbing pain would shoot through his heart. It felt as if he were being impaled on a rusty spike.

Kultra decided he would charge extra for that.

The huge human examined the room, wondering what else the necromancer had in store for him. There was smashed furniture everywhere, and a large pile of it had been pushed up against the far wall. There were no other rooms and no doors except for the one he had just smashed. Frustrated, he continued to search. His information had been good up until this point... the cemetery... the shack... but where was the necromancer? This one-room shack was completely devoid of anything remotely alive or threatening. One room? Kultra's eyes returned to the pile of furniture. There was more furniture here than would comfortably fit into this one room. And there was absolutely no reason for it to be piled up against the wall like that.

Kultra sighed and dropped his weapons. He paused for a second, waiting for a possible ambush. He listened. Nothing. Then he walked over to far wall and began to remove the furniture barricade. Tables and chairs of all sizes and shapes were sent flying as Kultra hefted armsfull of the rotting debris and tossed it out through the smashed doorway. Twice, Kultra had to stop as pain shot through his chest.

Several poisonous snakes slithered out of the pile, but these were small enough for Kultra to stomp to death beneath his boot.

Eventually he uncovered another door. Closed and locked. He picked up his battle-axe and chopped his way through the wood, revealing a short hallway that ended at a set of steps leading down. A flickering red light carried up from the catacombs. The smell of death and incense was definitely stronger. Weapons in hand, Kultra started down the steps.

He made no attempt to conceal his motions. Kafa, the man that had hired him, had said that stealth would be useless. So far, he was right. The necromancer had been after him from the second he set foot in the old cemetery. Zombies...snakes...those other things... Kultra shivered. No, the direct and forceful approach was much better. At least this way he could deal with the obstacles quickly and get on with the kill.

Kultra reached the bottom of the steps and found himself in a large open room that appeared to be carved out of solid rock. Candles on tall stands burned with a unnaturally red flame. There were several dead bodies strewn about. Mostly women. All had been cut open and had had one or more major organs removed. On the floor in the center of the room was a giant rune...

It was an oddly shaped pentagram the likes of which Kultra had never seen before. Sitting in the exact middle of the pentagram was a man. He had his back to Kultra, but it was obvious that he was unarmed and naked except for a small loincloth.

"Welcome to my abode," said the man. His voice was rough and inhuman. "Forgive de mess..." a bony arm swept out in the general direction of the bodies. "Dere was no time to clean."

"You know why I'm here..." pain shot through Kultra, radiating from his chest and outward into his entire body. At first he though that a spell had be cast against him, but it was merely the poison. Kultra hesitated a few seconds, but the pain did not dissipate. It got worse. His time was almost up. Kultra forced the pain out of his mind.

"Stand and face me, N'Doki. Or shall I kill you from behind?"

"Dere is no honor in killing a man from behind."

"So? What's your point?"

The man stood.

He was almost as tall as Kultra, but whereas Kultra's huge frame was the embodiment of power, the necromancer was thin and frail. He looked as if he had no muscle in his body whatsoever, just bones and skin. N'Doki's skin was dark tan, though the red candles gave everything a reddish tint. The necromancer smiled at Kultra, revealing a perfect set of white teeth, like tiny tiles set into his blackened gums.

Kultra frowned. "What the Hell are... ARRRGH!!" Only Kultra's intense concentration prevented him from falling to his knees. The pain was too much. He was beginning to get dizzy. He would have to strike now before he was too weak to counter any final defenses the necromancer had.

Kultra dropped his battle-axe and gripped the longsword in two hands. He rushed forward. N'Doki simply stood and watched with a smile on his face. He made no attempt to run, or defend himself physically or with magic. Kultra saw this and his poisoned heart sank.

He's not doing anything! Something's not right here!

Kultra half expected the pentagram to flare up and block his path as he stepped across the lines. It wouldn't have stopped him since Kultra was wearing his 'pass barrier' ring, but nothing happened. Kultra entered the pentagram without resistance.

Why isn't he defending himself? thought Kultra in the seconds before he reached N'Doki.

Maybe the man before him was not actually there. Perhaps it was a zombie... or an illusion. No matter... If there was ANYTHING standing at the center of the pentagram, it was about to die...

With a cry that was more a yelp of pain than a battle-cry, Kultra sank his broadsword deep into N'Doki's chest. He rejoiced as he felt the resistance of solid flesh against the blade; the man had been no illusion. A putrid black ichor spilled from the wound. The black blood flowed for several seconds before it turned brown, and then red. N'Doki coughed and grunted, and then breathed his last foul breath into Kultra's face.

Kultra was doubled over with pain; he could barely maintain his grasp on the sword. The poison was killing him... It felt as if giant fishhooks had been pierced his body and were slowly pulling him apart. But there was also something else... Power.

As N'Doki's twisted soul left his equally twisted body, power began to flow into Kultra. The energy felt like ice-water coursing through his veins. The assassin smiled, despite the pain. There was a significant amount of energy tied up in the bond between a soul and it's body, and when that body dies and the soul departs, that energy is released. Kultra could absorb that energy. It was a gift he had been born with, and it had saved his life more times than he could count.

Kultra accepted the power into himself even as his own life was drawing to a close. The poison was too strong. This body was finished... he needed a new one. Kultra closed his eyes and concentrated, and soon his tortured flesh began to bubble and transform. His huge body began to deflate like a bladder being emptied. Sturdy bones began to thin and shorten. Muscles throbbed and shrank to less than half their original size. His skin grew loose and hung off of him like an oversized shirt, and then it drew tight against a much smaller frame. Dusty blond hair turned jet black, a mustache and goatee sprouted around his mouth and chin.

The last effects of the transformation passed. Kultra stood, drawing himself up to his full 5'11" height. His muscles were still well defined, but they were significantly smaller than they had been before. His pants and shirt still fit perfectly, though. Thanks to the amulet he wore around his neck, his clothes always fit when he transformed. Well...usually. His weapons were another matter. He had resumed his 'normal' form, and was far too weak to wield both the battle-axe and the broadsword. He placed his boot on N'Doki's shoulder and pulled the sword out of the dead man's chest.

"This'll have to do." he said to the empty room. He hated to leave the battle-axe, but carrying it would be too much of a burden. It was a LARGE axe, and Kultra was now a much smaller man. Besides, he wouldn't need both weapons. The necromancer was dead, and his remaining defenses would be inactive. He'd just need something to deal with the occasional cemetery rat or corpse-eating ghoul. They wouldn't prove to be much of a threat.

Now, to finish the job Kafa would probably need proof of the necromancer's death. He hadn't mentioned it, but it was always good practice to bring something back.

Remembering that his head-bag was still upstairs, Kultra turned and walked toward the stone room's only exit. He had just placed his foot on the first step when he heard a voice behind him.

"You are supposed to be dead, assassin." The sound was like small rocks being smashed together.

Kultra spun. N'Doki stood within the pentagram, smiling. He was very much alive.

He was taller than he had been before, and thinner. His skin was a good two or three shades darker, and it had taken on a tough, leathery appearance. Kultra saw that the man's perfect teeth had all been filed down into sharp needle-like fangs. The fatal wound that Kultra had given him was completely gone.

Kultra gaped.

"Your look has changed," said N'Doki, "but I recognize your soul. I don' know how you survived de poison but 'tis a good ting I return before you chop off my head, no?"

"You- You're dead. I felt you die! I absorbed your-"

"And a most excellent det it was, assassin. I t'ank you!" N'Doki bowed deeply. Kultra half expected the man's thin frame to break in half at the waist. It didn't.

"I killed you! You were dead!"

"Indeed I was. I haf traveled to de underworld and returned, and I haf brought much power back wit' me. It is as I haf done many times before and will do many times again. Now dere is only de matter of your payment... true to my word, I shall give you de gold dat I promised. Shall I send de money to your family? A Grieving widow, perhaps?"

"What?"

"Don' tell me dat de skillful assassin no figure it out yet. Let N'Doki show you..."

N'Doki made a grand sweeping motion with his boney arms, and in the blink of an eye, a tall robed figure occupied the space where the frail necromancer once stood. It was Kafa.

"You hired me to kill YOU!"

The illusion vanished and N'Doki returned. The necromancer threw back his head and laughed.

Kultra hated surprises, and he absolutely loathed being laughed at.

"Well, if it's death you want you're about to get a heaping plate of it!" Kultra raised his sword and charged at the man. This time, N'Doki reacted. He raised his hand and made a strange twisting motion with his clawed fingers.

Kultra was stopped dead in his tracks as some force grabbed him. He could feel a half-dozen hands grasping at his arms and legs, holding him in place. He fought against the invisible creatures, but he doubted that he could break free even if he was still in his previous form. They were much too strong. Kultra continued to struggle, but it was like trying to fight the wind. Suddenly he was pulled into the air and his sword was yanked from his powerful grip. It clattered loudly on the stone floor.

"Now," said N'Doki, "What shall I haf de spirits do wit you? Shall I haf dem tear you apart to see how you survived de poison? No, no time for dat... I am needed in Montfort very soon. I shall haf dem take you to a place... Ahhhh.... a wonderful place... perhaps you haf an adventure or two before you die screaming..."

N'Doki made another gesture, and Kultra felt himself being jerked downward and then sharply upward as the spirit-creatures carried him up the steps and out of the old shack. He looked down and saw the cemetery far below him. The spirits moved faster and faster, spinning him around in every direction. Soon Kultra was dizzy. He had no idea where they were taking him; the landscape was a gray blur far below his feet. He flew faster still... spinning.... which direction was he going?... north...south...west...south again... so dizzy... up... down?....north...east...

Kultra finally lost consciousness, the last sound he heard was the wind whipping past his ears, although he swore he could still detect N'Doki's sinister laugh from deep in the catacombs beneath the cemetery.

[The End?!?]