[ WP ] At the age of 16 , everyone is told their RPG class , a cleric is hopelessly in love with a necromancer

Her cool, magic filled hands caressed his strong figure as the two mages ducked into a hidden closet. Twin figures, one a radiant figure of healing energy, the other a pale reflection of silvery death, entwined and poured their hearts out to each other. Once the passions of both had been sated, Narcissa turned to her lover and said 
 `` Dearest Tristan, what of your father? Surely a High Warlock does not want his son `` involved'' with someone like me, and certainly not with a Morningstar!'' 
 `` Beloved Narcissa, it is the very arrogance and power lust my father extols as virtuous that drives me into your arms. His mad wars against your family and their allies have proven to me the futility of his methods. 20 years and not a single inch of land we fight for has been won. So yes, indeed do a edge myself to turn my magic against his forces and to end the cycle of bloodshed!'' 
 The scrap of a door down the hall sends the two lovers into a frenzy of motion, as robes are pulled on, hair is bunned, and enchanted arms and armor strapped tight. On baited breath the Coue waits as the *click* of designer shoes carries Madame Collette past their hiding place, and once the overbearing witch had gone, they slipped out into the corridor. With longing gazes, they parted, Narcissa to the Morningstar Necromancy Wing, Tristan to the Clerical Paladin Barracks, of the Pigfreckles School of Spellcraft and Sorcery.
