Death – The Dark Art of Necromancy [Part I]

She jumped back, startled at the loud crashing sound that revibirated through the alley. Ruined buildings loomed over her casting strange shadows on the moonlit ground and the steadily growing breeze added to her uneasiness.

She could sense the presence of many Dead in the area. It attacked her senses and caused a sinking feeling in the bottom of her stomach.

The woman was fairly young, she was in her teens or middle twenties. Her pale skin showed brightly against her black cloth tunic and leggings. She travelled in a leather cape that was pulled tightly around her body to protect against the chilling breeze. The exposed part of her long brown hair fluttered behind her in the night’s breeze brought in from the nearby ocean.

Another crashing sound caused her to move her hand to the hilt of her shortsword. She stopped, and turned to see if she could make out a shape behind her. She sensed the Dead more strongly than before now and her stomach twinged slightly. Her nose picked an acrid smell and she whirrled around only to come face to face with a decaying skull. She let out a yelp of surprise and tried to draw her sword. However, the dead thing had the advantage of surprise and knocked her over backwards with a swipe of its decaying hand.

She shot up and turned to make an escape only to come face to face with a similiar looking corpse.

Thinking quickly, she mumbled a spell of binding and adhered one of the Dead to the ground. She spun around and cleaved through the rotting skull of the other. It staggered and tripped over its own feet. It made an attempt to stumble back to its feet, but the girl had already begun to cast a spell of fire. The Dead let out a distorted yell before its borrowed body was reduced to mere ashes that were discarded upon the night time breeze.

She felt a dull thud against her back and she crumpled to the ground. The corpse was leering over her showing its unhuman fangs, getting ready to finish his seemingly helpless prey. It dropped to it’s knees and the bone clacked against the cobblestone road. It moved its fanged face over her stunned throat and let his teeth sink into her tender flesh.

When its fangs had reached halfway into the delicate flesh of her neck, the head was detached from the body by a slicing blade. The headless body writhed on the ground and another man was stading over it. He wore a dark purple cloak with the Necromantic Crest of Lymarak, a brotherhood of aspiring Necromancers. The Crest resembled what once was a human hand with green glow surrounding it.

“Dead. What has come of this town?” The Necromancer asked almost casually. “I do not know. I was coming home to see my parents while I’m on vacation.” The Necromancer nodded and waved his hands. The body combusted in a white flame and disappeared without a trace of ash.

“I sensed you would be here. We are not safe here, we must go now.” said the Necromancer. “But, what of my family? We cannot just leave them here to these.. these.. things!” the Necromancer let out a sigh of impatience, “If we do not leave now your parents will not be the only ones of your family slain by the Dead. We must leave now.” The sharp tone sent chills through the girl’s body and she was forced to agree, for the time being.

The duo trudged through the alley and they were soon heading at a rapid pace for the outskirts of the town. “We must make it to the ocean, quickly, before they know that I have arrived. They musn’t apprehend you at any cost!” The girl remained silent and wondered what was going on, but thought it best not to say anything.

When they reached the town gatehouse on the southern side of town the Necromancer stopped. “Into the gatehouse m’lady. I sense none of the Dead in here. We can wait out the last hours of night in here.” He saw the first signs of dawn starting to show over the mountains to the east. Only a few more hours until dawn lent its light to them.

A scream caused the man to draw his blade and rush into the gatehouse. The girl came running down the stairs screaming. Puzzled, the Necromancer carefully approached the stairs wondering why he had not sensed any Dead in the gatehouse. The answer was soon clear as he looked to the top of the stairs to see the being wreathed in seering hot flame. The heat reached his face 30 some steps below. It was clearly a being summoned by a powerful Evoker, and it’s aggression was obvious. Just great, another obstacle. What am I doing here? Thought the Necromancer, as the fire-being began its slow, lumbering descent down the stairs.