• Mature • A Prized Companion

This area is unmoderated. Please click on "Forum Rules" at the top of this page or go to the "Unmoderated Areas" forum to see the rules for playing here.

Moderator: Basilisk Snek

User avatar
Neronin
Posts: 411
Joined: Tue Jan 10, 2017 4:34 pm
Race: Human
Profession: Mage
Renown: 210
Character Sheet
Plot Notes
Personal Journal
Templates
Wealth Tier: Tier 5

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

A Prized Companion

Image


716th Arc, 4th Trial of Zi'da
The Underground, Etzos


"My name? Neronin. Why do you ask?"

"What's in the Wheelbarrow, Neronin?" The old soldier asked, glancing curiously down at the sacks that lay in shadowy folds across the old, rickety wheelbarrow. He carried an aged halberd in one had, and seemed to need it to stand at the moment. Neronin grimaced as the soldier bent closer, the smell of cheap mead and whiskey thick on his breath. Of course, the Underground came with many unpleasant smells. Neronin, for his part, was used to most although it was the indignity of the drunkard most that made him recoil.

But such interactions were to be expected within the bowels of the Underground. That glorious, dark crosshatch of tunnels was the where the city's real potential was. Etzos was like a juicy corpse lain across the massive dark web that was the Underground. It held the city up. Neronin spent many hours deep in the maze of tunnels, always on the watch for a quality specimen. He had found one today, and this drunkard was not going to ruin that for him.

"Dead rats. Man's got to eat, ya know?" Neronin said with a pointedly off smile. He tried to seem as odd as possible, unsettling the old soldier. "Want one? Barely a fortnight old!" Neronin leapt on the act, seeing the look of disgust on the older man's face.

The drunkard backed away slightly, his shuffling footsteps raking across a shallow puddle on the stone floor. Neronin watched in masked disgust. This old warrior was just another soft sludge. If a man had never been reduced to eating a rat in his life he was indeed a privileged fellow. Neronin himself had eaten more than his fair share of the rodents, although that was far from his purpose tonight.

"No? Okay. Well if that's all you wanted, I must be off." Neronin appraised the man one last time. He could not help it. Since he was eleven he had been prone to imagining the living as dead. Their build, their bone structure, their decayed state. He could not help but imagine everyone he met as a vessel for his dark magics. It was a nasty addiction, he knew, but one he embraced.

Everyone had their vices.

As he moved on from the old drunk soldier and his sad little fire Neronin thought about what a long night it would be. The old wheelbarrow squeaked and whined softly as he pushed. The single wheel hit an uneven cobblestone and the old wheelbarrow lurched, jolting Neronin. He glanced down and saw a pale something had crept out from under the dark sack and hung limp over the side of the wheelbarrow. Neronin quickly bent and returned the old, dead arm safely under the cover of the sack.

Eventually Neronin found his way out of the Underground and into the light of the moon. Everything was sent into sharp blues and greys and inky blacks. It was a transformation from the hazy shadowed black of the Underground. Neronin turned his feet for home.

The home in question was a rickety, run-down house nestled between two other slightly bigger homes at the ass end of an alleyway. It was not much, but it was a far sight better than some places he had been. And it was private.

He kicked open the door and wheeled his way inside.

Last edited by Neronin on Thu Jan 12, 2017 10:36 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 586
User avatar
Neronin
Posts: 411
Joined: Tue Jan 10, 2017 4:34 pm
Race: Human
Profession: Mage
Renown: 210
Character Sheet
Plot Notes
Personal Journal
Templates
Wealth Tier: Tier 5

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

A Prized Companion

Image

The one room house was not lit. Neronin carefully wheeled his prize to the corner before turning to light the candle on his table. The room was thrown into a dancing mix of orange light and shadow. It was a small space, one that Neronin surveyed with a slight frown. It was not the quality he disliked, but the size. He had never experienced luxury, and was not keen on it. He did, however, covet privacy. He dreamed of the day he would be able to work on his hidden passion in a larger more private space. The necromancer ran a few pale fingers through the straight greasy hair, moving it out of his eyes.

Neronin wasted no time clearing the table of the plate and knife he kept set out. He tossed them carelessly onto the bed and turned to the wheelbarrow. The mundane wooden thing held a sort of dark promise as Neronin stared at it eagerly. He threw off the sack covering it and and stared down at the newly acquired specimen.

The middle aged man's eyes stared blankly up at the thatch-work ceiling. He was nothing special, slightly overweight and balding. But he was fresh, or as fresh as could be expected. Neronin leant down a few inches over the cadaver's face and breathed in deeply. Yes, perhaps two days old at most. He pulled open the corpse's mouth and inspected the blacked tongue and the yellowed teeth. Nothing too disappointing.

Either way, the quality of the corpse was not the deciding factor. The irresistible availability and convenience was. Neronin could hardly pass up such a prize that was just sitting there, a silent sentinel in the night. Neronin had come across the corpse in his wandering through the Underground, hunched against the wall beside a long dead fire. It was exactly what he hoped for during his walks amongst the shadows. He was not capable of acquiring corpses out of violence, and depended on disease and age and luck to gift them to him.

The necromancer was past the stage of trying to kill rats with a sling to gather them for his swarm. He needed more human corpses to test the bounds of his craft. Neronin wheeled the corpse over next to the table. Carefully he lifted, pulled, and rolled the dead weight onto the tabletop. The thing stunk up the whole room, but Neronin hardly noticed the stench. To him, it was just another element of the craft.

Neronin ran his fingers across the dead man's skin and under his torn shirt. He felt the bloating and the distortion that rot and decay had caused. The Underground was a dark, dank place, and it corroded corpses. He would have to do some repairs before anything else if he wanted this one to be remotely useful. The amateur necromancer let his attention drift down to where the bloating and rot had set in. Neronin felt a surge of power wash through his arm and seep into the body through his fingers. The energy licked his fingers with friction as it soaked into the body and Neronin could feel the chaotic vile energy repairing the flesh. Neronin watched as the bloating receded under his Preserve spell.

Neronin nodded his satisfaction at the work. Preserve spells had been a challenge initially for him. Gavrel had made his learn this first, and for almost an Arc his sole purpose was the repair the dead corpses Gavrel used in his work. For the longest time Neronin had thought this was out of spite, and perhaps it was. But it did greatly improve his skill in the spellcrafting.

As he reflected with bitter disdain upon his deceased master Neronin reminded himself why he had pursued this grisly art in the first place. Power. To master the craft of unlike was to be without a master. The dead carried with them almost as many stigmas as magic itself did. The art of necromancy was indeed a wretched, disposed thing. But once mastered the necromancer would have the perfect loyalty of those he created. Who else could boast such?

word count: 700
User avatar
Neronin
Posts: 411
Joined: Tue Jan 10, 2017 4:34 pm
Race: Human
Profession: Mage
Renown: 210
Character Sheet
Plot Notes
Personal Journal
Templates
Wealth Tier: Tier 5

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Miscellaneous

A Prized Companion

Image


Neronin let himself relax after the Preserve. He wanted to pace himself so as to avoid the nastier effects of Overstepping. He had been huddled on the ground aching in pain and vomiting all over himself before. That was not an experience he wanted to repeat tonight. He knew that keeping his mind strong and steady was pivotal in avoiding the repercussions of ambitiously overstepping his abilities. Humility was key. And so Neronin went and took a sip of water to steady his strength before returning to the table.

"You will be quite the servant, thrall." Neronin whispered to the dead man. It did not respond. Even if animated, the thing would not respond unless Neronin willed it. The conversation was nevertheless some of the best he'd had. Neronin let his hands move over the corpse, hovering in the space above the cold, pallid skin. In his mind the mage planned out the animation.

Neronin controlled his breathing. He let the breath move his chest and course through his nose slowly. Such a simple and mundane action was hardly worthy of the common man's notice, but to Neronin it was everything. That was the end goal, life. He gathered the Ether in a familiar way, letting it flow and curl itself around his outstretched arms and fingers. The familiar static sensation set Neronin's morals to clenching as he willed the power down into the corpse once again. He felt his awareness merge with the sense of the corpse. He let his energy light a spark of being within the thing. He became the mind of two bodies, his and this newest Husk.

Neronin felt the effort in it. It was a subtle thing, like focusing on a single note in a song. He stared down at the motionless corpse and willed it to sit up. The creature jerked, fidgeting. He send a tendril of willpower to reinforce the order and the creature slowly clawed its way to a sitting position on his table. Neronin breathed out a victorious gasp and stepped back. Now that he had maintained a dominance it was coming more easily. He willed the Husk to topple off the table and follow him. The thing obeyed instantly, though it's movements were clumsy and slow.

Neronin reached up and pulled the Thrall's cloak up and around him. Then he turned and left the home. He had no idea where he would go or what he would do. He was just elated at his success. He had achieved a corpse and thus a perfect servant! Neronin was careful to bring up his own hood before leaving the house. He watched at the thrall stumbled slowly after him and waited silently while he closed the door.

They set off, Neronin exercising his will over the creature and the thrall stumbling along like some drunkard. Neronin practiced a variety of tasks with the thrall, his mind going to the power and utility of such minions later. Power would bring with it many possibilities. Neronin smiled into the night as he listened to the rasp of the thrall's steps on the pavement.

"Hey, what the hell is that?!" The shout came from behind. Neronin spun in horror, his reverie shattered by the sound. He had been careless to bring the thing out, but how else could he exercise his will over it. They had been found out and that almost surely meant death.
The boy who had shouted was some sort of city militiaman. He clutched a battered spear and wore a helm too large for his head. As Neronin watched he came trotting up, spear loose in his hand. The cloak had, in the thrall's shambling steps, come off of the thing's head. It looked grotesque in the moonlight, white and unseeing. Neronin had to think fast as the soldier was approaching. He began to gather his power even as he spoke. "I'm just bringing my drunk brother home. What's the problem, sir?" Neronin asked, spreading his hands in a placating gesture. The soldier clearly did not believe him, but the look of confusion on his face was enough. Neronin lunged at him, snarling in the effort.

His hand clawed at the man's face. At the moment of impact he released the built up energy in a vicious assault. The Sap spell hit the man with an unexpected force. He was not injured, but he was winded. The spear droppped from one hand and the tip clanked against the ground even as the Husk made a lunge for the man. The thing seemed possessed by a savage hunger. It dragged the boy to the ground. Neronin watched in a stunned silence as the thrall devoured the boy's flesh with a ferocity.

When the boy was clearly dead Neronin willed the thrall to cease its feasting. That particular order came sluggish and weak. The thrall only ceased after second burst of willpower. The Husk made its way to its feet and stood motionless. Neronin wiped sweat from his forehead and stared down at the boy in apprehension. He would be discovered. He had to think quickly or be found out.

The necromancer slowly bent and picked up the spear. He knew what he must do. Neronin grimaced as he thrust the point repeatedly intro the wounds the thrall had made. He maimed them and created a mess of blood and flesh. When he was satisfied there were no teeth marks decipherable amongst the mess and reached out with the spear in hand. With a nudge of his willpower the thrall reached out and grasped the spear. It held it limply in one hand. Neronin turned to face the thing.

"Go now." He said as he willed the thrall to stumble it's way into a nearby alley. When the thing was hidden enough he let his control over the thing release. He heard it slump to the ground, once again a decaying corpse. If all went well the authorities would find the carcass and assume he had overpowered the youth. Neronin pulled his hood down further over his face as he turned to run home. He hadn't gotten more than a few hours out of the body, but at least he knew he could defend himself.
word count: 1064
User avatar
Maltruism
General Staff
Posts: 2430
Joined: Thu Feb 26, 2015 10:57 pm
Race: Prophet
Profession: "Mastermind"
Renown: 0
Plot Notes
Personal Journal
Templates
Point Bank Thread
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

Featured

Contribution

Milestones

RP Medals

Staff

Miscellaneous

Events

A Prized Companion

Image
Come and get your loot!

(There's plenty more where that came from)


NERONIN:
Rewards:

  • Story: +5
  • Collaboration: +0 (solo)
  • Structure: +5

These Points CAN be used for magic


Knowledges:

  • Acrobatics: Wheeling an Unbalanced Wheelbarrow
  • Appraisal: Looking a Gift Corpse in the Mouth
  • Appraisal: The State of a Workable Corpse
  • Appraisal: People: Not all Soldiers are Fit to Fight
  • Deception: Covering the Prize with Dead Rats to Avoid a Search
  • Deception: Mauling Thrall Wounds with a Spear to Hide the Truth
  • Discipline: Not Letting the Smell of Death Bother You
  • Etzos Location: The Underground
  • Intimidation: An Offer of a Meal of Rats
  • Necromancy: Availability of Corpses is Essential
  • Necromancy: Extending Awareness to Join One Mind With Two Bodies
  • Necromancy: Pacing Yourself to Avoid Overstepping
  • Necromancy: The Eventual Need for Human Subjects
  • Necromancy: The First Command is the Hardest to Impose
  • Necromancy: The Thrall is an Effective Bodyguard
  • Necromancy: Preserve: Practice Makes Perfect
  • Necromancy: Sap: An Effective Prelude to a Physical Assault
  • Stealth: Close up the House Before you Light the Candle
  • Stealth: Don't Bring Your Thrall Out in Public With You!

Loot:

Sorry, not a loot-heavy story


Loss:

Didn't cost you anything, though


Injuries:

Nope, you're good


Fame:-2

You're going to eat rats??


Devotion:

Nothing, but Famula or her devotees would destroy you!


Comments:

Looking at the lore, I got the impression that "Preserve" does not actually "repair" rot or associated effects, but only stops them from advancing further. I think you were using "Restore", which you don't have yet. You're only a point away from Competent, where you'd get "Restore", so it's nothing I'm going to make a big issue of. Just thought I'd mention it.
Nice story overall, well contained, and enjoyable demonstrative of a few stumbling early mistakes by a newcomer to the domain. One place you had "unlike" where you surely meant "unlife", and another where you had "disposed' where it was most likely "despised". Sounds like an auto-correct issue. :roll:
Well done, and well considered.
PM me with any comments or concerns :)
word count: 349
Locked Request an XP Review Claim Wealth Thread

Return to “Western: Etzos”