• Mature • A Helping Hand

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Neronin
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A Helping Hand

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716th Arc, 10th Trial of Zi'da
Neronin's Home, Etzos


Necromancy was an academic craft as much as any other, indeed, much more than some. The subtle edge of life and death, the coaxing of a body back to function after the corrosive effects of decay and rot settled in was not an easy thing. The depletion of one's own body's energy to do this was even harder. Distractions could be detrimental. An especially piercing distraction, truly grating on the ears of an arcane scholar, was the baying of a human child. Neronin detested such sounds. Crying was for the dying and the tortured, a simple tether to sanity when one was far submerged in pain. It was not, as far as he was concerned, a valid activity for those who were hearty and whole.

that being said, he found himself distracted from his animation of the rat's body by the disgusting bleating of his neighbor's child. They were both laborers in the city, though he knew not where. All three of their children were brats younger than ten. This, Neronin sensed by the pitch, was the youngest of all. A female of four he had surmised from casual passing. Neronin let his attention falter and simmer out, the crackling energy he had been about to animal the rat-corpse with dying. He would have to silence the girl.

Of course he could not and would not hurt her. She was weak and sniveling, but that was her parent's fault at this point. At four he had still been looking to his mother in vain for protection, equally despicable as this child. Apart from that leniency, she was the daughter of his neighbor. One did not shit and eat in the same place, as the saying went. He did not want his neighbors thinking ill of him or the delicate balance he had found in this tiny hovel would be altered. He could speak to her though. He was confident that he could find a way to silence her with words.

She was sitting in the doorway to her home, her head tilted back and her face red. Tear tracks left bright streaks across an otherwise dusty small face. Neronin watched her a moment, appraising her. She would make a next to useless thrall anyway. Her body was small and her leg had been broken already, leaving her with a limp. It had been a very sad occasion for the family. They depended on their children for extra income and this had limited her prospects for work heavily.

"What it the matter...child." Neronin asked with a fair shot at empathy. The smile he attempted still seemed to turn into a slight frown as he watched the small bubble of snot waver in her nose. Pathetic.

"Dog, in the house!" She held up her small arm, showing a few agitated red marks. "He bit me!" She explained.

Neronin glanced through the open doorway then back at the girl. "You're dog bit you?" He asked, his heart falling. He did not want to have to care for a damn child all day just because her parents couldn't keep their mutt suitably disciplined.

"Not my dog! I don't know who's dog. It just came in when I opened the door to throw out the soup." This sparked Neronin's interest for the first time. If this wasn't her dog, maybe he could salvage some utility from the situation. He glanced in the house again, unable to discern any dog though.

"Ah well, I'll go fetch my knife and see if I can't help you get rid of the...dog." He said. He was about to go back when he remembered the girl. "Why don't you stay out here and I'll be right back... young lady." He gave her a smile, genuine for the first time. A dog would make an excellent test subject. Not as ideal as a human, but without the obstacles.
Last edited by Neronin on Sat Jan 14, 2017 10:24 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 683
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Neronin
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Neronin returned to the girl with one of his sharp knives in hand. Between that and a little necrotic magic he was sure he could overcome a dog. That did not mean he was not on edge with nerves. the girl hadn't moved, though she stood when he came out with the knife. She said nothing, but pointed inside the door. Neronin noticed with some appreciation that she had stopped crying. At least the little one could appreciate the satisfaction of revenge. He had always viewed that as an essential life lesson.

The necromancer entered the house, blade first. He had no experience with knife combat, and his was shorter and the edge was thinner. It was designed for cutting meat that had already been cooked. But it was sharp and the point was vicious enough to do the job. The home smelled faintly of chicken meat and onion. It was cluttered with toys, clothes, bits of kitchen-ware and other family items. Compared to his own residence it was quite packed. They also had three rooms. One for the parents, one where all three children slept, and one general room. He stepped quietly over to the first bedroom.

It was lit by the light from the open doorway. Neronin saw, upon the bed, a vicious if slightly starved dog. It's hackles were raised as his stared malevolently at him. Neronin guessed the thing weighed near enough to fifteen pounds. IT was a small breed, but had a vicious temperament.

The necromancer began to gather his energy as he entered the room. Perhaps the animal could sense the vile chaotic stuff gathering in Neronin's arm, or else it could tell by his posture that he was a threat, but either way it stood. They stared at each other with the same analytical look. This creature, more than many humans, Neronin could respect. It survived off of tenacity. It's slight build and slimness, more than a sign of weakness, were a testament to it's tenacity. Its was a creature of the streets as much as he was.

Neronin lunged, coming up short as he waved the knife in front of him. The dog leapt from the bed to challenge him. It barked at is hopped before him. Neronin saw the thing favored its front right paw. It had probably been in a fight with another stray and had entered the home out of desperation. He watched it carefully, not wanting to underestimate the thing. Neronin stepped again, ready to attack if the dog came within range of his tiny blade.

The injured dog danced forward and snapped at him. Neronin swiped wildly with his blade. It connected with the dog in the chest. A streak of bright red and the dog jumped back, yelping. It began to shake and tried to lick the spot. Neronin seized the opportunity, moving quickly forward again. He grabbed the dog's muzzle with his free hand and released the pent up Sap spell he had been holding back. To a man, the Sap would have knocked the breath out, but to this dog it utterly destroyed it's willpower. The thing fell to the ground with a whimper. It still struggled weakly against his hand, peeing itself in the process.

The necromancer felt a pang of sympathy for the beast as he brought his knife swiftly down into- the thing's chest, where he imagined the heart to be. As the dog became quiet and slowly ceased its jerking, he watched on his knees. Neronin sighed, he had just slain one of the ones in this damned city who didn't deserve it. But the strong feed on the weak. That was the way of life, and there was no changing that.

Neronin pulled the knife free and wiped it on the dog's black fur. Blood was pooling on the dusty floorboards, but that wasn't his problem. He was the savior today, not the maid. He stood and picked the dog up by the neck. In death the thing seemed much less admirable. That was the way of death though. Neronin held it aloft as he exited the house. The girl gasped and took a few steps back.
word count: 717
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Neronin
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"It's dead." Neronin said, watching her for a reaction. She looked at the dog with an unreadable expression.

"You killed it? Why?" She asked, now sadness seemed to break through her so perfectly neutral gaze. Neronin felt a splash of guilty and a current of distaste move through him. He could have said a hundred different biting things. Because you said you were hurt, because that is what happens to rabid dogs, because it was a danger. But instead he steadied himself. He breathed in deeply, looking at the dog.

"Because I can." He said slowly, watching her face for a reaction. "People do things because they are able. Watch out for that, little girl." He finished, his tone ice. The necromancer watched the little girl go back inside her house and close the door. He felt he had probably scared her, but that was okay. Fear was a good way to survive, a good way to grow up. Neronin went back to his home, a grisly prize in his hand. He hadn't done much dog animating, and this would be interesting to catalogue.

Neronin quickly set the dead dog upon the table with no more reverence or ceremony. The lure of necromantic magics overpowered the somber memory of the kill. He longed for the thrill of power, the almost electric sensation of energy coursing from him. But the proper method had to be observed. He wanted to record such an event. The necromancer brought out the much used journal, lighting a candle to illuminate his work. He retrieved, also, his ink well and a carefully kept pen. The necromancer began to write.

Notes on Necromantic Animation of the Dog
716 Arc, 10 Trial, Zi'da

I have acquired, at no risk to my person, a freshly deceased dog-corpse. This presents a relatively new anatomy to work with. To begin I will designate the points of usefulness of the dog, though there is no need in this case to Preserve.

1)The legs, as the singular form of motion.
2)The maw, as the primary form of defense.
3)The claws, as a secondary form of defense.


Neronin looked down at his work so far. Then eagerly he turned his attention to the corpse. Even as his gaze landed on the fresh corpse he felt the stir of power within. It awakened as his thoughts lead to the reanimation soon to be. Neronin breathed in, allowing the dark magic to fill him even as the air inflated his lungs. The necromancer raised both hands carefully, fingers spread. He opened the magic to pours from him with a sensation akin to scratching an itch. It slipped from his body and into the dog with an eagerness. Neronin melded his mind with the physical body of the dog, tying the thing to his will. He sent a pulse of will through the mental link and watching in satisfaction as the thrall-dog pushed itself up onto all four paws. It snarled with a hunger for flesh. The thing gazed back at Neronin and he found the hunger slightly unsettling, though he knew it would never attack him with such a strong hold.

The dog leapt from the table at Neronin's command, prancing about the room in a variety of walks. Neronin shifted his commands to practice each and see which he approved of most. He made an afternoon of the study, making the dog do things whilst he carefully recorded notes in his precious journal. The hours slid past as he expanded his craft, until a sudden and loud knock on the door.

Neronin jerked upright, the dog collapsing into a corpse suddenly. He stared at the closed door with a nervous suspicion, making no sound. Had someone heard him and surmised what he was doing inside the tiny house? No, they would not have knocked, but kicked the door down with a violence. Neronin moved forward and snatched up the dog. He tucked it under the sack in his wheelbarrow before stepping up to the door and waiting.

"Hello, are you in there?" Came a woman's voice. Neronin put on his most neutral face, wiping the thin sheen of sweat from his forehead. He opened the door and smiled faintly at the pleasant, middle-aged woman who was there. The little girl from before stood behind her.

"Ah... Hello." Neronin said, his voice quiet.

The woman smiled. "Hello! Ana just told me what you did. I just wanted to come thank you in person!" She held out a loaf of bread and a small block of cheese. "I'm so glad you came out and rescued her from that horrid beast." At her words Neronin nodded silently. His eyes lit upon the little girl at the words 'horrid beast'. She was smiling up at him with blithe adoration. It was repugnant. She knew nothing of him, how could she be so easily hoodwinked.

"It was nothing." Neronin said without embellishment. He spread his hands before him in a gesture to accompany the statement. Nothing, now go and leave me be! The woman's smile faltered with his lack of enthusiasm.

"Oh I see we are interrupting you're peace! Well here, take this as a thank you." She shoved the food into his hands. "We're very thankful for you, at least." She finished, stepping back and gathering up her daughter.

Neronin nodded once again. "Glad to be of service, ma'am." He said with a final attempt at a smile. She nodded awkwardly and hurried her daughter back to their home. Neronin watched them enter and then shut his own door. Now he could finally return to his studies in peace. The smell of the cheese wafted up to him though. Perhaps he would wait a bit longer to continue the study...
word count: 984
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Whisper
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A Helping Hand

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Neronin


Peer Review

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: 0/5
Structure: 5/5
These points can/cannot be spent in magic


Awarded Knowledge

Combat: Look for Opponents’ Weaknesses
Combat: Stance and Positioning
Killing: Aim for the Heart
Killing: Respect the Dead
Morals: Children Are Not to Blame
Necromancy: Preservation
Necromancy: Useful Points in a Dog

Extras
Loot & Losses [/color]xxxxxx Injuries
+1 Loaf of Bread [/color]xxxxxx None
+1 Block of Cheese
Fame [/color]xxxxxx Devotion
None [/color]xxxxxx None



Comments


Lovely thread - glad you added a story to keep the necromancy exciting!


As you can see, I have provided feedback and reasoning behind my review. If you have any questions, comments or criticism about your review, feel free to send me a PM and we can discuss it.
Thank ye.
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