Yes.

Yes

No. You feel trapped.

Ps are you The Huntsman or The Beast??

A Challenge of Oaths: Valor A Lost Soul 2017/06/13(Tue)17:32 No. 807768 ID: 9e1847
File 149740036315.jpg - (530.01KB , 1920x1440 , High Marshall.jpg )

"Yes."

The answer tumbles from my lips, piercing the air with its finality. I am righteous in my choice, resolute in my conviction. I swore an oath, and when I failed, I swore one anew. I would not fail again. Never again.

No mortal or god would stand in my way.

I continue up the stairs, leaving the paladin behind me to die. I absentmindedly check my armor as I ascend, noting with only mild concern the patchwork nature of the metal that makes it up. As my own armor was damaged, I simply scavenged what remained from my opponent. Each piece, a memorial to those that have fallen before me. All that remains from the start of my journey is the my blade, a tainted relic once considered holy, and the Lantern that bears her soul within. Her form flickers, as she ascends with me, like a mist about my body. Soon, I promise silently. Soon you shall have liberation.

I step onto the top floor, my tread purposeful and unrelenting. Here is where my goal lies, at the center of the room. The shining beacon of the Lighthouse, the light of thousands of lives channeling upwards, towards the heavens and the paradise beyond. The Lantern at my hip seems to shudder at such a close proximity to so much unprotected light, and for perhaps the first time her spirit is so clear I feel like I could reach out and touch her.

All that stands in our way now is the last paladin, the High Marshall himself. He stands, blade and shield in hand, disappointment and regret clear in his eyes.

"You've come so far, child. All for what? A single life?"

A scowl comes unbidden to my face. That he dares treat me as an unlearned infant is infuriating, but I keep my anger in check. Combat is no place for a misplaced temper. Instead, I orient myself, shield facing my opponent, sword arm loose and strike. I will not honor his question with an answer he already knows. He assumes his own stance, mirroring my own almost exactly. Still, he does not strike at me, instead relaxing his frame and continuing to speak. His words surprise me, his grim determination and conviction coming out as he speaks the first part of the oath.

"To the First, I swear, I shall not falter in the face of death."

A challenge of a different sort. A challenge of ideals and oaths, not just in steel and fury. I feel I must rise to the challenge, answer oath with oath. I built my new oath, my new reason to be, in direct contrast to theirs.

Five parts for five parts.

I would answer his oath with my own.

>Respond with your oath

"To the first, I swear, I shall never accept Death - the true form of death, the death of change.

To the second, I swear, I shall never atone for false sins and hollow lies, the richest form of enslavement and refuge of sinners.

To the third, I swear, I shall never accept the world as it is, but as it could be.

To the fourth, I swear, I shall rescue her.

And to the fifth... I swear to kill you."

>"To the First, I swear, I shall not falter in the face of death."
Right, so we need to mirror and surpass his oaths.

"To the First, I swear, I shall not falter, not before any opposition."

>>807813
Seems like the fifth line should be the most powerful, and evoke our central mission. His death is a necessary minor obstacle in our path, not a central tenet to it. He dies simply because he stands in our way, not because he needs to on other merits.

"To the First, I swear, I shall not falter, not before any opposition."

My own oath sends my opponent reeling, his eyes widening and form slackening as he registers my words. Without hesitation, I close the distance between us, blade becoming a flicker of steel as it seeks his blood. The High Marshall, even caught flatfooted, quickly re-assumes his stance, angling his shield to deflect my blow rather than simply take it. Still, he fails to make a counter-strike, and that allows me time to recover and attack again. This time, he charges forward, driving his shield into my blow and forcing me back. I giving ground in favor of trading blows. Though he is older than I, I am already tired, having to fight my way through his subordinates to reach this point. There's no guarantee I would come from such an exchange in the better position. Surprisingly he fails to take the initiative, instead regaining his ready stance as he regards me with outrage in his voice.

"You dare mock our vows? You dare swear an oath to the Five, when you've already spit on their name?"

I remain silent, simply dropping once more into my ready stance. I have no words to describe my feelings on the Five. I have no desire to explain, even if I did. I have chosen my path, now I would see it through to the end. My opponent, seeing my lack of words, tenses before speaking once more, the second part of the oath reaching my ears.

"To the Second, I swear, I shall guide all on the path of light."

>Respond with your oath

"To the Second, I swear, I shall open a way to a path of light."

"To the Second, I swear, I shall let not one soul fall from the path of light."

To the Second, I swear, I will guide her back into the light.

"To the second, I swear, I shall bring all into the Light."

>>807934
To the Second, I swear, I shall carry light into the dark, on my own path.

"To the Second, I swear, I shall open a way to a path of light."

My words elicit a flash of anger across my opponent's face, though it is quickly replaced with stoic calm. His actions, however, betray his anger. He charges forward, shield leading, intending to perhaps force me even further back. Instead, I meet shield with shield, metal crashing against metal and strength testing strength. Though the High Marshall is older, he still manages to hold me back for a moment before I shove, sending him stumbling to regain his footing. I quickly follow up with a thrust of my blade, and though the resulting wound is shallow, it still means first blood to me. This fact is not lost to either of us, and once again we retreat, assuming our stances and facing off.

"To the Third, I swear, I shall tend to those in need of aid."

>Respond with your oath

To the Third, I swear, I will tend to the one in need of my aid.

To the third, I swear, I shall ensure none I leave are in need of aid.

"To the third, I swear, I shall tend to the one in need of my aid."

Once again, the distance between us closes, steel meeting steel. This time, it is no mere test of skill, or probing strikes seeking weakness. Our blades hunt for blood, even as shields seek to defend it. The ring of steel fills the air, the chamber silent but for it and the occasional grunt of effort. It is my tired body that falters first in the exchange, and I react too slowly to divert a blow. I feel the cold steel dig into my leg, drawing blood, before I manage to ward the High Marshall away, falling back to assess the damage. The wound is far more grievous than his, and I can already tell my mobility has been hampered. Still, I return to my stance, as best I can, squaring off against my opponent, who seems far more confident.

"To the Fourth, I swear, I shall visit justice upon all evil."

>Respond with your oath

"To the Fourth, I swear, I shall visit justice where it is due."

Expands the purview of justice beyond mere evil, but also constrains or harnesses it to a cause, not leaving it as an end in and of itself.

"To the Fourth, I swear, I will find justice for her!"

"To the Fourth, I swear, I shall visit justice where it is due."

The High Marshall charges, giving me little time to rest and gather myself. Once again, blades and shields sing, blows traded at a blistering pace. With my leg injured, I find myself on the defensive, but it is that same injury that lends the High Marshall confidence. Too much confidence it would seem, as he overextends on an attack, and my blade punishes the mistake dearly. We both retreat, breathing heavily after the exchange. My opponent grimaces in pain, a deep gash in his side where my blade tore through his armor and bit deep. Still, he settles into his stance once more, eyes filled with the determination to see this through to the end.

"To the Fifth, I swear, I shall stand forever against the shadows."

>Respond with your oath

>>808813
Hold forth the lantern.

"To the Fifth, I swear, I shall stand forever against the dying of the light."

"To the Fifth, I swear, I shall triumph against the dark."

Get him riled up by goading with arrogance, one last time.

I drop my shield, taking up the Lantern in my hand instead. Her form flickers, ghostly body floating before me, eyes filled with naked worry and fear. She can feel what it is I seek, it seems. Perhaps a connection born of the Lantern. Who can say? Regardless, I hold it forth, the glow somehow overpowering the light from the Lighthouse, even as I grip my blade all the harder.

"To the Fifth, I swear, I shall stand forever against the dying of the light."

The High Marshall charges forth one final time, even as I do the same. His blade seeks my life, just as mine does his. His shield batters aside my blade, as his drives into my stomach, almost assuredly ending my chance at life. There will be no walking away from this fight.

But my goal is reached all the same.

I push forward, dragging my opponent with me, until the Lantern is thrust into the light of the Lighthouse, and I can feel it tug from my grasp, feel magic surge all around me. The Lantern floats within the Lighthouse, it's glow growing in strength every second.

"NO! What have you done?!"

The High Marshall tries to reach in, tries to extract the Lantern, but his hands can't breach the shell of souls that now encases the artifact. His attempts merely call forth a burst of magic, hurling us both into the stone walls of the room. I slump to the ground, limp, but eyes fixed on her. The magic sings as the Lantern feasts on so many unprotected souls using their light to fuel its own magic. The High Marshall stumbles to his feet, but even now he knows he can't do a thing to stop it.

They appear in an instant, all five of them, surrounding the Lantern. Their power grows, each grasping at it with their magic, each adding their strength together until the room is bathed in a blinding light. When it clears, the Lantern is gone, and the gods are turned to me, even as my strength fades.

One of them, a woman, kneels before me, her hand stroking my cheek, her eyes sad.

"He's dying."

"Good riddance. The man nearly stripped a good portion of our strength from us."

"How did he find one? I though you said all had been accounted for, Wisdom?"

"I thought they had. It would appear we'd missed one."

"You are the High Marshall?"

"Y-Yes, my lord."

"Gather your paladins. We sent the Lantern away, but that was all we could do. Somewhere east. I want it found, or failing that, all towns to be on high alert."

"Right away, my lord!"

She with the sad eyes is pushed to the side and replaced with a man whose eyes speak of grim determination. He stares me in the face for but a moment before standing.

"We can't allow this one to live. Nor can we grant him a place in our heavens."

"Bu-"

"No, Compassion. He has wronged us, in the worst way possible. A Lantern should not have made it this far, and especially not while in the hands of a paladin. Still, we cannot allow him to go the river either. We claim his light, we seal it away where no one can find it, and that will be that. Objections... Good. So it shall be."

The last of my strength leaves me then, eyes closing for the final time. Still, my thoughts turn to her. Had I succeeded? Had she been given her place in the heavens? I had to know if all I had done had been worth it.

Was I righteous, in the end?

"Hey, wake up."

The voice is unfamiliar, and in response I turn away from it. It must not be talking to me. I'm dead, a spirit trapped in a Lantern, carried by a paladin fallen from his gods. Or maybe not, I never understood how paladins did things. Wasn't my place to.

"Wake up, we haven't got all day."

I move my hand at the voice, attempting to bat it away, only to find an unfamiliar weight dragging at my arm. I frown, ghosts shouldn't have to worry about weight, and the errant thought forces my eyes open. I'm greeted by the sight of a ghostly face, a man's face, staring directly at me. I startle, scrambling backwards, only to snag myself on something and trip myself up. I take a moment to collect myself and find what it was I'd tripped over, and can only bring myself to stare at the object chained to my forearm.

The Lantern.

It glows vibrantly, its light strong. But that couldn't be right, the Lantern can't be attached to me. I was dead. I remember being dead, a ghost, incapable of speech or touching or anything. This wasn't right? Where was... where was the paladin?

"Hey, I don't appreciate being ignored! Not often I get to come up here to the land of the living, but the boss man hasn't had a necromancer running around for a long while, so up and at em!"

My attention turns to the ghost, who somehow looks like an arrogant prick, even in death and floating two feet in the air. I get to my feet again, still surprised I even have feet, and face the ghost properly, Lantern dangling from the chain around my arm.

"Good, you're paying attention. I'm going to make this easy for you. Yes, you were dead. You're obviously not anymore. The Lantern rebuilt your body. Mostly. It's not alive. Your body I mean. You're a necromancer, Raiser of the Dead, Commander of the unliving, all that comes with it. Right now, you're weak though. Very weak. Lantern used up most of its power rebuilding you. Get over it. Right now, I'd say you could probably make a few corpses get up, command a few skeletons, and of course rip the light out of any poor unsuspecting sod you get your hands on. You need to do that to keep your light going. Lantern's only got so much, if the light ever goes out, you're done. Dead as they come. And we don't want that. See, here's the thing, the gods and their heavens are... disrupting the natural order, as it were. The souls of the dead are supposed to go to the River, down below, and get cleansed and recycled and sent back as a new life. Not getting stored away like some... jewel in a treasure vault. So the Lord of the Dead, my master, wants you to go disrupt their Lighthouses, get rid of the heavens and free all those souls. Better still if you kill the gods while your at it, but one step at a time. You got all of that?"

>Two Spells Unlocked
>Raise Dead: Spend a charge of Light to raise a small group of corpse and/or skeletons from the dead, placing them under your command.
>Drain Light: Tear the soul out of a living person and add it to the Lantern. Requires physical contact with the targets skin.

That didn't really explain anything, but somehow I know he's speaking the truth about this... necromancer thing. Like something inside me is proclaiming it to be true. The rest however... there's nothing telling me if he's lying or not about it. Regardless, there's more to this than he's saying, I know it.

>Ask about the Paladin you were with
>Ask about the Lord of the Dead
>Ask about the Lighthouses and the Gods
>Ask about the Lantern
>Ask about _

>Accept the task(Main goal: Disrupt Lighthouses)
>Refuse the task(Main goal:_)
>Abstain(I need more information)

Ask about the lord of the dead and the lighthouses.

If nothing is eternal, why is there an unchanging lord of the dead? Or are they given a set number of terms before the council of necromancers elects a new one? What do the lords of the dead do anyway, and why should necromancers be given the right to extend their lives for the sake of ending others'?

What are the actual crimes of the paladins? So they oppose the natural order? Big deal. So the world's going to end? With all the reincarnation that goes on when the river is at full power, it's ending and beginning entire worlds every day. Shouldn't there be a save option?

Abstain. For the moment. Blindly accepting the cycle and its futility is as naive as accepting the spit-shined lights of the high heavens and their corrupt high-angels posing as gods. Either way, you're @#$%ed, so you have little to lose from refusing an immediate offer.

>You got all of that?
So... I'm not a force of evil, then. Of order. Or at least, an order. Why is the order the lord of the dead wants better than the order the gods want?

I mean, I want to live, but tearing down the gods and their powerbase and everyone who serves them is a lot bigger than just me.

>Ask about the Paladin you were with
...he's dead. He has to be. You know that without asking. If he yet lived, he would not have left your side.

>Ask about the Lantern
It needs souls, right? So in between claiming the stored power in the lighthouses, the only way I stay alive is by massacring people?

>Ask about _
Is it possible to be all the way alive again? Or am I going to be dependent on the lantern until I'm forcibly stopped or lose the will to continue?

>Abstain(I need more information)
I think long term our main goal would be something personal. To be a real girl again. Or maybe to be united with the person we love (he obviously loved you to do what he did- but do we love him back?). Perhaps something that is served by bringing down the lighthouses, but as a means, not an end in themselves. We're not a zealot.

>>809035
Oh, also obvious question to ask whoever this is: who are you?

Thoughts of immediately agreeing to this... person's... request are thankfully far from my mind. Even more so when I find myself focusing on the paladin who had cared for me, or my soul, for all those months. I feel... I feel like I should know him, but my memories are fuzzy. Was he... important to me before my death? Should he have been? And... who was I? I don't... my memories are fragmented, vague recollections I catch only glimpses of. What's wrong with me?

The ghost seems to catch the sudden confusion I'm feeling, because he shows a look of concern, even dropping nearly a foot in his floating routine.

"Ah... yeah... I was worried about that. Most spirits can barely retain form, much less keep their memories in order. Your's must have been scrambled during the dying and than the coming back to some semblance of life. Don't worry, all you need is something stirring your memories up to give them a little push in the right direction. Most times that just means you'll hear about something, and any memories or knowledge you had will get pulled forward. Others you might never get back. Personal questions though, generally need a little something to shake loose."

I shake the foggy feeling in my head away, focusing instead on the ghost. Something in me screams that it was horribly rude of him not to introduce himself, so I decide to give HIM a little push in the right direction.

"Who are you? And what's this Lord of the Dead and river thing? I've never heard of anything like that."

The ghost springs back up to its original floating height of two feet above you, stroking an ethereal beard as he goes back to looking imperious and pompous.

"I am the spirit of one Galdrick the Seventh, and am currently the assistant to the Head Assistant of the Prime Secretary of the Lord of the Dead, thank you kindly." You file this information away as entirely unnecessary and complex, but stay quiet as he continues. "And the Lord of the Dead is master of all those dead and undead. Which makes him your master as well, though you will likely never meet him. It is his sworn duty to oversee the River of Souls, where the light of life returns to and is cleansed of its earthly life, making it whole and pure once more before being returned to the land of the living to begin the cycle once more. Which the living would know about, if those gods of yours and their paladins hadn't stamped out any knowledge of it centuries ago and set up their heavens to funnel souls into instead."

"I fail to see how this involves me... or even why a necromancer should get to extend their life indefinitely while mass murdering everything around them."

"Ideally you wouldn't be going around killing everyone. Normally you're supposed to take only the elderly or the dying. The Lantern then strips a portion of the life from that soul to power itself, replenish its own light, before sending the soul on its way to the River. Used to be humans respected a necromancer. Now, you'll have nearly everyone out for your head if they find out what you are. And sad to say, but drastic times call for drastic measures."

"... So these Lighthouses... I'd be sending all those souls down to the River instead of up to the heavens?"

"YES! You'd be putting right the proper order of things. All those souls out of circulation means less and less are being born anew. Eventually, everything falls apart, and then there's no life at all! The entire world would be empty!"

"Why's that mean yours is the good option? It basically means all life is futile, doesn't it?"

"No! NO! Life is its own meaning! It's own necessity! Without life, there is no death! Without death, there is no life! The cycle must be completed! Must be!"

The ghost, Galdrick, seems to be getting pretty worked up about, rising even higher and practically vibrating on the spot. I resolve to not question the purpose and correctness of this river of his, if only to avoid confrontation and unnecessarily agitating my only source of information. Perhaps that means a change of topic.

"So... is there a way to return to life? Real life, without the Lantern."

"No, I'm afraid. Not for you anyway." The ghost calms, clearly fine now that the topic has shifted away from touchy subjects. "You are bound to the Lantern just as much as it is bound to you. You are inseparable now, until you are killed or your light fades. Others, though, you could easily bring back to life if the Lantern was strong enough."

"What do you mean?" I find myself far more interested now. I am certain the paladin, wherever he is, is dead. I have no doubts he'd be with me if he wasn't. But if there is a way to bring him back...

"Well, it's fairly simple, isn't it? Necromancy is command of death. All death. Get strong enough, and a necromancer can reverse death just as easily as one can inflict it. Granted, it's not something necromancers just went around and did whenever they wanted, but it's possible."

"So... I could bring him back?"

"Who?"

"The paladin?"

"Oh, him... well, yes, I suppose you could, if his soul hadn't already been claimed."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the gods went and claimed his soul. They own it now, and therefore we can't touch it. Of course, break their hold on it, and I'm sure you could see about bringing him back to life, though why anyone would want to bring a paladin back to life is beyond me."

I could bring him back. I find myself relieved by this fact, even if it is only a small comfort at the moment. Still, it gives me something to look forward to, something to reach for, perhaps. Even if I can't remember who he was, or even who I am, or why he is important to me, it's the least I can do for him looking after me.

>Ask about _

>Accept Request(Main Goal: Restore Paladin)
>Refuse Request(Main Goal:_)

Accept the quest. You must have been someone very important to the paladin for him to do all that he did.

If you're the first necromancer for ages and apparently a big deal, what help are you actually going to get on this? I mean no offence but the assistant of the assistant of the secretary of the Lord of the Dead, is a few rungs down?

Do you know who I was? I do not think we met in life, but if you are an agent of the lord of death, it occurs to me he would have unique information gathering capabilities. Everyone takes their secrets to the grave, eventually. And there was much death in my paladin's wake.

>Now, you'll have nearly everyone out for your head if they find out what you are.
Hard to conceal it, when the lantern is both glowing and bound to your arm.

How lifelike are you? You're speaking, but are you breathing? If you feel your wrist, do you have a pulse? Will you need to eat or drink?

>though why anyone would want to bring a paladin back to life is beyond me
He brought me back. He sacrificed everything he was, for me.

At the very least, I'd like to remember why.

I'd think your main goal would be to find your answers. Restoring the paladin is one route to that, and possibly the natural culmination, depending on what truth we uncover.

That one Anti-Paladin might be useful in the future. He found a lantern. He slew entire towns to power it. He destroyed a lighthouse and brought you to power as a necromancer. All to uphold his own definition of righteousness.

Imagine what you can do with an entire order of Anti-Paladins. It starts with him.

"Because he gave up everything for me. It's the least I can do to bring him back. And maybe, in doing so, I'll find more answers about myself."

"If you say so. Still think it's foolhardy myself, but I can't fault you if you're still going to do your duty as well."

I check myself, the thought occurring that if I'm undead, that must mean my body isn't alive. Fortunately, this doesn't seem to be the case. I don't know if it's because of the Lantern, but I do seem to have a pulse, and my chest rises and falls with every breath I take. I would assume, then, with my body at least being alive, that food and drink shall become necessary at some point. Still...

"You know, it's going to be difficult to hide what I am with this Lantern dangling from my arm." I rattle the chain, and by extension the Lantern, just to illustrate my point. Galdrick sniffs in disdain, clearly unwilling to allow that he might have missed something in all this.

"Well, that's hardly my fault. Most necromancers wore robes for a reason, I would assume."

I can't help but fix him with a reproachful look, to which he merely sniffs again. It seems I'll get no help from him regarding keeping my secret, but now that I'm on the topic, it seems appropriate to bring up his overall lack of aid.

"So... am I getting any help for this task of yours? I hate to say it, but the Assistant to the Secretary doesn't seem all that helpful..."

"Assistant to the Assistant to the Secretary! And yes, I've been given permission to grant you the gift of a potion, selected from three elixirs, all very rare, that you may use as you see fit in your duties. And you should be grateful for it, normally such things aren't handed out so freely, especially such precious methods of creating higher undead."

The ghost reaches into himself and draws forth three vials from within his own body, each differing in appearance and containing fluids just as diverse. Each floats gently within his ethereal grasp, and he drops a few feet to give you a proper look as he presents each in turn.

"This is a Tonic of Vampyrism. If you cannot deduce its use, I shudder for our future. As one might expect, the imbiber is, over a few days, transformed into a vampyre." The vial is long and thin, filled with a blood-red substance that seems to cling ever so slightly to its container, staining it red. "This particular brew will birth a vampyre lord. Most of the common methods used to ward against vampyres will hardly trouble a lord of their kind, including sunlight. Overall, a vampyre is hardly the most powerful of the higher undead, both physically and magically, but they can easily hide among humanity, and have a range of abilities you may find useful."

The second is then held up before my gaze. The container itself is round and made of what appears to be obsidian, such that you can't see the liquid within. "This is known as Death's Embrace. A rather potent poison to the living, a single drop could render an entire lake's water supply fatal for months. A whole bottle fed to a corpse, however, will bring the dead back as a revenant. The highest form of what one might call a zombie or skeleton, these undead will retain whatever skills they had in life, while boosting their physical abilities far beyond what any mortal would be capable of. Mind, any wounds they had in life will never heal, and they will be ashen skinned and ebony eyed. Clear signs of being... inhuman. Best given to someone trained in the martial craft. It is this elixir that gave rise to the old Death Knights... not that you'd know what those are."

"Lastly, and certainly not least..." The last vial is offered forth for my inspection. The vial is clear, almost invisible, and within seems to be a mist rather than a liquid. "Vapor of Souls. Give it to one of the living, and their soul will be torn from their body, then bound in the form of a wraith, powerful ethereal spirits. One might consider them the spies and assassins of the undead. Quiet as a whisper, and capable of stealing the very breath from the living. They are weaker in open combat, however, as suffocation takes time and concentration. Perhaps most importantly, it is very easy to identify a wraith as being unnatural."

Each elixir is held floating in front of me as Galdrick floats back up to his usual height, returning to his arrogant posture. It seems he's content to leave the matter for my consideration.

"Remember, only one. Those are precious, and we haven't got much of those left. I wouldn't advise drinking them yourself, either, it would just waste the potion. There is no higher form of undead than a necromancer."

I wave away the ghost's concern, eyeing each critically. They'd all be useful, in their own ways, and I don't want to make a choice without proper consideration. Silence descends as I regard each, weighing my options, and perhaps just to break the silence, I feel a question that's been eating at me burst from my lips.

"Galdrick, shouldn't you know who I am? Surely, with all those deaths, someone should know who I am?"

Silence greets my question for a moment, then a ghostly sigh. Galdrick floats back down, actually coming down to my level to regard me head on. His change in demeanor steals my attention, and all thoughts of potions gone as his intense gaze becomes apparent.

"I can offer only a name and a scrap of your past. It won't be much, for the Lord of the Dead does not like meddling within the affairs of the deceased. But you are owed more than just being thrust into the world. If that's acceptable, then I shall tell you."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. A name is better than nothing, and I will gladly take whatever scraps of my past I can gather together.

"As you wish. Your name is..."

>Name Yourself, and select a fragment/family name:

>House Cambrin, a noble house.
>Westlin, a merchant family
>Lavril, a servant family

>Select a boon:
>Tonic of Vamyrism
>Death's Embrace
>Vapor of Souls

Seras of House Cambrin.

For the potion, let us go with Death´s Embrace. With the Vampyre one you´d need to have a volunteer or it might backfire, i think, whilst the Vapors sound a bit too brutal for a new Necromancer

>And you should be grateful for it, normally such things aren't handed out so freely, especially such precious methods of creating higher undead
As I understand it, I am your greatest and possibly last chance at changing the status quo and bringing about the change you want. Any boons or gifts offered are in your own self interest, not mere generosity.

>potions
These all seem dependent on a human. How important is their personality or cooperation? Will the vampire or death knight or wraith be that person transformed, or a new being made from the old?

Do I command or control these creatures, or do I need their loyalty? (In the later case, vetting an appropriate candidate is much more important).

Might depend on the answers to that, but if we want stealth, vampire seems the way to go.

>Lavril, a servant family

Take the Vampyr Tonic or the Vapor of Souls. You're on the lam, so your first servant should be someone who is versatile at retreating from a pack of hunters.

Alleycat, a Lavril servantgirl.

"You are Seras Lavril."

Those words are enough. The minute I hear the name, vague memories just out of reach sharpen into focus. They are few and far between, but already I feel more whole somehow. Flashes of days spent seated in a room, being taught proper etiquette and manners for one of my station. Early mornings spent preparing the household for my masters, leading into late nights cleaning up the aftermath. Learning to be present but unnoticed, necessary but never acknowledged. My life was spent in in the shadow of nobility, though to who exactly and my exact duties continue to elude my mental grasp.

Galdrick remains quiet as the flashes of memory fade from my thoughts, giving me a few moments to gather myself. I find as I recenter myself that I'm unconsciously standing "properly", feet and legs together and perfectly straight, hands folded behind my back, Lantern dangling behind me. The stance of a servant.

"I see you remember a bit of yourself."

"It would seem so."

I return my attention to the elixirs that float before me, and tentatively take the Tonic from its place. The vial fits easily into the palm of my hand, and before I can say anything else the other two vanish back into Galdrick's body.

"You would think, me being your best and last hope, that I'd receive more than a single elixir. Anything given is in your own self interest, after all."

"Hardly. It is a miracle I am even allowed to handle such precious things. That vial you have is the last one its kind in our possession. Risking three such treasures on a single untested necromancer is asking for disaster. Perhaps, in time, you shall earn the others."

"A fair bargain, if unwelcome. Is this Tonic simply a transformation, or is a new person made of the old?"

"It is simply a transformation. The vampyre lord will retain all their old memories and talents. Of course, regardless of previous loyalties, they will be completely at your mercy, incapable of resisting your commands. Nor will they be able to harm you of their own free will. You are a necromancer after all. A fair word of warning, vampyres may require blood, but only rarely to sustain themselves, and not at all if you choose to allow them to subsist upon the light of the Lantern. Abstaining, however, may prove... difficult... for the recently turned."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Perhaps due to my thirst for knowledge being quenched somewhat, I finally take a proper moment to examine my own appearance. I am wearing what could be kindly described as a ragged set of traveling robes, from all appearance having seen far better days. Still, it has a few pockets at least, and the sleeves are such that I can probably hide the Lantern from casual observation. For the moment, the Tonic is slipped into a pocket for safekeeping, until such a time as it can be put to use. My ebony hair is longer than I remember it, vague memories suggesting having long hair had been a hassle in my daily life, but if I feel the need to return it to its original length, that can be done elsewhere.

Galdrick has returned to his original hovering height, watching me quietly as I settle once more and return my attention to him. His form is curiously fading, and he seems to note my sudden acknowledgement of his predicament, as he addresses me once more.

"I haven't long to stay in the land of the living. I can offer now only a few more answers, as well as direction. To the northwest lies the land of Valor, God of Courage, Honor and Martial Skill. To the southwest lies the land of Wisdom, Goddess of Knowledge, Alchemy and what passes for Magic. Either would be an excellent choice as a first target.

"The Gods are... wary of the Lantern, but as they banished it without following its path, they can't know exactly where it is. So long as you keep your activities from the public eye, you should be safe to move as you wish.

"As a final piece of free advice, before you ask any questions you may have, seek out the main church in any major cities you come across. They should have Lighthouses within them as well. They won't be as large as the main churches to each god, or the Grand Chapel in the the capital, but they should still be potent enough to feed the Lantern and restore some of its lost power.

"Quickly now, ask your questions, and I shall answer what I can before I make my return to the Land of the Dead."

>Ask about _

>Valor is your target
>Wisdom is your target

>Learning to be present but unnoticed, necessary but never acknowledged.
A good skill if we're going to be attempting to operate under the radar while our power is low.

And honestly, it's probably a good thing if we're of a frame of mind where we expect the lord of the dead to treat us as a necessary servant instead of showering us in praise or reward. I doubt either will come in great quantities.

>The vampyre lord will retain all their old memories and talents.
That creates an interesting problem. Obviously, we need a useful and strong ally as quickly as we can get one, but we need to balance that against trying to find a suitable host with a useful personality and skillset. Preferably one who would be inclined to aid us of their own will, beyond what we compel them to do.

A minion we can only trust to be loyal to the letter of our orders and nothing more, for example, is a disaster waiting to happen.

We'll have to be on the lookout for potential recruits.

>Ask about _
What kind of defenses can I expect at the churches and lighthouses? There will be more obstacles before me than mortal men, I assume?

Are you able to tell how much light I currently have in my lantern, or how long it will last? How immediately I require additional souls to survive factors rather pressingly in any plans I might make.

>Wisdom is your target
Honestly seems more suited towards our current skill set and slight bias for stealth.

"... Do I still have sensation in my breasts."

Go to Valor, find the curious and the wanting. Sucker a noble lady and feed her the tonic. Then smash and grab the lighthouse.

"What kind of defenses can I expect at the churches and lighthouses? There will be more obstacles before me than mortal men, I assume?"

"Eventually, perhaps. Paladins shall be the most relevant and immediate threat to you. Though they may not know it, you are exactly the kind of person they were made to fight. They are zealots, and few, if any, have ever turned from their ideals. Before your paladin, in any case. Other obstacles that may stand in your path are unknown to us, the same for future threats. Know this, if nothing else: The gods will not look kindly on their power being stripped from them, and will eventually see fit to intervene in some manner or another. Even now, some move to defend themselves and reinforce their churches."

Galdrick's form fades, becoming almost invisible to my eyes. Before he fades completely from view, I manage one final question.

"How long can my Lantern last before I must take more life?"

"You will know. Your connection with the Lantern is weak, but soon you will be able to understand it as easily as you understand yourself."

And then he is gone. That last answer was hardly an answer at all, and does me little good, seeing as I hardly understand myself. Something, however, whispers to me that he isn't wrong. While the answer to my question might elude me now, soon I'll know. Patience is all that is required, and if nothing else, a servant learns patience.

With little else to hold me here, and with a destination already in mind, I begin my journey southwest, towards the lands of Wisdom. Perhaps there, among a place renowned for its knowledge, I can find more answers and hopefully gain more power in my search for the paladin and my own history.

"You are without knowledge."

"I shall teach you."

"You are without direction."

"I shall guide you."

"You are without understanding."

"I shall be your Wisdom."

-First words of Wisdom, Goddess Knowledge and Magic

This city, MY city, is the greatest collection of magi, alchemists, artificers and scholars the world has ever seen. Knowledge of all kinds can be found within its walls, among its colleges and libraries, ripe for the taking. Even my own considerable intellect is available to those few I have deemed worthy enough to receive it, particularly in the pursuit of some new aspect of the world. There is nothing in this world that has not been studied by those in my city, and through them that has not been studied by me. Yet, even with all that knowledge at my fingertips, the very power of a god at my beckoning...

Still, the Lanterns deny me their secrets.

I have studies them before. Since the dawn of this new era, I have poked and prodded in every conceivable way, inquired of sages of all kinds, I have even subjected one to the smallest fraction of my might, and still nothing.

I was denied my requests to study them further by my so called brethren. All have been wrested from me, in the name of safety. All have been sequestered away, scattered to vaults and other places of secrecy, all to keep any would be enemies from acquiring them. We had thought we found them all, safely locked away where none would find them. I had despaired of ever having the chance to study one again.

Then he came, the closest any has ever gotten to slaying a god. With him, an opportunity. I can only hope that the Lantern passes into my lands, that it dares seek my places of worship.

For then I shall have my chance.

I WILL seize it.

I stand at the forest's edge, eyeing the small group of buildings beyond, and the wooden wall that surrounds them. I can just make out a single figure, standing at the top of what appears to be a platform that sits level with the top of the wall. While thankful I'd discovered the village, I'm surprised I would encounter one so soon. I'd expected to have to scrounge for food among the foliage, or perhaps even go days without, but it would seem such is not necessary. These leaves me with a different set of problems, however.

While I don't relish the idea of spending my first night returned to life sleeping under a tree, I doubt the village would simply allow me to wander into their town without reason. I am almost certain to arouse suspicion, all the more so for being a woman on her own and with such a worn appearance. If I wish to gain entry, I shall have to come up with a reasonable excuse as to my predicament, alone and unaccompanied by someone more well armed.

Of course... there may be a chance to remedy that. There is a small cemetery, a little ways away from the village itself. I could easily slip in at night and attempt to raise one of its occupants, disguising them as my escort somehow. While not the most ideal plan... it has at least some merit. Some barely remembered memory suggests that peasantry, in the few times I've dealt with them, were not exactly the most hygienic individuals, to put it mildly.

Though I suppose I could just bypass the village altogether. While not the most ideal, particularly as lacking in proper supplies as I am, it is still possible for me to follow the road and make it to some other village or town.

>Ransack the cemetery(Raise Dead)
>Craft a deception(Lie:_)
>Claim amnesia(Half-Truth)
>Bypass village(Leave)
>Other:_

>the greatest collection of magi, alchemists, artificers and scholars the world has ever seen
Cool, we can get a vampire with casting levels as soon as they're turned.

>what do with town
I'm glad "kill them all for their souls and raise an army" isn't your first thought.

>Ransack the cemetery(Raise Dead)
>disguise corpse as a guardian
I see a lot of ways that could go wrong. What happens when you're offered hospitality and your guardian can't eat? We don't really have any spare robes or other concealing stuff to wrap the walking corpse in. They'll stand out a lot if they've decomposed. If we get a fresh corpse, they'll still stand out wearing the formal or ceremonial clothes they were buried in. Worse, if this is a small town, your minion could be recognized.

>Bypass village(Leave)
Also not the best idea. If we're going to be clumsily figuring out how to hide what we are and interact with people, we're better off experimenting in a small town on the outskirts of things like this. The potential consequences are less than if we blew our cover somewhere more connected.

>Claim amnesia(Half-Truth)
Might work? A woman, wandering alone and poorly clothed in the wilderness. Clearly something bad happened to you, even if you can't remember what, at the moment.

Does this town have a church? Seems a logical place to take a desperate wanderer in for the night. Might give us a chance to tap it with the lantern.

Considering my options, I eventually find fault with all but one. Even then, it is simply that it is the least likely to fail me, and at least partially true. With a deep breath to steady my nerves, I step forth from the masking presence of the trees and make my way towards the crude gate to the community.

It's no surprise the single guard spots me fairly quickly, and raises a small shout of alarm, likely to alert others to my presence. When I do reach the gate, I find myself greeted by a group of men, each bearing simple armor and spears. An older man steps out from his fellows as I halt a decent, and hopefully non-threatening, distance away.

"Who are you then? Some new attempt by them raiders to take what's ours?"

I blink in surprise. I wasn't expecting to be accused of trickery, or being allied with brigands. Regardless, I recover quickly, and push what I hope is a decent amount of confusion and uncertainty into my voice.

"I... I don't think I am? I can't remember. Something happened, and I can't seem to recall where I am, or why."

"Hm. Unlikely, we ain't expectin any caravans, not with everything getting attacked the minute it so much as smells of trade goods." The man's words make it seem unlikely to budge on his stance, though I note his eyes flicker across my appearance with some measure of concern. Even if his words profess one thing, it would seem some bit of him compels him to show some decency.

"Please, just... some food and water then, and I shall leave."

A bargain. Even if I can't enter the village, food and water would be a step up from what I have. My words elicit a murmur from the group of men behind him, and though I can't make out anything specific, it sounds like they are unwilling to turn me away. Their leader, however much he might want to, remains pragmatic, however. Likely someone who expects foul play where others see only a woman in need.

"Quiet, the lot of you! Remember, them raiders got women among them. She could be one of theirs."

"But, she ain't got no weapons, an she's all alone!"

"Aye, that she is. But she ain't comin in here. Geoff, get to the inn, see to it your mother gets together some food an a skin of water. She can have that an be on her way."

The individual reluctantly heads off, whilst his fellows shuffle restlessly in place. Their leader seems intent on his path, and though it is inconvenient, I cannot fault him. I shall have to be content with what I aid I receive. A few minutes later, the runner returns, though with a notable lack of goods and the even more notable presence of a woman, who is looking what could be generously described as furious.

"Clark, ya daft fool! Let that poor woman in here right now, or I swear to Wisdom herself ya'll be sleeping in the stable!"

The older man, Clark I would presume, looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here, but turn to face the oncoming harbinger of his fate. Credit where it is due, he manages to open his mouth before any response he might have had is completely overridden, his every attempt ignored in favor of this woman breezing past him and towards me. I find myself considering fleeing at this woman's speed and sense of purpose, but hardly get the chance to before I am seized and held at arms length for inspection.

"There now, ya ain't gotta worry bout a thing. We'll make sure ya get a good bed an a proper meal in ya. Dear me, yer practically skin and bones. Come come, we'd best get inside an see to yer comfort. Geoff, ya come along too, I'mma need the extra hands fer dinner tonight."

"Yes ma."

The runner, who upon closer inspection seems to only just be reaching the age of adulthood, follows along behind us as I am bustled into the village proper and quickly led into one of the larger buildings. Within, I find a reasonably comfortable air, a good number of patrons already seated at tables, nursing drinks and chatting among themselves. I'm unceremoniously deposited into an empty stool at the inn's counter, and mere moments later a meal is placed before me. I couldn't say it was the most appetizing I'd ever laid eyes on, but as my first meal since being alive once more, I waste little time in digging in. I pause only when I realize the woman is staring at me with a look of amusement. I feel myself flush in embarrassment, internally chastising myself for forgetting my manners.

"Forgive me. Thank you for the meal, Miss...?"

"Ain't no miss here. Maybell is my name, and it's a pleasure to help someone in need."

"I am Seras."

"Fancy soundin name. Certainly not from the border towns. Ya don't recall what ya were up to out here?"

I glance up from my meal to find Maybell watching me with concern. Perhaps it's the complete trust the woman seems to have in me, but I feel somewhat terrible about lying to her. I take a moment to eat some more, using the few extra seconds to consider my response...

>I don't remember(Amnesia)
>I serve a noble(Servant)
>I remember a caravan(Lie)
>Other:_

>Ask about any churches
>Ask about _

>I don't remember(Amnesia)
>I serve a noble(Servant)
The easiest lies are mostly truth anyways.

You were a servant, but you don't know how you got here. You certainly never would have traveled alone...

Where is this, anyways?

You served a noble, but you were left for dead. Go into detail about how your head was used as a combo punching bag and that's the only thing you remember before you woke up in the mud with tattered rags and this stupid prank tied to your arm. Your lord likely thinks you have died by now, and you're useless to him with all the brain damage anyway.

Act like you made it up by putting the clues together. If your story is found out you can rehash it by excusing your assumptions.

"I was a servant. I can't recall why we were so far out. I can't imagine I would travel alone, either..."

"A servant? Like, to one of them nobles?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"Must be with that bloke out at the outpost. Can't rightly say what he wants out here either, but you must be with him though. Ain't no one else around these parts you could be with. Half a mind to go tell him off myself, noble or no. Leavin a pretty little thing like yerself all alone."

I think, perhaps, this might be getting just a bit out of hand, though the information is nice to know. Still, I think it best this conversation goes to a more immediately useful topic, rather than on things that currently have little value.

"Where is here, if I may ask?"

"Oh! This little village is Kinevale, farthest from the capital one can get in Wisdom's realm. Closest one'll get to Valor too, which is why we've been havin a bit of a raiding issue."

"I've heard mention of it."

"They've been hittin us for the last few weeks now. Not so much we're in danger of starvin, mind, but still, we can't tend to our crafts like this, an eventually we'll be forced out of our homes. Least if nothin is done about them bandits."

Any further conversation is interrupted as the door is shoved open, the man from before entering. He strides towards me, though with perhaps a bit of trepidation as he notices Maybell's scowl of annoyance. Instead of raising a fuss, however, he seats himself next to me, spear leaned against the counter. He addressed Maybell, ignoring me, which I suppose is all well and good, since I use the opportunity to take a few more bites of food.

"She spilled her story, yet?"

"SHE has a name. You'd do well to ask her about it, not ignore her like she don't exist."

The man flinches, but relents regardless, turning to me somewhat reluctantly. He looks about to say something, seems to think better of it, then starts again, managing to keep at least most of the suspicion from reaching his voice.

"I'm Clark, closest thing this town's got to a watch captain. An if'n you don't mind, I'd like to hear yer story."

"Seras. I'm a servant, for a noble family. That much I remember. Beyond that, I can tell you little."

"A servant? A noble servant, no less? An with a fancy name. Means yer not one of the hired help, yer the real thing."

"Think she might be with that fella you were talking about, up at the outpost."

"Is that so? Don't recall seein her, but don't mean much. If she is, means she'll know at least a bit of the Art."

Both turn to me expectantly, and I find myself wither somewhat under the scrutiny. Still, I consider the observation carefully, trying to dredge up still foggy memories in search of something that might tell me more.

>I know the Art(Truth, +1 Wisdom)
>I know the Art(Lie, Necromancy)
>I know nothing of the Art
>Nothing of the Art, but that Spear...(+1 Valor)
>Other:_

>Affinity Note: Affinity is a measure of your memories alignment with aspects of the world. Each chapter will have it's own set of affinities. In this chapter, your affinity will determine what grouping of noble houses you served in life. There are five in total, Valor, Wisdom, Compassion, Justice and Resolve. Some affinity choices will also unlock skills as well, such as the two represented above. One can use the Other option and suggest a different action, which may raise or lower a different affinity.

>Other
I know a different art...

Discovered by accident, your literal art can come to life. For like half a second. Or something. You're a beginner at an ability you don't understand and haven't any access to mentors for.

>"They've been hittin us for the last few weeks now. Not so much we're in danger of starvin, mind, but still, we can't tend to our crafts like this, an eventually we'll be forced out of our homes. Least if nothin is done about them bandits."
Well, there's a potential source of souls you might be able to harvest with little guilt.

>I know the Art(Truth, +1 Wisdom)
Wisdom seems the appropriate affinity for a servant and a truth seeker. We're thoughtful and clever first. (And as a bonus, if we know something of non-necromatic Art, that gives us something of a cover or face to hide our other magical activities under).

There is now a discussion/information thread, for those who are interested: https://tgchan.org/kusaba/questdis/res/112941.html

The Art.

Even as the word is considered, thought and memories begin to align. Lessons taught so long ago I can scarcely remember them float once more to the forefront of my thoughts.

The Art.

Magic.

I remember magic, like a familiar tune just once more reaching my ears. The tingle of it as I sense magic on my skin once again. It exists all around us, and is as irreplaceable as air or water. Some bit of me feels whole once more, finding something I didn't even know I'd lost.

Memories come once more, only now, they are of a childhood I only now recall. At the tender age of five, my first lesson on magic. A classroom, filled with children ranging from four to seven, all members of the servant families. A woman stand at the front of the class, words unheard within memory but their meaning dredged once more from my foggy mind.

Arcane. Some argue it as the most pure of all magic. Perhaps it is, perhaps not. Regardless, it is the arcane mages who unlock the secrets of being one place then another, of being unseen and unheard, of manipulating time itself. Whilst the noble houses rarely become Arcanists, the servant families find it far more useful in their duties, and are known for using it to the betterment of their masters.

Alchemy. Some argue it is not true magic at all. Some would be ignorant fools. Through carefully prepared regents and dedicated study, magic can be made into material forms. Regenerative potions and curing elixirs may be the most well known, but explosive concoctions and deadly poisons can also be crafted. The use of such skills for a noble are endless and often appreciated.

Healing. Though it is Compassion and not Wisdom that claims this magic, it is still studied extensively within the latter's domain. Many flock to those who have mastered even the simplest of its ways, for who else can save an ailing village from disease. Resurrection is beyond the scopes of such magic, but the healing of wounds, treatment of illness and care of patients is a valuable Art, nonetheless.

>Which Art so caught my attention as a young girl?

>Arcane: Manipulation of Space, Time and Perception
>Alchemy: Creation of potions of all kinds (+2 Compassion, +1 Justice, -2 Resolve)
>Healing: Treatment of wounds, illness and poisons (-3 Compassion, +2 Valor)

Alchemist - why else did that ghost give you a choice from three legendary-class potions instead of, say, a champion-class guardian?

I´d say, go Arcane. We shall use it to support our undead servants by long range attacks

>>810747
Arcane magic.

(Interesting that healing is negatively associated with compassion).

I can feel it, my excitement as a child at the mere thought that I might be able to steal away from harsh lessons and harsher teachers, just by knowing how to make them not see me. I learned quickly that such was of little help when one barely knew the barest hints of magic, but still the wonder of the arcane fascinated. Space and time became, at least in some measure, a plaything to whittle away the hours of my younger years. To this day, the mysteries of the arcane still draw my attention as nothing else can.

>Spells Unlocked
>Magic Missile: A spell nearly all magi can do with practiced ease. It is the simple action of hurling raw magic at an enemy, and can successfully be done by a child throwing a fit.
>Blink: The very first truly Arcane spell, it simply allows a mage to be one place then be another, as fast as one might blink. Though short range, it's usefulness is not to be underestimated.
>Hold: Taught almost side by side with Blink, Hold locks an object in place. Most often this is applied to doors, windows and other portals to deny entry, though it can be applied to a living being as well at more cost to the caster.

I finally rouse from my musing and memories to find both Clark and Maybell watching me. Clark seems annoyed and a bit impatient, whilst Maybell has naked concern in her eyes. Still, both expressions light up in pleased surprise as I finally give a reply to the former's question.

"I do know the Art, yes."

"Hot damn. We might just be able to pull our plan off after all."

"Yer still on about that scheme of yers? An worse, ya want to drag her into it?"

"Only chance we got, Maybell. Least we can try now."

"Plan?"

My words halt any further argument, and while Maybell seems displeased at the whole thing, she backs off enough to let Clark take control of the conversation and explain what his plan is.

"See, some of the lads found where them raiders have been holed up. Couple of miles deeper into the forest. Now, we ain't got much chance against them ourselves, despite havin more men, them raiders are Valor folk. But I reckon if we have you with use, we'll be able to fight em. Magic'll give us a fightin chance, even better if ya can roast a bunch in one go."

Roast? I am fairly sure that this man has a skewed knowledge of magic and its function. More importantly, he seems to believe me capable of something I am decidedly not. Mage I may be, but I am not even an apprentice level in elemental magic. Such isn't even something generally taught to servants. Still, I suppose the peasantry would not understand the differences. A mage is a mage to them, and while I may not be able to set anyone on fire, it is likely even the small magical power I've regained could be useful.

Then again, there's nothing saying I even need the villagers to come. While I am loath to waste tame, I do have the powers granted to me by the Lantern. Given bodies, I could easily raise a force of my own, and deal with the bandits myself. That carries the risk of discovery however...

>Agree to help with Clark's plan
>Offer to deal with the problem myself
>Refuse aid entirely
>Other:

>Offer to deal with the problem myself
Claim that you have the tools to "scare them off", you just need a distraction. A simple illusion of an undead demon murdermachine horde from hell that passes through blades, and those bandits will run before they can think, but it takes time.

And then you raise the dead and send them forward, out into the woods where they will wait for you to leave the town and take the reins.

Well here's an important consideration before you decide. The lantern collects souls. We can kill victims with a touch. But if someone dies near us, can we still collect? If so, then does the lantern leave a visible effect? (Can you sense anything about how collection works from your connection yet)?

If we can collect souls that die near us, mortals accompanying us isn't so bad. If it's flashy, we're gonna out ourselves though.

We might be able to pass the killing with a touch off as a different magic, especially if we covered it up by also hitting them with a magic missile.

Biggest risk is if a lone girl goes off into the forest and kills an entire bandit camp, that raises attention / will spread a story. And if we raise a good chunk of the graveyard to do it, I don't see how we don't leave a bunch of disturbed earth as evidence.

>Magic'll give us a fightin chance, even better if ya can roast a bunch in one go
I am a servant, not a battle mage, I'm afraid. I have no mastery over fire. I can seal a door, move myself a short distance, or act something like an archer without need for a bow.

(If he's the commander here, he needs a reasonable expectation as to what we're capable of (of at least, what we're willing to admit to being capable of) for him to plan any kind of attack correctly).

We might want to stall or rest first (we have been traveling all day, right?) but I'm leaning towards agreeing to help.

Question I don't have the answers to linger in my mind, making me hesitant to agree to the man's proposal outright, even if I am inclined to agree. I still know very little about the powers of the Lantern, or the rules that govern the stealing of light. Even as I try to reach out and feel for the answers, the connection remains stubbornly silent. Perhaps, however, some time to rest and collect myself will help. It certainly could not hurt, in any case. Besides which, there is the more pressing concern of this man's misguided thoughts on my ability.

"I am a servant, not a battle mage, I'm afraid. I have no mastery over fire. I can seal a door, move myself a short distance, or act something like an archer without need for a bow. Little that could slay many at once."

"That's... not what I was expectin, to be honest, but any magic'll be better than none."

"Be that as it may, I doubt very much I'd be of any use at all right now. I am tired and unsure how long it's been since I've had proper rest."

"But we don't have the time to-"

"Shove off, Clark. I see ya forcing the girl into anything, I'll set the dogs on ya." Maybell, five bless her, forces her way into the conversation once more, deflecting the man's attempts to get me to reconsider. "She's had a rough time of it as it is, don't need you makin it worse. You can stay in one of the rooms here, dear, free of charge. I'll see about finding you somethin a bit better to wear as well. Might not have any fancy stuff, but we do have cloth that doesn't look like ya just pulled it out of a grave."

I almost flinch at the mention, but manage to catch myself in time. The woman is far closer to the mark than she realizes, though I don't think I'll ever let her know how close. I appreciate the sentiment however, and even a peasant's attire is preferable to my own. There is still the matter of hiding the Lantern from sight, however.

"If I may make a request, it would be appreciated if it was of similar design as this."

"Too long sleeves an robe like?"

"Yes."

"... Well, can't say that ain't eccentric, but I'm sure we can scrounge up somethin. Bit early for sleep, but if you're wanting rest, ya can head on upstairs. First door on the left. If ya feel like sticking around, I'm sure the townsfolk'll be happy to have a new face around. Just be mindful of some of the younger men. New girl in town is sure to attract attention, eh?"

Maybell gives me a grin, and though her warning is of little concern to me, as I doubt any would be worth my attention, even less so as they are not from a fellow servant family, her words are worthy of consideration. I could retire to my newly acquired room, but I could also make my way about town if I so choose. A quick inquiry of the innkeeper returns a small list of places I might find interesting, though a few require money that I do not posses. I could also go examine the graveyard, though I'm sure that would attract at least some measure of notice.

>Retire for the day
>Talk to some of the inn patrons
>Investigate the local shrine
>Visit the herbalist
>Visit the general store
>Inspect the graveyard
>Other:

>five bless her
Hmmm. Can you still invoke the blessings of the five when they all want you dead and you've been charged with tearing them down?

>even a peasant's attire is preferable to my own
It will also help you blend in. In peasant territory, at least, you won't look out of place. Might need something else to not stand out in say, Wisdom's capital.

>Just be mindful of some of the younger men
Little soon to be breaking the new body in. And it would be hard to explain away the lantern if clothes came off.

>even less so as they are not from a fellow servant family
I'm not sure family station is going to be terribly important in your future. It's not as if you can really remember them right now, and it's not as if continuing on as you were before is an option. (Although it would be kind of funny if the fives' paladins finally tracked down the dread necromancer... living a perfectly ordinary servant's life).

>herbalist or store
Hmmm. We don't exactly have any coin. Or anything to barter or trade with.

>Talk to some of the inn patrons
Why not. We can learn some more, and maybe they'll say some things that trip some memories.

Go to sleep; you're still drowzy from the recent undeath.

I suddenly realize, perhaps with a bit of bemusement, that I probably shouldn't be invoking the blessings of the five. While unlikely to attract any real attention, after all, I am certainly not a particular devoted worshiper of any of them(or at least, I don't remember being so), it couldn't hurt to avoid doing so in the future.

Still, despite the general fatigue I feel from everything that's happened, I decide to stay and chat with a few of the locals before turning in for a well deserved nap. I quickly begin making my way around the room. Overall, the room is divided in half in terms of how they react to me. One side seems happy to talk to a new face, telling me of stories that mean little to me or various tidbits about themselves or the village. The other half are wary, though not outright hostile, and though a few warm up in the few minutes I spend with them, others remain neutral to me at best. In the end, I pick up only a few interesting rumors and facts in the hour I spend at the task.

-The locals are known mainly for fur and lumber, which is traded at the Arcadia Outpost, a research and administration center for the region.
-As of the last visit, there's a noble of some kind visiting the outpost. His name and disposition are unknown, but he didn't seem intent on leaving anytime soon.
-Deeper into the forest, there's an old ruin. There have always been rumors of spirits dwelling within, as far back as anyone can remember, though it has apparently been declared off limits by Wisdom herself just as long.

I could perhaps obtain more information, but I find myself finding rest more and more desirable. It has been a long time since I've actually felt sleep. It couldn't hurt to reacquaint myself with the pastime. I make my way up the stairs and into the first room on the left, as instructed. There's a simple bolt on the door, which I push into place before drawing forth the Lantern from within my sleeve. It's light seems to fill the room with an almost gentle glow, and despite the fact that it is quite literally chained to me, something about it is comforting.

Almost without realizing it, I find myself laying in the meager bed, the Lantern held close to my chest. It is a bit odd, knowing without a doubt that my own soul is held within, but I am glad of it, at a chance at life once more. I shall have to guard this life more carefully than I did the last.

With that last thought, I feel welcoming darkness of sleep overtaking me.

----------

I awaken as I always have, much earlier than any others. I am quick to don proper clothing, prepare myself for the day ahead and briefly check myself in the mirror that I had been granted only just last summer. My hair seems to be getting a bit long... I shall have to see to it it is cut once again before the end of the week. Then I am off, footfalls soft upon the carpeted rugs that adorn the hallways. The other Servants are busy as well, I can see the marks of their passage already, and hear signs of their activity in some rooms as I pass. I have my own task to see to every morning, however.

>Preparing the study. Research can start at any time, and mustn't be delayed. (+2 Wisdom)
>The house soldiers must be made ready for morning inspection, at once. (+2 Valor)
>The stores must be checked and restocked. It wouldn't do to lack medicine for the sick.(+2 Compassion)
>The day's cases must be divided by order of importance, wouldn't do to waste time with cases unbecoming of a noble.(+2 Justice)
>Injury or not, the sparring pit must be prepared for the master's daily routine. He will not be allowing an injury to impede upon his schedule.(+2 Resolve)

>Injury or not, the sparring pit must be prepared for the master's daily routine. He will not be allowing an injury to impede upon his schedule.(+2 Resolve)
"Oops."

>Preparing the study. Research can start at any time, and mustn't be delayed. (+2 Wisdom)

I blink down the halls, making my way swiftly through the mansion to the study. The master, despite his tendency for late nights and late morning, can often be found waking early if some dream inspires his research. Still, as I reach the entryway to the study, I find myself pausing, my hand on the handle. Something about this all seems... strange. Off. Like I'm not noticing something I should...

Before I can think on the matter further, a voice comes from within, interrupting my chain of thought completely.

"Seras? Come in, quickly girl! I've made a rather marvelous discovery!"

I enter without further hesitation, my eyes taking in the room. The walls are filled with books, of all kinds and on hundreds of subjects. More are stacked haphazardly around the room, unsorted despite my continued efforts to do so. My master seems so intent upon finding more books to add to his collection, it makes my life rather difficult. The man himself is seated at his desk, cluttered with open tomes and parchment scribbled with words and phrases that hardly make sense to me. Even as I blink to him, weaving through the stacks, he continues scribbling on yet more parchment, tossing some aside as he finishes with them.

"Seras, my girl, it's astounding what I've found. Truly astounding."

I begin to reply, only to suddenly stutter to a halt the image flickers before my eyes and for a moment, just a moment, I see a strange yet oddly comforting glow fill the room. My master frowns as he notices my look of confusion, concern growing on his face.

"My girl? Is something the matter?"

>_

"I... have the oddest sense of déjà vu, milord."

Either the lantern is doing something, or the gods are trying to spy on our dreams. Maybe both.

ENHANCE KNOCKERS because dream logic

"I... have the oddest sense of déjà vu, milord."

"Is that so, Seras? Hm... interesting... regardless, my research simply cannot wait."

My master starts collecting up tomes and parchment, muttering to himself, but I fail to follow what he's saying. Instead, I find myself searching and finding things that are... wrong. I slide over to a stack of books and find something labeled "Fundamentals of Stellar Magicks", but I've never heard seen or heard the word stellar before, not in all my years of study. I don't think I've ever seen a single book on the subject at all, before now. My master's voice cuts through my confusion, drawing me back to my duties.

"Ah, a fascinating subject, that. Study of the stars is a oft overlooked one, though I'm sure not many think so. Best left alone, some might say."

"... Stars?"

"Oh? You must know what a star is, Seras, very difficult to miss, stars."

"I... don't know what that is, milord."

The man halts in his work, arms loaded with parchment and books, looking at me with a face I can only describe as a curious mix of horrified and speculative. He just stands there for a few moment, his mouth moving but no sound issuing forth, even as the image around me flickers again and that familiar glow fills the room for a scant moment. Then he seems to rally, albeit with a bit of difficulty.

"Oh dear. This is no good. No good at all. It seems... yes, perhaps it would be best to skip the research... oh, but blast it all, it can't be ignored so easily... damned if I do, damned if I don't..."

My master continues like this, seemingly paying me no mind. I find myself conflicted, as my eyes cast about the room I find more and more with which I'm unfamiliar. An odd parchment hanging from the wall seems to depict an uncountable number of dots, marked as a "star" chart. Books surrounding me have titles that continue to list unfamiliar terms, or in some cases, seem to consider themselves first editions of books I know to be thousands of years old, at least.

I... I find myself lost.

>Ignore it all, continue as if it doesn't matter. Duty before everything(+5 Resolve)
>There are questions here, questions that need answering. Ask: (+1 Wisdom)

>stars
Have you never seen the sky at night? Or have you memories left you? (Or are the stars obscured or hidden in some way)?

...is this perhaps not a memory of a library, but the library of your memories itself?

>>There are questions here, questions that need answering. Ask: (+1 Wisdom)
You speak as if these stars are commonplace, but I know them not. How can this be? Something is wrong here, master.

Of course I've seen the night sky. Even with my memories in disarray and only barely remembered, I have memories of watching the moon during quiet moments. It is as it always was, a blackness with only the moon and its light to fill the void, except perhaps when it is cloudy out. Just as the sun exists within the endless blue expanse of the sky during the day. Why would these... "stars"... even be in the sky? There's no reason for anything to be in the sky except the sun and moon.

Which makes it all the more distressing that I am considering it, and even more so that the master finds it distressing.

"You speak as if these stars are commonplace, but I know them not. How can this be? Something is wrong here, master."

"I am forced to agree, Seras. Something is very, very wrong. If you don't know what stars are... something is very wrong indeed."

His form flickers again, this time for longer, the familiar glow taking up everything around you, and you feel like you're putting pieces together. Or maybe remembering a piece that always was. When the image returns, you glance down and note the Lantern once more, chain wrapped around your arm. The master notices it as well, and goes pale, murmuring distractedly.

"Oh dear... oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. This is... a trifle overwhelming. Blast it all, why must it be so unhelpful, and at the worst of times... You truly don't remember stars? At all? Not even a hint?"

"There are no such thing, milord."

"Oh dear indeed... It picked a sharp one this time, didn't it? Very perceptive. This would be good, only... how long has it been?"

"Milord?"

"Oh dear... that is certainly not good at all. Come, child, sit. Quickly, we haven't got much time."

The master pushes a pile of books off a chair, dusting it lightly before gesturing for me to sit. As I do so, he rushes around the study, collecting tomes and books rapidly, murmuring to himself and tracing words in each before tossing them aside recklessly. Soon, he starts to pace before me, a single tome in his hands, looking very worried.

"This is certainly not what I expected, I hope you understand. But there are rules, rules which, admittedly, I helped fashion. Dumping too much information on someone not ready is... usually very bad. Still, I can offer something at least. Normally, I would be giving you information on... well... that-" With this he gestures to the Lantern, "-but seeing as something seems to have gone very wrong... I've managed to... shall we say, collect a bit more information than I would otherwise be privy to. Very delicate work, that, particularly with so little known about the outside, but... others have been helpful, and may continue to be so. I offer a choice. One you'll have to make. And make swiftly.

"First, I can do as I intended, and grant you information on what you are now tethered to... quite shoddy work I might add. Whoever did it had little knowledge of what they were doing.

"Second, I could grant you lost lore, something... well, if I'm correct, it's something you would never find outside of here, I might think. Truly lost lore... I only hope I am incorrect.

"Last, I could... work some of my magic, through you, and retrieve some knowledge some might consider forbidden. Useful, I think, to your immediate situation, and not strictly speaking unobtainable on your own, but... difficult, otherwise.

"Hurry now child. Don't know how long we've got. The Lantern is weak as it is. Far weaker than I remember."

>I don't understand. What is going on? What do you mean?
>Lantern Lore
>Lost Lore
>Forbidden Lore
>Ask:_

This would seem to be some natural process of the lantern. It hijacks your dreams, and allows you contact with a teacher.

But something has gone wrong. Perhaps because the lantern is so low on power, perhaps because it has been so long since there last was a necromancer, perhaps because your paladin was never trained in the lore of the lantern, something has gone wrong.

Lantern Lore is the lowest priority, I think. We can learn it's operation the hard way, or convince the servants of the dead to part with additional information should they contact us again.

That means the question is do we prioritize what is truly unique and otherwise unobtainable, or do we prioritize that which may be more immediately useful?

>Lost Lore
Is my preference. You have a certain affinity for that which was lost returning, after all. And we are (allegedly) trying to restore an older order to the world. Let this lore be lost no longer.

>Ask:_
Who are you?

"Let this lore be lost no longer."

"So be it. Come, child. Stand with me, and close your eyes. This will only be a moment."

I stand, and the master steps up before me, taking my hands in his as my eyes close. An odd sensation fills the air and the feeling of falling reaches my stomach, but I dutifully keep my eyes closed. Nothing further seems to be happening, and just to fill the silence I begin to speak, questing for more information.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, an old memory, I should think. Of the Lantern's, in so much as it has a memory. But I've always thought of the Lantern as being alive, in its own way. How can it not be, containing so much power as it does? Hush now child, almost there."

I go silent once more, and then I feel as if I'm lying on my back, my hands at my sides instead of held in front of me. Grass tickles my skin, and a soft breeze sends the sound of rustling leaves to my ears. From somewhere behind me, the master speaks again, his voice low, barely more than a whisper.

"Open your eyes, child. See what there is to see."

I open my eyes, and what I see is beyond mere words.

The moon hangs in the sky, casting her pale, silvery light across the world. But all around her, instead of just the inky blackness, are uncountable lights, shimmering within the sky. Surrounded as it is, even the moon seems to shine brighter than anything in my memories. I stare up at them in wonder, awestruck by something so very alien and beautiful.

"Those, child, are stars. This is what the world seems to have lost. It was that every night the sky was filled with their shimmering glow. I cannot tell you how, or when, but something in the world changed, and the stars disappeared. Those answers you'll need to find yourself. There is more out there, more knowledge I can't give. But others can, or will be able to find the answers for you. Find the Ragman, first and foremost, if he yet lives. Trust no one's words but those you know to be true.

"Most of all, and the piece of lore you must take with you, remember that a River cannot paint the sky."

-----

I wake with a start, the glow of the Lantern the only source of light. I am covered with sweat and my hands are shaking, but I remember that dream, and I remember stars. Finally, my senses become aware of a sharp knock upon the door, and I stumble to my feet, pausing to tuck the Lantern away within the sleeves of my robes. I unlatch the door and step back, revealing Maybell with a plate of food in one hand and some clothes in the other.

"There ya are. Been knocking a few minutes now. Thought you'd be hungry, so I brought ya something to- By the five, what happened to ya? Nightmare?"

Her look of concern gives you pause, though I can't help but track the plate of food hungrily. I'd slept longer than anticipated it seems. Still, it would be remiss of me to simply ignore her concern.

"No, just a dream I didn't expect to be having."

"Remember anything?"

"Unfortunately, not."

Maybell finally hands over the food with a satisfied grin, though she seats herself on the bed next to me as I dig in ravenously. She watches me for a time before speaking up again, concern lacing her words.

"Now, I was just thinkin... I could use another hand around the place, an seein as ya lost yer memories an all, an have no place to go..."

I pause, realizing that Maybell is proposing I settle in the village more permanently, while the idea is sound for someone whose lost their memories, I have... different goals, and places I must go. More besides, I don't think I could picture myself living in a small village at the edge of the world.

"I'm afraid I don't think here is the best place for me."

"I figured as much." Maybell sighs, but rallies quickly. "Seein as that's the case, I managed to rustle up a bit better traveling clothes than that. Got long sleeves and everything, just as ya asked. By tomorrow I should have a bag ready, full of some stuff to keep you till Arcadia, at least. Course, if ya could find the time to help us with our bandit problem, I could get Clark to cough up some silver for ya."

I find myself liking Maybell, for someone whose known me for such a short time, she has been remarkably helpful. A far cry from home, where everyone was out for themselves and would rarely raise a finger to help. I blink slightly at the thought, before filing it away for consideration at another time. Seeing as it is just us two, perhaps now would be a good time to ask more questions, and decide my aim for tomorrow.

>Agree to help(+2 Valor)
>Agree to help for free(+2 Compassion, +2 Valor)
>Head for Arcadia
>Head elsewhere

>Ask:_

Oh that's hilarious.

The false gods have disrupted nature and are slowly killing the world, but the dead don't realize that something is fundamentally changing in the cosmos, and the heavens are the most qualified to react to it. Honestly, it sounds like you need to resolve a truce between both factions.

Agree to help. You have minions to harvest.

>"Most of all, and the piece of lore you must take with you, remember that a River cannot paint the sky."
So the lantern itself is telling us siding with the Lord of the Dead won't fix everything. Or perhaps not even the things we want to fix.

Which means we're going to have to find a third way, between the gods who have forsaken us, and the lord of the dead who tried to raise us to his cause. We're going to end up against everything aren't we? At least if we choose to walk the path of the stars.

>Agree to help for free(+2 Compassion, +2 Valor)
I can't accept that. It's hardly fair to repay your hospitality by asking for coin.

"I'll help. I can't accept your money, though, it's hardly fair to pay back your hospitality by asking for coin."

"Mighty kind of ya, Seras. Yer a fine mage, by my reckonin."

I could go into the intricacies of what differentiates a true mage from a servant like me, but I doubt the distinction would matter to Maybell. I take the compliment for what it is instead, and finish my meal quickly. The woman stands and makes her way towards the door, new clothing left on the bed for me.

"I'll let Clark know you'll be helpin tomorrow. Get a good nights rest, bandits or not, they're still Valor's bunch, an that means they'll be ready to fight."

Maybell leaves me with this, though I find myself disinclined to return to sleep. Despite my odd pseudo-dream I've awoken well rested. Perhaps a more substantial use of my time is in order. Though my combat abilities are few, with my ability to Blink I can quickly and easily traverse short distances, and it did not seem like these bandits were camping too far away. At the very least, I could inspect these bandits for myself. Of course, there are other, less dangerous ways I could spend my time, I suppose. Though I have the memory and knowledge of magic, it wouldn't hurt to get a feel for its use once more. Surely there are others that escape my immediate thoughts.

>Scout Bandit Camp
>Find a place to practice magic
>Other:

Practice magic.

Refamiliarizing yourself with your magical abilities might not be the worst idea.

Meditating on the lantern might grant you some insight into it, or your new abilities.

It's also possible you might gain some kind of application if you considered the lost lore you were granted. Some forgotten legacy of the stars.

Just remember to rest, eventually. It would not do to enter a dangerous situation tired tomorrow.

Practice of my magic is looking to be the best decision I can make. While tempting in its own way, scouting the bandit camp still has its inherent danger, and one I'd rather not risk quite yet. I leave the fresh clothes for later, keeping what I have on now as I will shortly be performing tasks that, whilst not physically exhaustive, will be taxing all the same. I descend to find the main hall empty save a few final patrons and Clark, who eyes me a moment before turning back to what he was doing. I exit swiftly, not keen on drawing attention to myself more than necessary. Much as the villagers seem to accept my presence, I don't particularly relish the thought of people watching my mediocre attempts at magic.

A quick look about and I decide outside the village is the best for my purposes. I would rather not startle the villagers, much less wake them at all. Thankfully, many of my abilities are not very flashy to look at, so I should be able to practice without causing undue chaos so long as I am a fair distance away. I quickly blink over the simple wooden wall and a small distance away before bringing myself to a halt. This should be sufficient distance to practice anything I might decide is worth my time. Which brings me to considering what I could attempt to practice.

Arcane magic, as my memory states, is divided into three rough categories of its own, Spatial, Temporal and Perceptive, though arcane magic is recognized as being more a blend of all three rather than being clearly divided. Devoting my time to one specific aspect will yield the best results, though I could try to mix aspects or even try something with the Lantern. I'll have to be sure to keep an eye on the time, simply so I am not exhausted come morning.

>Focus on Spatial magic
>Focus on Temporal magic
>Focus on Perceptive magic
>Meditate on the Lantern

>Roll D100 with your reply, and split time between each activity however you choose. The more time devoted to an activity, the more likely Seras will improve or discover something new.

rolled 71 = 71

---

50% Lantern
25% Spatial
25% Temporal

And PRETEND to work on Perceptive

rolled 84 = 84

---

>>813486
Perceptive seems the biggest ROI for now. Anything that grants us more awareness or useful intelligence will make stealth efforts in general easier, and will help make any attack on the bandits more effective.

>scouting risky
Hmm. If we had access to a dead bird, or insect, or rodent, we might be able to raise it as a pretty unobtrusive undead reconnaissance drone.

>71
I focus first on trying to flex my magical abilities a bit, grow more comfortable with them before putting them to the test. Blinking is easy, and comes incredibly naturally to me, whilst Holding things is... a bit harder, if only for the lack of any clear results. Temporal seems even less responsive, having no basis in my memory doesn't help matters, and I can't seem to push my magic to form into anything of use. The most I get is a sense of welling power, only for it to diffuse uselessly into the environment. I give up there as well, uninterested in wasting further time on the task.

Instead, I take a short break to rest and meditate on the Lantern. I stretch my magical sense towards the artifact, feeling where its magic joins with my own. Oddly, the two seem to keep themselves very distinct, at least until something within it seems to notice, for lack of a better word, that I am watching it. All of a sudden, a rush of magic pours from the Lantern and I find my magical overwhelmed and re-purposed. Just like that, suddenly I can feel the presence of death around me.

>Ability Gained
>Death Sense: With a little focus, Seras can now sense nearby corpses, spirits and the touch of death within a short distance around her.

>84
The new sense is daunting, but with it I can feel the presence of a number of usable corpses and bones around me. An idea comes, perhaps my earlier consideration of scouting does not have to be as risky as I thought. I throw myself once more into my arcane practice.

Perception is my focus now, exclusively, every inch of my magical might thrown into it, and perhaps because of that, I feel familiarity return to me. Memories come with them, of spying on teachers in my younger years, and watching important meetings as I grew older.

>Spell Unlocked
>Arcane Gaze: Seras ties the sight of one of her eyes to an object or person.

A relatively simple spell, which has its uses for a servant such as myself. More powerful versions exist, this I know, but I can't recall them. Still, this will still be useful. I test using a small rock, tying my right eye to the stone, and find it works as intended. Looking through my right eye I can view everything around it, though it is nauseating to be able to "turn" without actually turning. All that's left is to ensure it would work with a raised dead.

I blink closer to the forest's edge after dispelling my first use of Arcane Gaze, finding there are more corpses to use here than in the middle of the field. I can feel old bones deep beneath the earth, and fresher ones closer to the surface. I try searching for something like a bird, or rat of some kind, but I can't make out any particulars. Eventually, I pick something at random and reach for the Lantern's power. It's just meant as a test in any case.

Power rushes forth, feeling alien and deeply unsettling as I find I can feel the Lantern dim, my soul weakening suddenly. I nearly collapse, but I hold myself steady, and I watch with a mixture of horror and fascination as a dead bird, relatively fresh, reawakens, bloody wounds still clearly present. A few other dead animals awaken as well, assembling in some grim mockery of an aviary, some settling in the trees around me, others encircling me on the ground. Most unsettling of all is the power that sinks deep beneath the earth and rips bones from their rest. These bones erupt from the ground, reassembling themselves into a human skeleton, which stands before me and stares with its empty eye sockets, awaiting for whatever commands I might have for it.

I stand there in shock, noting only idly that the power seems to have run its course, and there seemed to be no more drain upon the Lantern's light. I'm not certain what I should do, now that I have an army of dead rodents and birds, not to mention a human Skeleton standing before me.

>Immediately dispel the magic. This is wrong, and should never have been done. (+5 Compassion, -2 Resolve)
>This is wrong, but my path has been decided. I will continue, no matter the price. (+2 Resolve, -2 Compassion)
>This is fascinating. The power to reverse the hold of death itself... (+1 Wisdom, -2 Compassion)

>_

Awesome.

Alright, clothe the skeleton in weathered rags and have him march with this army of rats and birds into the forest. Few armies can fight the plague.

>>813592
Consider your unfortunate creation. Does anything... human remain inside it? Is... there any spark of (un)life, or intelligence, of instinct or feeling, or it it an empty construct? An extension of your will?

Aiming for something curious and compassionate, here. Maybe sad, depending on what we find.

It's okay if we consider out creations to be wrong, but that sort of depends on what they are first.

I reach out with my will, and find this skeleton to house something within, almost like a very tiny Lantern. It doesn't seem to react in any way though, not even when I deliberately try to get something out of it. It doesn't defend itself, or follow my movements, or anything really. It simply stands there motionless. It really is a bit depressing, when all is said and done. In the end, despite the small trace of light within it, the skeleton seems little more than a construct, made of dead matter and slaved to my will.

Further tests prove it, and indeed all of the undead, do react to commands, both spoken and unspoken. I can, at the least, tell them to follow me, stay put, or even move to a specific spot or in a sort of patrol. I even use one of the undead rodents as a test subject and order the rest to attack it, which they do without hesitation, ripping it to pieces in moments. So at least they can be used to attack things. Another test proves they can be ordered to defend themselves when provoked, though they don't react at all when I test it using myself as the attacker.

What to do, now, however?

>_

>What to do, now, however?
How late is it? Do we need to return and get some sleep?

If there's still time, you could use your smaller minions to scout the bandits.

When we return to town, you might want the human skeleton to "play dead", just in case anyone finds it. (Fall over, and not respond to anything interacting with it until you say otherwise).

>>813960
use your small minions to scout the bandits. if there are few enough of them then ave your minions deal with them alone. after all you do need to charge the lantern

Dress the skeleton in rags, use it as a scout. If they spot it, have the zombie vermin act as cavalry and swarm.

It has only been a scant two hours, and I don't particularly feel the need for sleep quite yet. It may of course simply be a desire to see what else my power can do, but be that as it may, I won't forsake further testing just for that. Without wasting too much time, I identify a bird corpse that is still capable of flight and cast Arcane Gaze upon it, then send it off in the direction the bandits were supposed to be camping. Thanks in part to its ability to take to the skies and in equal parts to the relatively short distance between myself and their camp, I quickly find my target, and concentrate upon what I can see through my macabre puppet.

It seems that the bandits haven't posted any sort of guard, and though there are a few still up and about, most have bedded down. They probably feel, and rightly so, that none of the townsfolk would dare strike at them during the night. This means they are woefully unprepared for any sort of attack, and would likely be caught completely by surprise. I direct my puppet carefully, and manage to count a total of 20 members, though they are scattered between three different fires, and are asleep in bedrolls haphazardly placed about. I can't tell anything further about them in particular, even with the fires, it is difficult to make out anything.

Still, this leaves me with some things to consider. While risky, the bandits are close enough that I could attack them now. With the speed of raising the dead, even if I only kill a few in my initial assault, I could quickly overwhelm them. There is still the inherent risk of danger, however, though I could easily escape if need be through my use of blink.

Do I take the chance, and if I do, how should I attack?

>_

>>814516
Take the chance, you need the lantern to b charged as soon as possible. as for the attack, Focus your entire force on the largest group, swarm them first then send in the skelleton, raise them as they die and soon they will not be able to stand before you. just remember to keep a few alive incase you can only take the essence of those you kill in person

Attack now while there's no one around to witness your necromancy. Have all the undead attack a single group from multiple angles. Hopefully you'll be able to isolate some bandits and absorb their life force without being noticed.

The risk in attacking (beyond injury) is if you retreat or fail to kill them all, the bandits can potentially out you to your allies tomorrow.

Although if you wear your old clothes now, and your new one tomorrow, and conceal your face, you can limit that? Still, the bandits get attacked by a blinking mage tonight, if they get attacked by another tomorrow, the obvious assumption is that the same person is back to hit them again.

You might be able to blink in, death touch a sleeper or few before anyone wakes, then blink out and let your skeletal minion start coup de gracing sleepers? Not sure I want to send in the animals. Their effectiveness in combat is limited, and I want to hold back that you can make non-human undead. People are less likely to consider that, which leaves spying options open.

>>814516
an easy wayto do it would be to swarm a group with minions and then simply blink next to people and use drain light on them, raising the corpses with the now stolen souls. a few minutes of that and they should all be dead with little real risk. as for the bandits giving away your cover, it is quite unlikely that the townsfolk would listen to accusations made by the people who have been preying upon them against someone who is helping them and even if the lantern is exposed i would doubt that anyone without a strong magical education would have the slightest clue what it is

rolled 3 = 3

---

I decide to strike against the bandits now. It is dark enough to mask my presence, and though my magic may give me away, I don't plan on allowing any to escape me tonight. If one does, I shall have to deal with what comes. I direct my minions towards the campsite, then blink my way ahead of them, stopping myself a far enough distance to avoid any danger of being seen too early. A short wait later and my dead menagerie catches up, and I use my scouting bird once more to carefully select a target. One of the fires is surrounded by the most, what I could reasonably be assured is the leader and his group, of which they number some 11 souls, all told. The other two fires are surrounded by smaller groups, one of 5 and one of 4. I carefully select the most isolated target from the smallest group and blink next to them, crouched low in hopes of avoiding attention. I reach forth and place my hand against the man's face, then enact the spell.

It is like nothing I could have ever thought of. The man doesn't even wake, even as he lets out one last gasp of breath. Light travels through my hand and up my arm, and with it a feeling of warmth and vitality I did not know I was missing. My whole body glows dimly for a moment, before the light leaves me once more and drains into the Lantern, which I can feel rather than see brighten at this offering of light. All of that, and not so much as a rustle of activity from those around.

I manage two more in a similar fashion before reaching the final member of this particular fire pit, though neither one makes the Lantern feel any... fuller. As my hand touches the final man's face he jerks awake, eyes wide as he stares at me in surprise. I instinctively pull with my magic, draining the light from him, but while the others were quite gasps and sighs as their breath leaves them, this man screams in terror as he feels life drain from his body. The sound rouses the other two camps, and I react quickly, order my minions to begin their assault even as I call to the 4 corpses I've made, feeling the Lantern drain once more and the once dead men rising sluggishly from their brief rest.

Shouts are already going out among the bandits, but it is likely they will have to take at least a few moments to waken fully and gather their arms. Now is the best time as any to strike.

How shall I direct my minions?
>Undead Menagerie(Swarm)
>1 Skeleton(Fast, Fragile)
>4 Zombies(Slow, Resilient)

>Enemy Count
>16 Bandits(Unknown Strengths)

>Roll D20 with any battle plan

rolled 1 = 1

---

>>814791
have the zombies attack the campfire with 5 bandits from the front, when they are engaged flank the group with the skelleton and have it start killing them from behind.
while this is happening have the menagerie go for the larger group to distract them by attacking the eyes if possible, they wont do much damage but they are small and fast so they should be hard to kill.
you should provide ranged fire on anyone who seems to be holding their own and use blink and drain light to kill anyone who gets isolated.
once the group of 5 is dead you should raise those corpses too and then swarm the survivors with the zombies while the menagerie distracts them.

rolled 15 = 15

---

>How shall I direct my minions?
Have the swarm hit them from the opposite side as the zombies to distract the bandits and give the slower zombies a chance to close and start a slug-fest. Skele is on ambush strikes. You are to stay well out of the fight, except to occasionally toss in a magic missile where it counts, or as a distraction, or to give the skele attacks of opportunity.

Raise any who fall.

rolled 8, 18 = 26

---

>1
My feel myself freeze, mind racing to catch up with everything going on at once. The undead that surround me seem to emulate this, hesitating in their actions, instead of striking swiftly as I need them to.

>3
Luckily, perhaps, the bandits seem just as capable of acting quickly. While some have managed to both rouse and arm themselves, they seem uncertain as to what they should be doing. The rest are still pulling themselves to their feet, trying to shake sleep from limbs and minds.

>15
I overcome my own hesitation first, enforcing my will even as I blink into the treeline, hoping I'd avoided being spotted. At the same time, the undead swarm pour from the surrounding woods. There aren't a lot of them, but it does seem like I'd raised more along with the zombies. The bandits find themselves quickly trying to fend off an uncaring mass of dead flesh and skeletons, and that seems to do little to aid them in getting organized. A few of those still trying to get up are hit the hardest, and I can feel death claim them as the swarm bites at exposed necks or pecks at eyes.

The zombies shuffle forward. They are slow and cumbersome in movement, but they do reach the circle of bandits. Those bandits shrink back from them in surprise, and I can hear a few trying to call out to the deceased in confusion. This does little to save the first man they come across, whom they descend upon with what might be called enthusiasm if they were still capable of emotion. They beat the man to death with fists, clubbing him over and over till he lies motionless on the ground, blood everywhere. The display sends a wave of panic through the enemy, but they still hold.

The skeleton sticks to the outer edges, just out of sight among the trees. It focus most of its attention on the group of 5, one of which has died to the swarm as he tried to rise. A second is found vulnerable, what was once a raven pecking at his eyes, and the skeleton closes its bone hands around the man's throat before he has a hope of seeing it coming, choking the man. The sight of it sends the 3 remaining of the group into varying states of panic, with one even freezing stock still in horror as he watches the scene.

Still, even as I watch my minions begin their work, the bandits begin to rally. Among the main group a man stands out, dressed in hardier gear, bearing sword and shield. His shouts seem to give direction to the men where there is none, and they form a circle of defense around him. If I had to guess, he is the leader of this little band. Even as I raise those slain as more zombies, they hold, though they are clearly nervous and frightened.

How shall I direct my minions?
>Undead Menagerie(Swarming two men)
>1 Skeleton(Choking a man)
>7 Zombies(Ready)

>Enemy Count
13 Bandits(3 Incapacitated)

>Roll D20 with any battle plan. First post roll an additional D20

To begin with you should use drain light to finish off the incapacitated bandids if you can do so safely. You should have your minions grap whatever weapons are available starting with the skelleton.

After that the leader needs to die. At this point if you were able to finish off the incapacitated you should have 10 zombies and a skelleton while the enemy will have 10 bandits. Having equal numbers means that you can surround their circle and press inwards forcing them into a tighter formation and making it difficult to take a proper swing.

At this point it is simply a matter of attrition, somthing zombies do very well at. Have the birds go for the eyes while the land animals go for the legs. You should personally see if you can blink somewhere that lets you look down on them and use that height to fire magic missiles at the leader. With this you should be able to finish them quickly.

Remember though if it becomes apparent that you are going to lose then you should retreat and preserve as many minions as possible for later attacks

rolled 1, 16 = 17

---

Forgot to roll

rolled 9 = 9

---

Use blink to get somewhere unnoticed with one of your zombies, then give a girlish cry and order the zombie to pretend-attack you. How many bandits will come to your aid is unknown, but if even one breaks formation it will decrease unit cohesion and leave the group open to attack.

>clubbing him over and over
Maybe you should have had them draw the weapons they held in life. Blades without skill but with strength would still be more dangerous than mere fists, wouldn't they? Question for another time, perhaps.

>>815108
This seems like a good plan. A coordinated attack, and an intervention to distract the leader and prevent him from directing his troops effectively.

>>815179
This is a bad plan. Don't do that. It exposes you, and costs momentum, for the dubious advantage of trying to gain the sympathies of bandits for an unknown woman. When they know their shouldn't be anyone else near their camp, and they may have seen you before you blinked out before.

rolled 12, 11 = 23

---

>1
My directions are followed, however the undead servants at my command find it difficult to collect up proper weapons themselves. I abandon the attempt, instead having them surround the enemy to keep them contained. My own contribution is lacking, and within the flickering fire light I fail to spot any branches that might be able to hold my weight easily. Nor, through the combined bodies of the surviving bandits and my own undead, can I find a clear shot at the leader. I shall have to find some other way to contribute to this fight.

>8
The bandits rally visibly with their leader barking orders, calling upon Valor to guard them against the fell forces that stand against them. I doubt Valor can hear them, and if he does he offers them no tangible aid. Still, the words seem to offer comfort to the men, and they actually manage to fend of the zombies with relatively little difficulty. It would seem, at least for now, that they will be able to hold. For how long remains to be seen.

>16
Regardless of the effectiveness of the zombies in combat, they do provide a good obstruction. Two of their fellows are still attempting to fight off the swarms of creatures that plague them, as well as the skeleton's victim. It is a simple matter to blink from my hiding spot and brush my hand against them, pulling the light from their bodies. Only the first seems to fill the Lantern, for reasons I can't fathom, but it is during the third that I catch sight of a figure, crouched within the shadows of the leader. They are slimmer than those that surround them, and a piece of cloth covers their face from casual inspection. Still, something about them marks them as dangerous, as while the others are clearly still frightened, this figure is calm and watchful.

>18
Perhaps too watchful. Their eyes meet mine suddenly, as if they felt my gaze upon them. For a moment, I freeze, expecting a shout of alarm, or at least an attack. Instead the figure simply turns their attention elsewhere, apparently content to leave me be.

I'm not certain what to make of this, and blink back into the treeline before risking further exposure. From there, a pulse of raise dead once more, calling to the fallen bodies to rise and serve. Only one rises to my call, whilst the other remains steadfastly dead. The Lantern rattles slightly, and from it I get the feeling that I've gained as many undead servants as I can hope to control at my current strength. An excellent thing to find out in a relatively safe encounter. Already, the undead swarm of beasts is redirecting towards the circle, and should arrive swiftly, and the skeleton, more dexterous and quick than its clumsier brethren, easily scoops up a fallen sword, neatly arming it. The leader, however, remains a problem.

How shall I direct my minions?
>Undead Swarm(Moving to Defenders)
>1 Skeleton(Armed, Ready)
>8 Zombies(Ready)

>Enemy Count
>Bandit Leader
>9 Bandits
>Mystery

>Roll D20 with battle plans

>>815460
The mysterious figure may not be an enemy as they are not attacking and they were not there in the begining. Do not act against them unless they act against you, the last thing we want is an enemy that didnt have to be.

If none of the branches can hold your weight then find the one in the best position and cast hold on it, under the effects of the magic is should hold your weight and you can give ranged support.

Have half the swarm attack the leader while the other half attack the bandits on the outside of the circle attempting to break their footing

You need to have the zombies tighten the noose, have them push forwards agaibs the bandits forcing them toards the middle of the circle as hard as they can, the smaller the circle the less bandits can fight at the same time and if you get it small enough they wont even have space to swing their weapons, potentialy you might even be able to crush those in the middle under the weight of their comrades. This is why enciclement is so effective as a tactic even when severly outnumbered, the bandits made a mistake taking the formation they did

While the zombies are pushing have the skelleton move around the circle trusting its sword into the gaps between zombies and over their shoulders. This will allow it to stay out of enemy range while stabbing unprepared bandits that were focoused on the zombies.

While you may not yet be able to raise a full army you can still raise new minions as old ones fall, dont forget to keep your forces full.

Lastly, keep a very careful eye on the new figure but avoid attackin unless they attack first

Forgot to roll again

rolled 8 = 8

---

Typed it wrong

rolled 8 = 8

---

Don't engage the mystery figure as long as it stays out of the fight. We have enough trouble without drawing in forces that might not be hostile, or at the very least, that are choosing not to fight back. Keep an eye on it though, lest you be surprised.

One way to take the leader by surprise might be having a part of the swarm attack him directly from above. No time to look up, and even if he doesn't die, impeding his vision or ability to give orders might make a difference. Or distract him long enough for you or other dead to strike.

Taking out the fires might help too. The dark will impede the living more than the dead.

>Double 8's
I watch as my minions surround them, push them closer to gather, uncaring for what someone alive might consider a wound. Around the circle the skeleton stalks, bone grin being the last thing a few of them see before a blade paints the soil sanguine. With the ever fewer numbers, the zombies simply push forward, forcing the circle ever tighter. Without the room to move properly, the bandits find it more difficult to defend themselves properly.

I only contribute to this. I quickly blink to the two exposed fires and kick dirt over them, plunging the area into darkness. Only the flickering of the last fire keeps it from being total darkness, but that does little to steady those remaining. I find a suitable vantage point, then cast Hold upon it before blinking up, testing it. The spell holds the branch in place, but I can feel it draining me rather quickly, but it does afford me a good view of the battle.

My swarm darts between the defenders, seeking out their leader and harassing him without restraint. The man shouts, imploring someone by the name of Jackel to help him. The figure crouched behind him spares a glance, but seems rather uninterested in the proceedings. Instead, after a pause, the figure stands and jabs a blade through the man's chest, cutting off the man's voice and pushing him into the horde of creatures himself.

"We surrender!"

The voice is clear, loud, and much calmer than someone being assaulted by the undead has any right to be. Still, the figure, Jackal I suppose, is staring directly up at me on my perch.

The fight, it would seem, could be over if I so willed it to be so. Of course, they are bandits, and even if I accepted their surrender, there is still the matter of them knowing about me and my ability.

>What shall I do?
>1 Undead Swarm
>1 Skeleton
>8 Zombies

>Enemy Count
>Jackal
>5 Bandits

1) Order the bandits to lay down their arms, get on their knees, and put their hands over their heads, or you will get kinky and drain the life out of all of them with swords up their asses.

2) Convince the bandits to join your cause. Sure, you just murdered their team and host a giant swarm of terrifying plague-bearing murder-machines. But they know you could make them filthy rich and surrounded by zombie slaves. You need lieutenants to maintain and give unit cohesion to the zombies. You can always kill them later if they prove incompetent.

3) Take out the Jackal, it's clear that he's going to betray you.

rolled 14 = 14

---

>Still, the figure, Jackal I suppose, is staring directly up at me on my perch.
Some kind of sensory ability, I would assume. Mortal eyes, unaided, shouldn't have been able to keep track of you in the dark, especially blinking, and with a battle in the way.

>kills his own apparent ally and then offers to surrender
Huh. I don't trust that at all. This person is dangerous, methinks.

I was hoping to recruit someone with some social connections, and/or a mage, but this Jackal might be capable enough for a vampirism candidate.

>what do
Okay, a few considerations.

The first is that we don't know how tough this Jackal is. If we force a confrontation by continuing the battle, we might regret it. We really aren't that tough in the grand scheme of things.

Second is what kind of person you want to be. Do you really want to be the kind of person who cuts down even those who surrender?

Third is what story gets told. If the townspeople (and you) find this battle site tomorrow, it might be misinterpreted as the bandits fighting among themselves (assuming your surviving minions clear away any fallen swarm, or the skeleton). Survivors could contradict that.

Also, what are you supposed to do with prisoners? This is a stealth mission, they can't come back with you!

>what do
Have the dead all stop what they're doing. Freeze. Let the pause and silence draw out long enough to make the surviving bandits uneasy.

Then have all the dead raise their arms in one direction, pointing away from town.

"Leave. And never return."

>>815804
Honestly it depends on what kind of bandits they are. If they are slavers, rapists, unrepentant murderers of the innocent, if they wouldent accept the surrender of a caravan that they were attacking, then simply tell them they do not deserve mercy and kill them.

If they are simply people trying to survive and take money and goods while trying not to cause too much violence then let them go but be creepy about it.

If you have no idea what kinds of crimes they commit then its best to simply let them go, we want to be consistant with our killings and its a little early to just kill because someone annoyed you and it cowardly to kill someone because they know what you can do. Even if they do run around telling people what they saw anyone who matters is just going to think that they dont want to admit they were beaten by a bunch of villagers and are making it up

Either way you should spare jackal. mask your face and voice as best you can and start the conversation by asking who they are and why they are here. Their lack of fear suggests that they are a serious threat even now so it would be smart to find out as much as you can

The undead halt at my command, freezing in place instantly. The bandits seem incredibly uncertain as to what to do about this, but Jackal smiles, clearly content with the outcome.

"See, that's clear thinking. Now, I'm thinking we could make a killing off of your... uh... friends. Couple of towns, and we'd have gold to last us months!"

I find this one's tolerance and sense for gold amusing, if nothing else. I don't think it says much for his loyalty, however, or even if he has any worth speaking of. Not to mention the fact he stabbed his supposed leader in the back. Still, anyone who can track a blinking target in the dark must be worth something. Perhaps it would be best to at least consider the possibility.

Still, they are of Valor, they seek conflict to test themselves and earn his favor. Simply letting them leave may lead to some other town being assaulted. Though, they may at least return to Valor itself before engaging in such activity. It is difficult to be certain.

My inaction and lack of response to his words seems to put a spear of doubt into Jackal, for he continues, with a little less gusto than before.

"Right, well, I mean... maybe you don't want to go raiding? Uh... maybe I can do something else for you, in exchange for us just leaving? I know some people in some places, you know. Might be able to move your, uh... friends... around without attracting any attention? Or maybe you're looking for easy access to corpses?"

"Jackal, whatcha doin?"

"Trying to get us out alive, shut up."

It would seem this Jackal is more use than as a simple bandit. Or at least knows of others that could be. This requires further consideration...

>What shall I do?

Teaming up with bandits to go raiding overtly would probably hasten your growth in power, but it would draw attention down on your head, and I don't think putting towns to the torch for personal gain was really your gameplan.

The later option, of connections, seems more attractive. Access to the underground networks of travel and information gathering used by thieves and outlaws could be very useful. As could be what passes for off-book corpses.

One important thing to note is that while this guys worship Valor for favor, they likely don't report to him, or take orders, in the same manner as the paladins, the church, or a religious order would. So long as you don't make the whole war on the gods thing clear, it's more than possible there are groups who would be willing to work with you, or who are unaware of the blasphemy your necromancy represents.

>>816003
even ignoring the ethical issues, engaging in banditry is below you. you are a necromancer. you have power over life and death. you are going to lead a great army of the dead to tear down the heavens and you are going to return the stars themselves to the sky. you should rule a city of the dead from a tower of bone. banditry is so far below you as to be laughable.

if you are going to let them go connections are going to be far more useful than gold and troops but there is another idea. question jackal on their skills and knowlage as if you are considering the offer of teamwork. if those skills prove satasfactory for a candidate then you can make your counter offer of vamparism for jackal. somthing like this . "How would you like to be ... better. Stronger, faster, more agile, .... immortal . Swear your life to me and i can grant you all these things". i cant imagine someone like jackal saying no to that. if vampyre lords can turn humans to lesser of their kind then jackal even gets a few servants of his own, if not, well a newly turned lord is supposed to be thirsty and im sure that jackal can find some use for them besides that.

dont worry to much about using the potion being a waste, you cant get more yet but it is better to use it and get poor results than to hang onto it forever when it could have helped if used earlier.

>>816030
Honestly, I'd prefer to feel Jackal out a little more before offering them the vial. I'd like to see if our initial impressions are actually backed up (bargaining for his life, he looks less impressive, now). Especially since once we make the offer, he's more prone to lying to inflate himself, and if we don't like what we hear, retracting the offer can basically only go badly.

We're also going to be stuck working with whoever we vamp for a while- personality matters. Someone who disagrees with us too much, we have to force to do everything and watch closely instead of being able to trust they'll act in our interests when they end up in cases or situations our orders didn't sufficiently cover.

I don't think Jackal is good enough to vampirize. He's just an experienced backstabber who knows a little more than the other bandits.

Don't let any of them leave. If they report back to Valor, they'll confirm and trace the magic residue back here.

>>816048
Thats why i said to question him befor making the offer. If it seems like you are just asking so you can decide between the allies or the contacts he probebly wont lie about himself especially if you threaten him with having his soul eaten if he lies and you find out about it.

If you like what you hear make the offer, if not dont. He never has to know you were contemplating it.

As for the bandits. If you do decide to make the offer they could be made into lesser vampires if not just send them on their way. Your lantern is filled to its current capacity and no one will believe a bunch of bandits raving aboyt the walking dead. They dont work for valour, they jyst come frim his lands where the culture us warlike, as low as they are they probebly have a greater chance of getting lost in a straight hall than they do of meeting valor or even anyone close to his rank.

Of course if jackals answers show the bandits to be unworthy of mercy and dont show the skill needed to fight you off they you should just finish them off. No sense wasting mercy on those who have none for others.

Also if there is something you can do to cjange your voice you should. Somthing deep and hollow or hissing and raspy, you want it intimidating. It would be pretty anticlimactic if after all that you spoke to them with the voice of an ordinary young woman.

I would very much like to somehow disguise my voice, however I have no reliable methods to do so. Nor do I have time to try and figure some way out. I shall have to make do with what I have, specifically my normal voice. I decide to drop from the tree as well, holding the spell on the branch was becoming too draining to bother continuing with, and my minions have caged in the bandits enough to be a minimal threat at best. The bandits seemed startled at my sudden appearance, but Jackal hardly reacts at all.

"And what exactly would your offer of alliance entail? Or these contacts of yours?"

"Interested?"

"I might be."

"Eh, close enough. Look, seeing as how you have these, um... whatever they are, I could see about making some easy coin for all of us. Threaten villages all along the edges of the five territories. Stay away from anywhere authorities might care to look. Might not even have to kill anyone, just show that we can, you know? Then we find somewhere out of the way and live it up like kings. No one the wiser."

I stay silent. I have little interest in becoming a bandit of any kind, and I have my own goals to accomplish. None of which are served by staying away from major cities, and the churches contained within them. Jackal seems to take this as a cue to continue.

"But uh, if that's not really something your up for, I can just contact a few people who might be willing to help you out. Gravediggers probably wouldn't mind you taking care of any corpses they dig up, and you can find em pretty much anywhere there's a graveyard. Like to keep their noses clean of any dirty business, but they don't ask questions when there's gold to be made.

"Same could be said for some of the plaguedoctors. Nice little group, them, real charitable. Proper healer's don't like going into the slums, after all, and every city has a slum. They've got their own less than wholesome members, and a few wouldn't mind transporting corpses around, so long as they get a reason not to mind it, anyway.

"Probably other ways I could help to, you know. Maybe find you a noble to follow around like a proper do- I mean, servant."

"Ah Five, she's a servant? We're screwed, Jackal..."

"I said shut it."

It would seem... prudent... that I break my habit of holding myself as I do. Still, he raises a good points, and while his offer of alliance is detestable, the services he could provide are more tempting.

"And you, Jackal? What would you bring to this table if we were to... ally?"

"Me? I'm a bandit. Fight for gold and glory and all that. I mean, sure, I've been around a little. Trained at one of the fencing schools back home. Like to think I'm halfway decent. But uh... not much more to tell."

>What shall I do?

Jackal isn't that smart, but chances are he will betray you when he thinks he can make a profit while you're distracted. First, ask about any extremely powerful lords or ladies who think they are untouchable. Then order the bandits to keep Jackal prisoner, they can switch back to him if you die but right now you have something bigger planned. Jackal will need to prove himself if you're to trust him, a few months of patience is enough. You're stealing lighthouses. Or blowing them up. Either way, there's a lot of profit to be had.

>>816376
Seems he is useless, a pity.
Honestly the offer of bandidtry is beneath you and those contacts he offers are not of much value either, its not like you need permission to taid a graveyard after all. If you dont want to kill them just laugh at the pathetic offer and send them to valor lands with the knowlege that if they return you will eat their souls.

On the other hand if compassion is not so important to you this would seem an excelent opportunity to expiriment with your lantern. You have privacy from prying eyes, security in the form of zombies and a few ... subjects to try new things on. Who knows, you might even get a new spell out of it

>>816376
I think you should accept the offer of contacts and connections. Overt banditry isn't your goal.

Don't think Jackal is worth vamping either.

Before you leave, your minions need to clean up any supernatural evidence (like say, members of the swarm cut down) so the scene will appear as if the bandits turned on each other when tomorrow's expedition finds this place. (The missing bodies of the bandits you zombied and spared will support this). You also need to take coin and valuables from the dead left at the scene to sell the ruse.

>>816376
The offers are both useless really and that offer of finding someone to serve is just insulting, you are a necromancer, you serve no one any more.

I say that you should kill jackal to make a point but let the rest go. Without a leader they are little threat to anyone and they definetly wont come back here after that display.

I affect an air of disdain about the whole affair, which to be fair isn't very difficult. All of his offers seem less than ideal. I could easily make contact with all involved if I wished it so, and could ingratiate myself to a noble more effectively than he ever could. The man known as Jackal, however, is far too dangerous and enterprising to simply allow to leave. With any sort of brains, he'd report me to the anyone for the promise of reward. That is unacceptable, particularly with my current state of power. With a flick of my will, the zombies descend upon the bandits who, having grown lax, put up no significant resistance. Suitably subdued, I step closer, eyeing them all with something akin to disgust.

"It would seem I have little use for you all, in the end. However... I am not unmerciful. You are to leave these lands, and never bother them again, or you shall face... dire consequences. Am I understood?"

All nod, the fear clear in the eyes. Another flick of my will and all are released. All except for Jackal. The fear quickly grows into unreserved terror, but his one time allies waste no effort disappearing into the surrounding woods, headed back towards Valor territory. All that leaves is the final fate of the man.

"P-please! I won't say a word. I-I swear! I'll do whatever you want!"

"Unfortuantely, your ambition makes you... untrustworthy. Know I take no pleasure in this. I only do what I must."

I reach forward and drain the man of his light, feeling no change in the Lantern at all. It would seem the artifact is in fact full. A curious thing, but good to know that it does have a limit on how much it can hold. I spend the next few minutes directing my minion in the task of removing any evidence of my being here, supernatural or otherwise. I take the time to personally loot what I can from the bodies, both dead and undead, coming away with a fair amount of coin. By my estimation, a peasant could live off of this amount for a month. That task done, and feeling weariness swiftly approaching, I am left with what to do about my creations. Not to mention what my plan is for dealing with tomorrow.

>What shall I do?

>>816869
Before anything else you should expiriment a bit with your abilities.
First have your minions kill a zombie and see if you can raise them. Next free up a spot and see what happens if you cocentrate all of your focus on raising a single body instead of a group, lastly expiriment a bit with operating swarm members individually.

Once you are done expirimenting have your minions go deeper into the woods and play dead, order them not to respond to anything. You can fetch them when you are leaving.

After that head back to town and get some rest, you earned it. Tomorrow you should go ahead with the bandit hunting mission, its to late to back out without being suspicious but the villagers should believe it was infighting. Lastly you should cast sight on a bird an have it follow the fleeing bandits for a while to ensure that they really are gone.

Test how long you can hold them up, but keep an eye on your upkeep. Once your lantern is drained to 80% from overuse of zombies, throw them into a kamikaze for food or some other productive self-destruct.

>I am left with what to do about my creations.
Stowing them somewhere with an order to play dead / do nothing until ordered should work.

>Not to mention what my plan is for dealing with tomorrow.
I think we go along with the group, school your emotions, and act wary and cautious, as a not-too-strong mage involved in a raid should be. Let the trackers and fighters reach their own conclusions when they find bandit camp with only dead men and empty pockets- let them think of it on their own, don't tell them the story you want them to believe.

Make sure your minions inflict fatal wounds on Jackal, or any like him, who you killed with your touch but did not raise. Dead men with no marks may raise questions.

Passive observation seems to yield that my undead minion don't seem to be placing any drain upon the Lantern, or at least none that I can feel. Other experiments soon follow, with mixed results. I can't seem to raise a zombie again once it has been killed, nor can I somehow focus the entirety of casting of raise dead into a single target. The spell itself seems to just give off a short range pulse, raising anything nearby up to my limit, which seems to still be ten. Or perhaps, ten units of things, though how it decides a unit is unclear, as my creature swarm is fairly large. I can easily control individual members as well, though I do find it easier to simply command all to move as a single horde.

With my short experimentation done, it is time to prepare for my return to town. I have the skeleton go around stabbing any body that is not already wounded in some way, whilst the zombies and most of the swarm is sent deeper into the woods, with the simple instruction to simply play dead until told otherwise. The skeleton follows them soon afterward. One of the swarm, a bird still capable of flight, is tasked with keeping an eye on the fleeing bandits, sight spell placed upon it so I can check on their progress, to ensure they leave as instructed. From there, it is a simple matter to return to town, blinking through the trees and open fields. I make it back to my room within ten minutes, pleased with the nights work, even as weariness creeps in. I am all too happy to greet my bed, temporary though it may be, once more.

---

The morning has proven itself to be as interesting as one might expect. I wake well rested, and descend to the main floor to be greeted with breakfast and the tense atmosphere of the town militia. Eating is a quiet affair, despite Maybell's attempts to lighten the mood. Soon, a small party of us is marching out into the woods, seeking the bandit's campsite. The trek moves quickly, the locals are familiar with the terrain, whilst I can make up for any lack of stamina with my magic, and we soon stumble across the camp. The sight of it is met with bewilderment and confusion by most, though the men are quick to search for signs of trouble. In the end, however, they find no signs of anything unusual, and only one conclusion remains plausible to them. Only Clark seems unconvinced, his eyes flickering to me for a brief moment before he directs the group back to town. It isn't till our return to the town, and Clark gives his report to the men and women of the town, that the subject is met with finality.

"Scum turned on each other. The rest seem to have fled. We ain't gonna have any trouble from them any longer."

A cheer erupts from the crowd, and though it is barely passed early morning, the townsfolk seem content to begin celebrating their good fortune, praising the Five and Wisdom in particular. I excuse myself from the general festivities, more interested in retiring somewhere quiet, but it would seem at least a few have other ideas. Clark finds me quickly, taking up a position close enough to be heard without making it seem like he truly is talking to me.

"Them bandits didn't seem the kind to turn on each other for a bit of coin. Seems a bit odd to me."

"I'm sure such individuals can't possibly be expected to act honorably."

"Might be that's true. Might also be a mage wandering bout at night took it upon herself to chase em off."

I turn to regard the man, but he keeps his gaze firmly on the celebrating townsfolk. It seems I will get no aid in deciding how I am to respond from him.

>What shall I do?

>Clark finds me quickly, taking up a position close enough to be heard without making it seem like he truly is talking to me.
Well at least he has the sense to confront you privately about his suspicions, instead of confronting you in front of the group. It might be possible to bring him into your confidence.

I'm... tempted to say yes without actually saying yes. Confirm his suspicions without copping to it.

>Might also be a mage wandering bout at night took it upon herself to chase em off.
"Perhaps one did. Although if she's not here taking credit for her deeds, perhaps she has reason not to want the attention.

"I, of course, would lack the power to accomplish such a feat by my lonesome."

It's a figurative nod and a wink, letting him know he's right and we'd prefer it not spread around. And if someone comes hunting this way for you later, asking questions, he's liable to remember what you did, and that you had some reason to lie low. Which might help you.

>>817354
This seems the appropriate response

"Perhaps one did, though I expect if she's not here taking credit for her actions, she has her reasons for not wanting attention.

"I, of course, lack the power for such a feat."

Clark remains silent for a few minutes, willing to simply watch the proceedings. After a few moments, however, he straightens, taking a few steps away before turning back to me.

"Well, I wouldn't rightly know. But if you see this mystery mage of ours, let her know she's got our gratitude."

Then he is gone, striding into the festivities and soon enough happily participating, drinking troubles and time away. I spend my own time on the outskirts, content to keep to myself and allow the village its fun. Within the hour, however, Maybell slips from the crowd, face tinged red from drink and cheer.

"There ya are. Seems we didn't need ya after all, eh? I ain't keen to see ya leave, but there's a cart headed out to Arcadia in a few minutes. Told em you might be wantin to tag along. Course, yer always welcome to stay..."

Once more, the offer is made, and once more it shall be refused. Still, there is the matter of when I should leave. I could go with this cart, and no doubt Arcadia will have far more to offer in goods and services. There is the matter of my undead servants, however. Doubtless they will be incapable of traveling the roads, for fear of discovery, and they certainly won't be able to enter Arcadia.

>What shall I do?

>>818154
I think, at the end of the day, any city is going to have its dead, and they won't all be neatly stored away in public cemeteries.

I think we can afford to leave the first batch where they are at the expense of moving forward.

Give them explicit instructions to protect the town. If there is a regime change, stand down and await further instructions.

>>818389
That seems like it would be counterproductive both to our efforts to avoid drawing attention, and to do right by this town. Mindless undead aren't good at context, leaving them to guard civilians indefinitely will go wrong eventually.

"I'll be leaving with the cart, I'm afraid."

"Shame, that. Best of luck to ya, anyway."

Maybell favors me with a smile before directing me to the town's main gate. I make my way there with the cheers of the townsfolk echoing around me, and I can't help the small smile that meets my lips. Soon enough, I am on the road, seated within the cart, watching the slowly passing countryside. My thoughts stray lightly to the undead I am leaving behind, instructed to simply act dead and remain in place. This will be an excellent test to see if distance effects my control of them, not to mention how time will drain the Lantern. All the remains is a hopefully quiet journey.

Pain sears my every thought and feeling, rips through my body, renders action impossible. Yet still, with the tortures of these cruel gods, I remain steadfast. I will not allow myself to break. Not here and not now.

I can feel the presence of one of them nearby. Whenever they enter my prison I can feel them. It was always to bring pain, or ask me questions I refused to answer. This one feel warmer, soothing in its strength. A cool hand cups my cheek, and the pain fades ever so slightly.

"To think, they would do this to you."

I knew this voice. Brief though it may have been, I've met her. Compassion. Always the most benevolent of the gods. In some ways, the most cruel, for she would guard humanity from all suffering, and deny us the power to rise above on our own power.

"Tis a small mercy you've been spared Justice or Resolve, if only for a short time. I only hope I can fix this."

And of course, her driving need to heal. She is fixing me, only so that I may be broken once more, even if that is not her intention. Still, I feel the pain fade further, bruises and cuts mending, broken bones becoming whole once more.

"You are so dead set against us, against giving them the answers they seek. I could take you from this place, shield you from them, yet you remain. Why?"

>Answer

"Because you refuse to see what you are.

Lessons must be relearned, re-applied, remembered and redeemed.

You think you are order incarnate. Unchanging. Immortal. You think your greatest weakness is anarchy.

You are simply wrong.

The cities you hold are constantly changing, even if you force their outward sprawl to look the same. Tyrants and heroes are replaced by further tyrants and heroes, each with their own agenda and impact on the world you've constrained.

And your greatest weakness is yourself. You've divided yourselves into purposes yet squabble and doubt one another. If you were divine absolution, you'd at least strive towards the same purpose. You point your troops at shadows in the dark and march them into each other to tear themselves apart.

So as long as you enact this comedy of civilization, I will PLAY. MY. PART."

>Why?
You know why. I swore an oath to the five in that lighthouse, and I meant what I said.

(You still cling to that purpose. That is all that you have, and it is enough).

"I swore my oaths, to you and to them, within that Lighthouse. I meant every word."

"Every word?"

"Yes."

"My oath is to provide for all. Yet your own to me seeks only to aid a single soul."

The fire and resolve within burns brighter at the mention of Her. She is everything, my reason to stand firm in my resolve. I will not surrender, not even to a god.

"She is anathema, now. Lost to us eternally, by your actions."

A growl of rage escapes me, and I feel the goddess retreat a little. She would speak falsehoods, all to weaken me. But I will not succumb, not to such transparent webs. My work was not for nothing. She dances among the heavens now, free of the trials of this hell that is life.

"Denying it will not make it false. Your own selfishness has damned her, and needlessly damned you as well. If you would but recognize that, I could redeem you, purge your soul of the shadows that hold it..."

I will not abide these slanders!

>Deny these Lies!

Just insult her with every taunt you've ever heard from your criminal targets.

"Shut your drooling CUNT, you INSUFFERABLE, MINDLESS, HORSE-@#$%ING, CUM-GUZZLING, URINE-SPATTERED FLIGHT ATTENDANT!!!"

Lost? She´s free of you and your pathetic squabbles between your kin.

They are fools to lie to you. Not when your oath is in effect, not when they are bound to you as you are bound to them.

>>821240
Lost to you? I brought her to the light. How dark must your own existence be, if you cannot see her shining? How deep a shadow your lighthouses must cast.

>>821240
You provide to all? To keep them weak and docile. Poisoned honey may be sweet but it is poisoned all the same.