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Love Glory
33d4be
Having gained some height, I can see that the city is larger than I first thought. Looking further across the valley, which is shallow on the other side, the terrain is quite distinctive. Mountains to the west and north, a city on the sea, two rivers providing irrigation for a stretch of farmland, fading into grassland and I believe a hint of desert on the horizon to the east. I can also see that the necromancer who raised me, unless they had friends, is one of those who drains life energy from the land for extra power. The blighted ground left by the mass of their army lets me see a clear trail northward, even under starlight, which allows me to guess that the place I died was north of here as well.
This, then, is probably the city called The Wedge. Called, as I’m sure it had a proper name its rulers preferred, but that’s what it was referred to. Ruled by… well, it was a merchant princess last I knew, but judging by how the gate villages have grown together into a sprawl and a castle-palace has appeared on the hillsides near where I started, it’s been at least a hundred years since I last flew over and probably more. Quite an unpopular little city-state, from what I remember, too distant from any other nation to be conquered, too few nearby resources to expand, but immensely profitable by sheer geographical convenience. There should be dwarven kingdoms to the west, a variety of plantations off the coast to the east, mines in the desert and eager customers to the north and across the sea. A very unscrupulous and jealous nobility overseeing trade, permitting all sorts of terrible businesses that would be forbidden elsewhere, and a melting pot of desperate unfortunate souls scrabbling for freedom from their debts. I can easily imagine them making a dedicated enemy.
Can you tell that I’m very well-traveled, for a dragon? I’m sure I’ll be familiar with any language we’re likely to encounter, as well.
I can sense life, so I could try finding and rescuing survivors in the city, though I’m not sure how helpful that would be to me or them. This is not a city of giants, or even of dwarves, who love their vast tunnels and vaults. Much of it will be cramped, and the buildings flimsy, even moreso now than usually. The inner city has somewhat more space, but is full of canals. Simply breathing deathfrost on burning buildings may catch people in a more certain and unclean death. The main threat besides fire is the newly purposeless undead, but they can fit inside the buildings of lesser races and I cannot. It would take my time and do little for me, besides, and I have no obligations here that I know of.
Looking for survivors outside the city walls might get me someone to talk to, to give information on time and recent events. As this appears to have been a rather successful siege, however, there are unlikely to be many outside the walls who need rescuing at this point, and without a rescue to compensate for my appearance they may not be cooperative. The presence of an individual life is trickier to pinpoint in natural areas, as well.
The greatest potential gain is probably in finding the necromancer’s possessions, which should gain me spellcasting equipment and materials and, I should hope, some books, or scrolls, or whatever else can tell me more about necromancy and the state of undeath. They’d have surely had something. The downside of this option is that, since necromancers who lead armies of undead generally stay camped behind their minions, chances are high that visiting that camp will mean encountering whatever ragtag band of desperate defenders took my reanimator down. What condition they’ll be in and what their attitude to me would be is unpredictable, but there is a very strong possibility of a serious threat to me. If I leave them to their devices, however, they’ll surely make off with the necromancer’s things themselves, and maybe destroy them.
On the other claw, if this city is the kind of cut-throat trading destination I remember it being, then there may actually be magical tools and resources for dark magic somewhere within, as this is one of the few places such things are not restricted. So I could search for the tools and information I need in the city. Though that seems a very chancy option, it does potentially combine all the benefits of the others thus far, since I could destroy some undead and find someone to rescue along the way.
Finally, now that I have some idea of where I am, I can simply go home, and see if my kobolds are still there, to get their help if they are, or begin tracing them or my other descendants if they’re not. I should point out that my home is not the same place that I died: that was a temporary lair of mine, one of many I’ve had. What I considered my proper home is further away, and it will take time to get there. I can’t get tired like I did when I was alive, but I will have to contend with the sun. I’m too powerful for sunlight to destroy me, but it will still make me weaker, slower and more easily confused. So, really, the same as being tired. Except that I will also be in pain.
The state of restless death is a thing quite like being constantly tired and in pain already, and I believe such is the case for all unwilling undead, but I’ve gotten the impression that exposure to the sun is much more acute.
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