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Chapter 71 - Necromancy, part 1
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Let me tell you a little about the nature of what you vaguely call "magic."
I have never liked that word for it because it describes too poorly the reciprocal action of energy that only a few are capable of generating with enough power and control to affect the material plane.
Those of us who have been blessed with the ability to control the ebb and flow of Mana do not see the world as mere mortals do. Our minds exist at the same time in the everyday material world and the dazzling magical world that only users of this power can know.
This is so in the case of all sorcerers, Wizards, Witches and any user of arcane powers, including those who practice the science of death.
The malevolent negative energy that necromancy uses is by far the most dangerous form of magic, but some will say the most powerful as well. But don't get me wrong, negative energy involves both physical and mental sacrifice as it c
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Viktor spread his hands over his body, palms down, trembling. It wasn't Herwin Reiss, he told himself, it wasn't anymore.As the vital spark disappeared from him, the corpse was nothing more than an empty vessel, an empty man. Inside his mind he saw the words he had to speak form into letters of fire, and he began to speak the words required for the spell. Erich's wavering voice joined hers and his accomplice began to recite the words whose pronunciation Viktor had spent long hours teaching her.The two students did not know what the words meant, but the power of the words could not be denied. The darkness of the warehouse took on a body. The air they breathed thickened, like the suffocating river mists that drowned the streets of the half-dead city, and it entered their lungs like mud.The alchemical stench of the preserved body was increased by the intense odor of plant decay, the ferrous aroma of spilled blood, and th
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What would his father have thought of him?Had he been alive, he would have disinherited his prodigal son from him and cursed his immortal soul. Right now he must be turning in the grave.And what would his beloved sister think of him?The thought of her face haunted by her, horrified at her, was almost enough to make him burst into tears right there.But the reality was that the blasphemous invocation had failed and he had been saved.For all the time that he had wondered if he could control his powers, he had never once questioned whether he should.How could he have been so deluded as to believe that the powers that had awakened within him could be a gift, when they had lain dormant for so long?They were a curse: a filthy stain on his immortal soul that would require years of penance and restraint to erase. But if that was what it too
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Some even put forward the ridiculous and stupid idea that it had been spread by rat fleas. Those people should be locked up in a madhouse.Certain preachers of catastrophes declared that it was a condemnation that had fallen on the city.The general consensus was that smallpox was dying out as the end of the year approached, as the disease that had spread in the fetid heat of summer was unable to survive the cold of the coming winter.Of course, others, of a more religious slant, said that the wrongdoers had been punished and that the gods showed their mercy. There was even talk that some of the city's inhabitants would return before the end of the year.By the time he finished his drink, Viktor decided that he had heard enough already and returned to his house not daring to stay there any longer.Viktor returned home to him, but he was changed beyond recognition.
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Under a sky the color of wet slate, Viktor paused under the shade of a tree and looked across the fallow fields, toward his hometown. After a frustrating five days of travel due to low carriage traffic, he had returned home once more.Wayward thunderstorms chased swift tides of clouds across the sky, like wolves hunting sheep.Chipped still looked the same as ever. The forests that gave the austere town its name were dotted with gold and reddish bronze, and the blackened branches stood out against the sky.Frayed-winged birds circled over the cliff to which they had given their name, their squawks barely audible in the breeze.As he moved out of the way again to cross the bare fields, Viktor heard a painful sound that chilled the blood in his veins.The lonely tolling of the chapel bell reached him across the desolate landscape. It could only mean one thing, because the bell rang when: someone had died and passed from the mortal world to the twilig
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I have done all kinds of evil in my unnaturally long life as a necromancer, but the irony is that it was the wrong actions of others that made me a necromancer.When Inquisitor Felix Crissinger accused me, in our first meeting, of being that hideous specter, the Tomb Raider, I was, thus far, innocent of any crime. If that accursed Inquisitor had subjected me to the ordeal of the rack and inevitably found me unjustly guilty, he would have been burned on the pyre of heretics and killed innocent in place of that wretched Sederit Hischer.But the real outrageous irony is that if the irrational inquisitor had ended my life, he would not have been able to turn me into the very thing that the temples and the inquisition made so many puritanical efforts to eradicate. He would not have turned me into the very thing that Felix had accused me of.So I ask you, who prompted me to commit so many unspeakable acts of depraved evil?
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Erich led Viktor off the street and led him for a hundred yards, then into the maze of back streets around the carpenters and woodworkers guild. As they moved quickly, they were talking."Erich, where are we going?""I can't ... I can tell you.""Why not? Are we going to the docks? "Erich took a moment to reply.“Y… yes. T… that's it. ""But I thought you couldn't tell me."Logic seemed to have abandoned Erich along with good sense.“I… I can't! Because you ho… you would be horrified. "Viktor's blood ran cold. What could it be that Erich was so desperate to show him and yet he was unable to mention?Suddenly, all of Viktor's suppressed doubts and worries returned in a moment of panic that made his heart race. Erich was walking away, se
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"Professor Theodria. Impossible"Hearing Viktor's words, Professor Theodria put on a creepy smile full of evil"for the moments…. That would be my current name, although it is only one of the many names I have used ”Professor Theodria removed the ring and immediately returned to its repulsive and decomposing appearance.If Professor Theoadria was the Tomb Raider, who was Dr. Shandri Drake Tepes?At that moment, Viktor realized that it was not Theoadria who was holding the lantern as if he wanted to inspect the body of his prisoner. The necromancer's servant stood beside him, silent, his ghastly face white as marble polished in the flickering glow of light in one hand."W ... what do you want from me?" Viktor stammered, overwhelmed by the horror of the situation he now found himself in. He had to know why they had brought him there. He had to know why he was going to
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