Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

After making a quick stop to the former Kobold cave and dropping off her newly-acquired thralls, Lieze relieved young Adelaine of her habit before the stench of her rotting flesh could make the garment permanently unusable. If she could come up with a worthwhile reason, it was possible that one of Tonberg’s many churches would be willing to take her in as a nun of the faith. It was certainly a very load-bearing if, but one worth considering. Masquerading as an innocent woman of the cloth would make her far less suspicious--and potentially expose opportunities to dismantle the Church from within.

Only--how did the Church’s convent work, precisely? Lieze considered the possibilities. Was it decided at birth? By choice? How did the nuns carry themselves? What sort of responsibilities did they have? The thought only occurred to her after she had thrown aside her robe in favour of the habit that she probably wasn’t the best fit for a nun. But then again, up until a few days ago, she hadn’t been the best fit for a necromancer, either.

The confines of her newly-claimed cave were beginning to shrink as corpses meandered through the twisting passages--to say nothing of the smell that had begun to taint the place. The entranceway had proven the greatest obstacle of all. With some severe concentration, Lieze could grant her thralls enough autonomy to slide down the rope, and with twice as much, compel them to slowly climb their way back up. It wasn’t the kind of rapid mobilisation she could rely on in an emergency. A canny adventurer could simply cut the rope and foil her plans immediately.

It was no good. Baccharum’s contacts would help her fix the problem, with any luck, but she would need more coin before making any expensive purchases. An alchemy table, for one--and possibly a team of Dwarves to carve her an entranceway that didn’t leave her out of breath on the way out. No, she desired somewhere less conspicuous to carry out her plans. For a brief moment, she found herself homesick for the putrid bogs of the Deadlands.

The habit did a good job of hiding her short white hair. The half-lidded eyes of the guardsmen stationed at Tonberg’s southern gate didn’t recognise her face. None of them even bothered to ask for any identification to prove that she was a nun.

“Where should I begin?” She wondered to herself, “I wonder if any of the churches will simply welcome me if I wander through the entrance…”

Thankfully, she was spoiled for choice on the matter. From shrines to chapels to cathedrals, Tonberg was parasitized by the Gildwyrm’s holy sanctums. Lieze had until tomorrow before her mana burnout would subside, so passing the time by completing quests for her scale seemed like a natural course of action. It didn’t take her long to locate one of the gargantuan spires piercing the city’s skyline, where a parade of vagrants were gathering near the entrance to beg for food.

A bearded gentleman clad in the black-golden robes of the Church raised his head as he noticed Lieze approaching, “Ah… a new face?”

“Good morning.” She greeted, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“If you would be so kind. These poor souls have arrived looking for a meal, and I could do with an extra pair of hands to distribute the bread we’ve been allowed from the city. The loaves are in that wagon, just over there.” He requested, pointing towards a lone carriage by the entrance.

“Of course. I’d be happy to.” Lieze smiled.

The ‘bread’ in question didn’t seem particularly worthy of the name. Whether it was for the purpose of preservation or not, the loaves were brick-hard. Most of them were completely tainted by mold or chewed to pieces by vermin, leaving very little that could actually be handed over to the homeless. Lieze guessed that it was simply a collection of loaves either too low-quality to sell or too dangerous to eat. By offering its churches the bare minimum, the royalists could claim that they were donating to the faith while barely doing any real work at all. As a result, most of those at the back of the line (or those who didn’t have the confidence to shove past their competition) didn’t receive anything to eat at all, leaving with dissatisfied frowns and rumbling stomachs.

“Hah…” The old priest sighed, “It’s a shame so much of this bread has to go to waste.”

“Did you say that the city donated these loaves?” Lieze asked.

“Yes. We receive a wagon like this every week or so.” He answered, “It wasn’t enough before the necromancers attacked, and it certainly isn’t enough now.”

“His Majesty doesn’t provide enough for the people?”

“Ever since the mills of Dolore were destroyed, it’s a rare sight to see bread on anyone’s plate. What little farmland remains to the south is burdened with providing for the entire city. King Ricta is a fair man, but leadership alone does not fill bellies. I imagine porridge will remain the nation’s favourite for quite some time.”

The Order hadn’t single-mindedly marched towards the Sovereign Cities. Lieze recalled the acrid scent of smoke in the air as fields of grain were set alight to demoralise and cripple Ricta’s regime from within. If they had taken their time putting the outlying fields to the flame, Tonberg wouldn’t have been able to survive the aftermath of the siege.

“But, enough about that for now.” He continued, “Thank you for your help. I’ve been finding myself indebted to acolytes like yourself recently.”

“We all need to chip in to ensure the city’s safety.”

“It pleases me greatly to see the hearts of the people inspired by the appearance of our lord.” The priest stared towards the overcast sky, “Surely, it must be a sign that we are destined to persevere.”

“Is there anything else you need help with?”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve been searching for someone to station the confessional.” He answered, “People have a lot on their minds nowadays. It’s our duty to hear them out and deliver them from their sins.”

“I would be honoured.” Lieze volunteered, “But… I must admit that I’ve only recently become a woman of the cloth… I’m still deep in my studies of the Church’s doctrine.”

“It is not experience which matters. If one’s faith is true, then they will always be worthy of a place under the Gildwyrm. There are only a handful of rules to the confessional, I assure you. For most sinners, a quiet listener is all they desire.”

“You honour me with the opportunity.” She expressed.

When the priest invited her into the modestly-sized church, she had expected to see decadent halls draped in finery and golden decorations, but the truth was far more depressing. Wooden floorboards creaked underfoot as they wandered into the dreary nave. Particles of dust danced into Lieze’s eyes. The pews were half-rotted or brand new, never in-between, and the pulpit seemed to be sinking into the ground. The confessional--if it could be called something like that, may or may not have formerly been an outhouse or something similar.

“You must forgive the state of this place.” The priest apologised, “I’ve petitioned the city several times for repairs, but only so much has been done…”

“Are you the only priest here?” Lieze asked.

“Oh, no. Another nun by the name of Alma has been helping out for many years.” He answered, “She isn’t here at the moment. Before the Order’s attacks, she had planned to study at a monastery to the south, but…”

“Is there anything specific you’d like me to do at the confessional?”

“Ah, of course. I think we still have the leaflet sitting around somewhere…”

Marching up to the pulpit, he meddled with a stack of yellowed papers on a shelf within the platform. With a somewhat dark expression, he returned and handed a small page to Lieze.

“As you surely know, a confessional is a sanctum of utmost privacy…” He began, “However, there are certain… affronts which, by order of the city, must be reported to the authorities. This slip will inform you of every crime that you must report to a guard if heard during a confession.”

“Crimes…?” Lieze muttered, “But, doesn’t this go against the principles of a confessional?”

“If only it was so simple as a matter of principle…” He muttered, “There is a divide between ‘sin’ and ‘crime’. The city tolerates the former, but not the latter.”

“Do the citizens know about this?”

“No.” He admitted, “Why would they confess their sins if they knew their privacy would not be respected?”

“...I understand.”

“The Church does not condone criminality. Think of your service as rendering the Gildwyrm’s judgement against the guilty.” He encouraged, “You may start and finish at any time. I cannot pay you, but I thank you for providing this service to my humble church.”

Even as a necromancer, Lieze wasn’t certain how to feel about a worshipper’s privacy being treated like some form of convenient tool for collecting confessions. Just what sort of things was she about to hear?

Quest "A Change of Faith" Complete!

Reward - 300xp

New Quest Received!

"Small Beginnings" - Induct one member into your cult.

Reward - 400xp

“...Cult?”

Lieze watched the letters flicker past on the illusory box projecting from her scale. Whatever could it mean by that? Certainly, the Order was a ‘cult’ in the broadest definition of the term, but she had no authority to welcome new members. Or, was that simply a symptom of her lifelong incompetence? As the daughter of Ignas Sokalar, didn’t she have a hereditary right to some sort of leadership position? After all--she was a member of the esteemed Deathguards.

“How am I going to recruit someone?” She wondered, “Then again… in a city as large as this, wouldn’t there be at least one person with an interest in necromancy? If they could be pushed over the edge…”

She expelled the thought from her mind. At that moment, she had a job to do. Staffing the confessional for a few hours would place her into the Church’s good books, and from there, she could seek other opportunities to raise her standing with the priesthood.

The wooden box was almost a lethal weapon with how many rogue splinters it had. At the very least, it was set up in such a way that her identity was concealed. While she waited for someone to appear, Lieze scanned the paper she’d been handed.

By order of His Majesty, the most gracious King Ricta, all places of worship within the Sovereign Cities must report any and all crimes listed within this document regardless of circumstance or guilt.

Major Crimes (REPORT ANY OF THE FOLLOWING TO A GUARD OR CONSTABLE IMMEDIATELY)

Treason / Murder (attempted or otherwise) / Unlawful Profiteering / Possession of or supplying of illegal substances / Grand larceny / Poisoning water sources / Trespassing onto castle grounds / Fraud / Forbidden sorcery (necromancy, etc.)

Minor Crimes (Report any of the following to a guard or constable at your earliest convenience)

Petty theft / Vandalism / Assault / Vigilantism / Trespassing / Impersonation of a figure of authority / Unsubstantiated rumour-spreading / Unlawful use of sorcery.

Was this Ricta’s attempt at cracking down on the rising crime within his city, or a desperate attempt to control his remaining subjects? In either case, Lieze wouldn’t be following any such guidelines--the more crime pervading Tonberg, the simpler it would be for her true nature to remain hidden.

Unsurprisingly, many of those who arrived to have their confessions heard weren’t the most law-abiding of citizens. From thieves to blasphemers to soon-to-be murderers, the Gildwyrm’s appearance in the flesh had evidently stricken the hearts of the people with a desire to have their sins forgiven. Seeing so many people submitting to the Church’s dogma made Lieze sick to her core, but she didn’t allow her innocent mask to slip, waiting on every visitor’s hand-and-foot to validate their need for penitence.

By the time a few hours had passed, she could tolerate the uncomfortable box no longer. Throwing the door open, she was surprised to see another nun wandering down the church aisle, who jumped at her sudden appearance.

“Oh…” She placed her hands together meekly, “You gave me quite the surprise…”

“Sorry about that.” Lieze apologised, “...You wouldn’t happen to be Alma, would you?”

“That’s correct.” She smiled, “I didn’t know we’d be receiving help today.”

“I… just thought it would be a welcome change, considering how things have been recently.”

“Well--thank you for volunteering. There aren’t many acolytes who are willing to staff the confessionals.”

“I’m not sure I can handle having to report some people to the guards…” Lieze muttered, “Don’t some of these laws seem a little draconian to you?”

“I can certainly understand why we would be ordered to turn murderers in…” Alma began, “But, petty theft, trespassing… many of our worshippers are simply trying to make ends meet. If the city cannot provide opportunities for them to work, then why do they deserve to be arrested for trying to survive?”

“I noticed that trespassing into the castle is counted as a ‘major’ crime. Do you know why that is?”

“Ah… are you not from Tonberg?” Alma placed a hand to her chin, “His Majesty makes no effort to conceal the legend of the royal castle, unlike his father.”

“The legend?”

“Well, it’s only a rumour, but…” She began, “-Some say that only a handful of its rooms are actually put to use. The rest of the castle is strictly off-limits to anyone but Ricta himself. Whether it’s true or not, there are many strange happenings surrounding that place, and of the Ricta family itself…”

Lieze’s gaze strayed towards Alma’s information as she spoke.

Alma Blanc

Level 3 Necromancer

HP: 51 / 51 MP: 70 / 70

“And--well, it’s not polite to accuse him of anything, but it’s said that the king’s father actually sired two-” Alma paused, noticing that Lieze appeared to be bothered by something, “...Is everything okay?”

“Y-Yes.” She answered quickly, “I’m sorry. I was miles away.”

“No, I should apologise for taking up your time. I haven’t even asked for your name yet.”

“It’s… Lieze.” For a moment, she hesitated to use her real name, “I’ve only recently become a sister of the cloth, so this is all still very new to me.”

“I see. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Lieze.” The taller girl gave a polite bow, “If there’s anything at all you need, please don’t hesitate to drop by again.”

A necromancer.

Lieze couldn’t believe her eyes. Was the scale playing tricks on her? Alma seemed like the perfect picture of a God-fearing nun. Could it really be possible that she was someone who could be persuaded to her cause? She had only infiltrated the Church to placate the demands of the scale and place her in the city’s good books, but she ended up discovering far more than she bargained for.

“Thank you.” Lieze replied, “I’m… sure I will.”